Throwing Snowballs at Xanadu

by Bartholomew Thockmorton

  She kept their speed subsonic, avoiding alarm to the creatures below, maintaining altitude so as not to disturb any animals more skittish than the ones they had seen so far. The craft’s propulsion shield maintained a warm cocoon about Betty, and she quickly grew bored with the lack of more interesting things to see or do—at least until she came upon a valley different from the others.

  Betty was following foothills to a chain of tree-covered mountains southeast of the Flipper-Doodle. She remained on the same continent, but the lander lay over four hundred kilometers behind. Cresting the mountains, she slowed, studying the terrain—something unusual, something different caught her eye, something not normally found in nature. Suddenly, she recognized the pattern barely discernable between the young trees. She also noted the woods throughout the area appeared roughly the same age—nowhere could she find sign of old growth, no patches of older trees.

  She tried landing in a seemingly open clearing, but had to carefully choose ground between rotting tree trunks littering the landscape. Although planning to dismount and look over the area, she instead took skyward, climbing a good two kilometers. She circled, confirming what she first only suspected. At this altitude, the pattern covering the valley below became clear—a layer of old trunks, lying in the same configuration, lined up facing away from a common center. The event happened long enough ago for a new generation of growth to cover the valley.

  “Charlie, are you recording this?”

  “Indeed I am, mistress.”

  “Do you know what this means?”

  “I will leave the conclusions to you.”

  “We need to do more research, but if I’m right, I may have found an explanation as to why the herbivores are so small.”

  Chapter Three

  Sam waited while the spider-bots finished assembling the gantry at the new location. The first two digs were completed, but Sam decided he needed more samples to confirm his findings.

  Some of the grazers napped under nearby trees while others nibbled at the edge of the shade; they were quite nonplused by Sam’s presence. Out of curiosity, he approached within a dozen meters of the herd before their heads came up. He took a knee, and surprisingly, several animals moved closer while still feeding. He held his breath in anticipation; to the best of his knowledge, small animals were usually cautious of larger creatures that might just eat them. But to his amazement, one of the animals approached to within a few feet, stretching its neck to better smell him. It obviously decided Sam was no threat, as it went back to eating without moving away.

  “Sam…the drill is ready to start,” came Charlie’s deep, masculine voice from the nearest bot. “Same depth as the others?”

  “That’s fine…sixty meters should verify our suspicions. The iridium and non-terrestrial carbon deposits point to an strike every hundred years or so…perhaps more frequently. I wonder what Betts will make of this.”

  “Would you like me to ask her?”

  “No, let’s keep this to ourselves for now. She’s really excited about this planet…I don’t want to black-cloud her until we’re sure.”

  ***

  “Charlie, why didn’t you mention this in orbit?”

  “Blame Sam,” whined the computer. “He set the mapping parameters. I wasn’t asked for alerts on unusual features. A range of active volcanoes would not have been red-flagged.”

  “Why do I find that really disturbing? How many more sites like this can you pinpoint?” asked Betty, not bothering to hide her exasperation.

  It took a few moments for the bot to up-link with the B.O.B. before answering. “I can readily count more than two dozen planet-wide, Betty. There may be more, but I would need to do some additional scans.”

  “And you couldn’t mention this? Where’s the nearest…other than the one we just left?”

  “Barely a hundred kilometers westward.”

  Forty-minutes later, Betty circled the new valley. The orientation was less obvious, the forest being much older, placing the event as long as three hundred years earlier. Betty figured the downed trees would take at least that long to rot, for only an occasional glimpse of trunks remained visible through the well-established growth.

  “Charlie, we’re going to have to have a serious talk about little details like this. Sam and I can’t think of everything!”

  On their way back to the Flipper-Doodle, Betty came upon a lake nestled in a forest over-shadowed by terraced cliffs on the low side of snow-capped mountains. A generous stream wound its way from the highlands, branching into a series of waterfalls leaping from terrace to terrace, at last cascading into the lake’s northern end, where sparkling clouds of mist shone with oscillating rainbows. Taken with the idyllic scene, she landed in a spacious clearing at the lake’s southern shore.

  To her left, the stream resumed its journey, meandering into the thickening woods. At first bordered with low-lying shrubs and small trees resembling willows, the watercourse entered the forest where the larger trees leaned forward, the over-hanging limbs forming a natural, shaded cloister. In the mid-day sun, lozenges of light reflecting from the water’s swirling current sparkled in shimmering patterns of color on the underside of the trees and bushes. Before Betty, a narrow beach gave clear view of the falls and lake, where crystal-clear water revealed a sandy bottom patrolled by schools minnows and tiny fish.

  Betty dismounted and approached the lake’s edge. After long moments of absorbing the captivating splendor, then spoke in an almost whisper. “’And there were gardens bright with sinuous rills, where blossomed many an incense bearing tree; and here were forests ancient as the hills enfolding sunny spots of greenery.’”

  “Coleridge, Betty? Sam would be amused at such romantics.”

  “There is simply no magic in your soul, Charlie,” said the woman, removing her helmet, placing it on the air-scooter’s rear seat. “I believe Samuel would identify with the great Kahn.”

  Betty kicked off her ankle-boots and began removing her tunic. Next, she unbuckled her weapon and hung the belt from one of the scooter’s handles.

  “Ah…mistress. Just what do you think you are doing?”

  “You’re a smart computer,” Betty replied, wiggling her hips and lowering her trousers. “How can I possibly resist such an inviting body of water?”

  “Then do me one small favor,” pleaded Charlie. “As a precaution, please wear your comm-plug…just to make me happy.”

  “You are such a worry-wart,” Betty laughed, making certain the tiny, spongy device was secure in her ear. Starting towards the water, she paused in thought, then returned to the scooter removing her undergarments.

  She stepped into the water, scattering startled minnows. She squealed at the shock of cold water, and with a laugh, pushed off the shallows, stroking outwards. In deeper water, she dove, surveying the sandy bottom. Surfacing to take breath, she continued examining the lake’s depths. She hunted for nothing in particular, but was taken aback by the lake’s clarity.

  Meanwhile, the bot carefully scanned both the water and the lake’s edge. Utilizing sub-audible sonics and low-level lasers, Charlie watched for intrusions or threats to the woman’s safety. Suddenly, movement of something small within the nearby underbrush caught the computer’s attention. Immediately Charlie’s full sensory array zoomed in on the hidden intruder. It was a diminutive creature, furtively drawing closer. Charlie considered alerting Betty, but when the animal’s head poked out of its leafy cover, the computer concluded no danger was presented and decided to observe further.

  Betty broke surface, examining a pebble plucked from the bottom. It felt quite heavy, considering its size, and she was certain it would have appeared rusted even if it had been on dry land. Turning it over in her hands, she was lost in thought when Charlie suddenly broke her reverie.

  “Oh, Betty…I hate to interrupt…but we have a visitor!”

  Because there was no alarm in Charlie’s announcement, Betty thought Sam might have arrived to join her. By looking sh
oreward, any such thought vanished. For standing on the craft’s rear seat, its front paws propped on Betty’s helmet, a small, thin creature leaned forward, staring into the spider-bot’s optical lens, its nose and whiskers twitching in curiosity.

  “Well…would you look at that,” she whispered. “Charlie…don’t scare it!” She carefully stroked towards shore, her gaze never leaving the animal.

  When her feet touched bottom, she stood carefully, the only sound that of the water dripping from her to the lake’s surface. Immediately, the animal turned, focusing on the woman; but it did not shy away or display a hint of alarm. Rather, it watched the approaching woman, standing on its hind legs, testing the air with its nose while making soft, chirping sounds. Betty drew within a few feet and stopped; she and creature staring intently at each other, neither making sudden movements that might startle the other.

  “Hey, little guy,” cooed Betty. “I’m thinking a coati…what would you say, Charlie?”

  “The nose is too short. However, its coloring is very much like a raccoon’s.”

  “Yeah, but the body shape and head structure are all wrong. Plus, the tail isn’t striped,” She took a tentative step closer. “A lemur, maybe?”

  “Not quite…I do not believe it is a primate; it clearly lacks binocular vision. And the tail obviously is not prehensile. Also, look at the paws...more like a squirrel’s than a monkey’s.”

  Betty continued inching forward, until the animal could have reached out and touched her face. Still, it showed not the slightest apprehension.

  “Careful, Betty, I do not want to have to replace one of your eyes!”

  “Don’t be silly! Just look at him! I’ll bet I could touch him...”

  Having said it, she acted on her impulse. She hesitantly reached out, then proceeded with renewed confidence. Touching the top of the animal’s head, she began stroking it gently. It responded by leaning into her touch, closing its eyes and uttering a low, chattering sound, not unlike a purr.

  “Oh, I cannot believe this! He shows no fear at all! Here…let’s try this…”

  Gingerly, she used both hands to hold the animal’s head, and with a thumb, lifted its upper lip, exposing little, but fiercely sharp, fangs. When she released the lip, the creature shook its head, and pressed back into her hand, all the while staring into her eyes.

  “Well, we were looking for carnivores…and we’ve found one!” She gently pushed the animal aside, removing her undergarments from beneath it. “With this lake here, I’ll wager he’s primarily a fish and rodent eater. But these claws are perfect for climbing trees…I’d guess he’s not above robbing nests.”

  Betty dressed with the creature placidly watching, as though captivated with the woman and her scooter. Fully clothed, Betty picked up the animal and was surprised as it settled into her arms as if it was domesticated. When she placed it on the ground, it scampered back up to the scooter’s seat, chattering all the while. After several repeats, Betty finally relented.

  “Looks like you have a new pet,” said Charlie. “Sam will be jealous! What will you name it?”

  Betty climbed onto the scooter and experimentally placed the animal in her lap. It snuggled there, securely positioned, remaining calm and unafraid even after the machine took to the air.

  “He reminds me of the polecat family,” said Betty, stroking the creature’s back. “The ferrets, otters, mongooses…mongeese? Minks, skunks, martins…hey! There we go—we’ll call you Marty!”

  ***

  While the bots disassembled and packed away the air-scooter, Sam and Betty sat on the Unspunnenstein, watching the grazers over-run the camp. Earlier, Sam programmed the lander’s food processor to churn out some oats, which he experimentally tossed to a group of the small grass-eaters. The herbivores wasted no time consuming every bit, their nimble lips seeking out each morsel, then took to following Sam everywhere, going so far as to nip his pants if he stood in one spot too long. So he manufactured several hundred pounds worth to accommodate the entire herd. For surprisingly, the others outside the camp had sensed there was something novel occurring, and they literally came running.

  “You should known better, Samalot,” chided Betty. “They’re like goats…we’re going to have to watch our step…their droppings are everywhere!”

  Now, both were silent, watching Marty move about the herd, inspecting the larger animals. The goatalopes, as Betty named them, showed not the least concern. Some of the grazers even touched noses with Marty, then went about their business, completely at ease with his presence.

  “Talk about lambs lying down with lions,” mused Sam.

  “Yeah…but these aren’t sheep…and Marty is a far cry from a lion.”

  “So what are you going to do with him? Take him back to the lake?”

  “Are you kidding? He follows me around like a puppy! I’m keeping him! I always wanted a pet…and you’re too big! Marty! Here boy!”

  The small creature spun around, stood upright, focusing his full attention on Betty, his nose and whiskers testing the air like animated antennae. Then, like a bolt of furry lightening, he streaked towards them and fluidly scampered into Betty’s lap.

  “You see that?” she asked, petting Marty as he playfully nipped her fingertips. “Have you heard of any wild animal acting like this? He recognizes and responds to a name I gave him two hours ago! Now…what do you make of all these impacts?”

  “So you figured it out too?”

  “Wasn’t difficult. With all the air-blast sites…looks like there’s been a half-dozen in the last 500-years! Probably more since some must have exploded over the oceans.”

  “Yeah, that’s what the bores revealed. Charlie and I figure an average of once every 50-years.”

  “Did you check the scans for craters?”

  “Yep…there seems to be 20 or so lakes formed by impacts…a few craters in arid zones…nothing too spectacular. Nothing you wouldn’t find on Old Earth!”

  “Which indicates the atmospheric impacts are mostly from comets,” said the woman. “On the positive side, I’ve picked a name. Now don’t laugh!” When Sam nodded, she continued. “I decided when I found that lake…and watching Marty interact with these grazers validates my choice! I want to call it Xanadu!”

  “Sounds good to me. But I haven’t told you everything. Your paradise is about to get a little less pleasant.” He paused, as if reluctant to continue. “Remember those comets when we began to map the system?”

  “Don’t tell me they’re coming this way!” When he continued looking at the ground, she had her answer. She hissed a string of expletives that would have singed the ear-hairs of the most seasoned mariners.

  “I don’t believe this!” she cried, swinging her arms wide in consternation. “We find the first Earth-normal planet and it’s about to be struck by a comet? Could it possibly get worse?”

  “I’m afraid it does. We’ve been discussing relatively small bodies…less than a kilometer across, for the most part. The kind that knock down forests and start large fires. There hasn’t been a big strike in two hundred millennia. But one’s coming now…it’ll be an ELE, Betts…and it’s going to hit in less than three days.”

  To his surprise, Betty did not renew her cursing, but seemed to cheer in her mood.

  “Then what are we waiting for?” she asked, turning and striding up the Flipper-Doodle’s ramp. “Come on! Samson, Marty…road trip!”

  “And just where are we going?” Sam asked, following Betty. Marty sprinted past him and jumped into Betty’s outstretched arms as she stooped to catch him.

  “That’s a silly question! We’re going to go stop the comet!”

  Chapter Four

  Sam sat in the pilot’s chair while Betty paced about the B.O.B.’s control room. Marty perched on a nearby panel, watching Betty intently, waiting for her to sit so he could reclaim her lap.

  On the viewer, two comets floated in the darkness. The smaller, more than a kilometer in diameter, led the procession
towards Xanadu. They were separated by a dozen kilometers, having split apart during gravitational interaction with one of the outer planets. The ship’s course paralleled the comets, avoiding the substantial trails of gas and debris whipped astern by the solar wind.

  “All right, Betts…we’re here. Don’t you think it’s time to share your plan?”

  Betty stopped pacing and turned to Sam, her hands on her hips, radiating defiance. She spoke firmly, with confidence and conviction, as if daring Sam to find fault with her ideas.

  “What if we warp the comets?” She quickly sat next to Sam and stared at him intently. Marty saw his chance, immediately leaping from his perch and scrambling onto the woman’s lap.

  “What if we what?”

  “Warp the comets! Get in front of them, open a warp-hole and send them into deep space!”

  The man slowly shook his head while avoiding Betty’s gaze. “I was afraid of something like this…it’s not that easy, Betty! That main body is every bit of four-kilometers across! Do you have any idea how much power a warp generator would need to tear that large a hole in spacetime?”

  “What about the small one?”

  “Small one? As compared to what? It’s over a kilometer wide! That’s still more than we can handle! At full power, going for size rather than distance, we could hardly…I don’t know…Charlie, what’s the best guess on the maximum size we can generate?”

  “That depends,” the computer replied. “Are you planning on overloading the generators? Or do you intend on ever using them again?” When both Sam and Betty roared in impatience, Charlie quickly continued. “Fine, fine…calm down. At our best, maybe seven hundred meters…six hundred for sure.”

  “What about if we synchronize the Flipper-Doodle’s warp generators to the ship’s?” asked Betty. “Can we do that?”

  “I do not see why not,” Charlie mused, after a nanosecond of reflection. “We can harmonize the focus through the power couplings. With you at the lander’s controls and Sam in here, it should be easy enough.”

  Sam sat stunned. “Betts, you’re a genius! Why didn’t I think of this? How much would we gain if we do that, Charlie?”