Apex

by Robert Appleton

  “Sweltering. But it’s either this or have my ear bent by a steady stream of complaining customers.”

  “Any time you want to borrow my tranq stick…”

  “Tempting, brother. Mighty tempting. What can I do you for?”

  “I’ve been trying to get a hold of Carlisle, to find out more about those smugglers he arrested.”

  “Ah, the dipshits.” Isherwood scratched his whiskers, cracked a smirk. “That’s what Carlisle and I call them. You’d be hard pressed to find a bigger pair of dumbasses.”

  “Amateurs?”

  “They tried the old switcheroo with their luggage. Carlisle had scanned one suitcase and given it the all-clear, so they tried to swap it with an identical one behind his back. The only problem was, they’d stuffed it to bursting with contraband and hadn’t fastened it properly. Its lid sprang open right in front of the whole tour party.”

  Vaughn shook his head. “Gotta love it. What was inside?”

  “All kinds. Sealed bags, shrink-wrap carriers, specimen vials. Everything from insect venom to tree bark. There’s a complete inventory on the system. But the most common material was something called nylonicum, spun by a tiny tree-dwelling bug, something like an aphid apparently. Colonies of these things spin a kind of communal webbing that billows over carnivorous trees, catching spores and small flying creatures. The trees digest whatever’s caught, and then the aphids feed off the sap the trees produce. Ingenious, right?”

  “Symbiosis.”

  “That’s the word I can never remember! Exactly. Symbiosis. They co-exist for mutual advantage.”

  “And this nylonicum is valuable?” asked Vaughn.

  “It’s one of the strongest known materials anywhere in existence. The aphids spin it thinner than a human hair, but when its twined together, its tensile strength is off the charts. Its industrial applications could be, well, use your imagination. But like many exobiological processes, it’s hard, if not impossible, to synthesize without extensive studying of the host life-forms. That’s where the Endemic Laws come in.”

  “Yeah. We’re allowed to observe and study in situ, but we’re not allowed to remove species off-world for study.”

  Isherwood clicked his finger and pointed his affirmation at Vaughn. “And that’s where experts like your Jane come in. There’s a million protocols our rangers and scientists have to follow, and we have to improvise new ones every day, as we learn. But the dipshits tried to circumvent all that. Makes me puke to think there are others, maybe on the Hesp right now, who are engaged in that kind of criminal crap.”

  “What else do you know about the dipshits? Do you have any statements on file?”

  Ushering Vaughn back toward the lawn, Isherwood said, “In my office. I’ll open up the mainframe for you, and you can dig till your heart’s content, Detective. Local law enforcement took them into custody, I know that. And COVEX handled the interrogation. Apart from that, I really don’t know what info they’ll have sent us. Governor Nabakov told me he’d nearly suffered whiplash, it all happened so quick.”

  “COVEX, you mean?”

  “All of it. The sheriff, COVEX, the transfer. A well-oiled machine.”

  Vaughn made a mental note of that phrase—A well-oiled machine—to add to Miz Zeller’s from earlier: Something unwholesome happening inside the human governance of Hesperidia.

  “Do you think someone put the dipshits up to it?”

  “Absolutely,” said Isherwood. “They were mules, nothing more, if you ask me. Carlisle thinks so too. Probably legit tourists until someone got to them, bribed them to use their cases to smuggle the contraband off-world. You have to remember that we vet our customers carefully before we let them anywhere near this place, and repeat visitors are flagged for even sharper scrutiny. Tour packages are expensive. I figure the most cost-effective and low-risk way to smuggle contraband off this planet is to recruit the tourists themselves, either a straight-up bribe, or blackmail them somehow. You could do that any time during their stay, or you could even do it before they get here. If that’s the case, there’s an insider feeding confidential customer information to the smugglers.”

  “We’re looking at an insider whether or not,” Vaughn pointed out. “First, who has the knowledge and the expertise to gather the specimens and biological material out in the field? Then, if this is an ongoing problem, the procurer or procurers would have to be permanent residents here. Tourists come and go, and they only stay for short durations. You say any repeat visitors are red-flagged?”

  “Not red-flagged, but definitely flagged for closer scrutiny.”

  “For what sort of reasons would you exclude a repeat visitor?”

  “Frequency of visits. We have a clause that prevents any customer from coming here more than once a Core year. Other reasons are things like negative feedback from the tour guide, if the customer was troublesome or quarrelsome or wasn’t obeying the rules, or was just a pain in the ass. We get a lot of pampered, entitled types who don’t react well to delays or cancelled excursions due to bad weather, vehicular breakdowns, things like that. And to be honest we’re always insanely over-booked, so we can afford to be picky and help make our guides’ lives a little easier by excluding the nightmare squibs. Once bitten and all that. Young solo customers, or customers with a background in pharma or biotech research, or other relevant fields, we take a closer look at their links and profiles. We have algorithms that highlight and cross-reference keywords, known black market business fronts, expertise in certain professional fields, etcetera. In the end, though, they’re mostly judgement calls. It’s not enough to stop smuggling, not if there’s an inside operator. And to be honest, I think that’s where you come in, Detective. As I’m sure Jane’s already told you, you’re the only one we all trust to police the Hesp the right way.”

  “Appreciated.”

  “That the reason you’re here, to throw a net over this thing once and for all? To find out who the insider is?”

  “Not exactly,” replied Vaughn. “It’s a side issue for now, but I’m not going to let it go. You have my word on that.”

  “That’s the only word I need. Come on, we can grab a bite on the way. Before those COVEX clowns swarm the cafeteria.”

  Only two delegates sat at the dining tables, both male, both loners. One, a healthy-eating middle-aged type with old-school horn-rimmed spectacles, had a bandaged foot, and a crutch resting beside him. He nodded and silently toasted Vaughn with his cup of paleo smoothie as their gazes met. Professional courtesy, what Vaughn liked to see. The other man, much older, craggier, was ensconced in his omnipod, grinning through some private virtual experience, oblivious to the world and all its woes. Isherwood ordered two Mexican tostada dishes, mini fajitas and a couple of energy drinks, and asked the waitress to send them up to his office via the smart-tube when they were ready.

  It was a spacious office, surprisingly neat for such a rough and ready character, apart from a boxful of children’s toys spread over a playmat in one corner. Isherwood did have kids somewhere, but he was a divorcee. As Hesperidia was not technically a human colony, and not terraformed, COVEX policy prevented children from living here on a permanent or semi-permanent basis, even if both parents worked here. Vaughn guessed the toys were for the tourist kids to play with during their parents’ meetings with Alien Safari officials. He liked that touch. Always had. Children were too often the forgotten casualties of colonial expansion, if not physically than psychologically. It was good to see those in charge include a bit of fun where possible.

  Isherwood logged Vaughn into the mainframe, then went to make a few calls to the field personnel. He took his meal with him. After orienteering himself on the system, Vaughn dug into his tostada and the smuggling case with equal relish.

  It was mid-afternoon when Jan messaged him over his ’pod that she and the others were ready for their return trip north. Vaughn had promised to taxi them up there, but this time he wouldn’t be staying to resume the hunt. It was ranger work,
and this trip was, after all, an audition for the role of First Ranger. Jan and Ruben now had all the equipment they needed to capture a rogue creature that size. Indeed, they’d both captured far bigger. Tranquilizer rifles, reinforced nets, a carbon fiber cage, two hoverbikes with sidecars, one solo, and a gravlev trailer: they could probably bring King Kong back to Miramar with all that. Vaughn’s ship’s hold hadn’t been this full since he’d rescued three dozen stranded salvagers in the Vox Minimus system.

  “So it’s not an off-world organism?” he asked Jan when she skipped into the cockpit and spun round on the passenger seat, making it squeak over and over.

  “Preliminary analysis confirms it’s indigenous to the Hesp,” she said. “But it’s an old species.”

  “How old?”

  She shrugged. “One of the oldest life-forms we’ve come across. Its cellular biology has amorphous characteristics we’ve never seen before. Too early to place it in an evolutionary context, but what I’ve seen so far suggests it pre-dates all but the apex sea-dwelling creatures currently alive today. It’s certainly older than all the land-based progenitors. My guess is it evolved from the early amphibians like mynscythia dux, but that it’s more at home on land than in water. The lab work is going to keep me busy for a while. And if we can catch it alive, oh boy!” She swept her hair back excitedly, and spun the seat round again. “Plus I get to name it.”

  “How about something we can all pronounce this time,” he said. “Like…Tom.”

  “How about Dick?”

  “Harry it is.”

  She guffawed, then glanced over her shoulder. There was no one there, but Vaughn could tell she was wary of Ruben’s eavesdropping. He’d be looking for any advantage, any sign of distraction or weakness, to thrust himself into the limelight and take credit for what happened from now on. He hadn’t said a word to Vaughn since the frozen lake, and had played up his illness in an attempt to wheedle his way back into the women’s confidence.

  “So Miz Zeller didn’t analyze the contents of the vial after all?” he said. “She’s, what, waiting for supervision?”

  “She messaged Tynedale first, told him everything that had happened. He suggested she secure the vial somewhere until the whole nominating committee could look at it together.”

  “Suggested?”

  “Whatever that means, yeah. It’s just the way they do these things, I guess. You know what sticklers these COVEX types are.”

  He nodded. “But in the meantime, Ruben’s free to sabotage you all over again.”

  “Yes, but this time he’ll have two really smart women watching his every slick move. The geezer won’t stand a chance, trust me.”

  Vaughn wasn’t convinced, but he did laugh at her use of the word geezer, which he hadn’t heard in years. “When you’ve caught this thing, promise me you’ll come visit you-know-who with me.”

  “I promise. That your next stop after you’ve dropped us off?”

  “It’s one of them,” he said. “Why do I feel like an underpaid taxi service?”

  “Not underpaid. Just cheap.”

  “As in thrifty, I hope you mean.”

  “As in lowdown, cheap-ass skinflint,” replied Jan.

  “I’ll remember that on your birthday.”

  “You never remember my birthday.”

  “I—I…”

  “Face it, Vaughn, you’re the cheapest lawman since Deputy Dawg purchased his kibble with layaway coupons.”

  He opened his mouth to fling a retort, but nothing came out. Jan swung her seat around the dash and pecked him on the cheek. “But you’re my Deputy Dawg.”

  Cheap certainly wasn’t a word that could be used to describe the gear he helped unload at the crater campsite. Stopper seemed to recall previous rides in the sidecar—Vaughn had taken him on umpteen—and leapt into it as soon as Jan removed the cover. They both laughed at his antics, and his lolling tongue, panting in anticipation. Vaughn lingered a while to watch them embark, and waved them off. He admired Jan’s lithe form and aggressive handling as she accelerated the hoverbike around the crater rim, the wind blowing Stopper’s ears and jowls like a cartoon caricature of a canine flying at high speed.

  “Good hunting,” he said to their rapidly shrinking shapes. Then, as though his mind automatically switched gears, he returned to the smuggling case, and forgot all about the newborn predator loose in its ancient Arctic domain.

  Chapter Ten

  Ice flakes flung up by the hoverbikes’ vertical and horizontal thrusters swept out like the white cloak sleeves of a wizard casting a wintry spell. Jan glanced into her rearview mirror to make sure she hadn’t left the others too far behind. The devil had possessed her almost from the moment of her parting from Vaughn; an overwhelming urge to prove herself not only the best choice for First Ranger, but the only choice. That level of competitiveness had always brought out the worst in her as a companion but the best in her in other respects. For one, it made her ruthlessly efficient. And right now that was absolutely what was called for, she felt. It might have been that Ruben’s treachery was out in the open, and he had nothing to lose by pulling out all the stops on this hunt to best her. It might have been that Frau Zeller and Tynedale had allowed him to continue when there was more than sufficient grounds to disqualify him. Or it might have been that she was on the cusp of discoveries that would have profound effects on not only her work on Hesperidia, but her whole future. Whatever the reason, it had hiked her speedometer needle well above 100kph and kept it there for pretty much the entire ride, with the result that the others, while fast availing themselves of the wizard’s clutches, were simply unable to keep up with her.

  The tip of Stopper’s flapping tongue had begun to turn blue. He gave no indication that he was at all discomfited by this – quite the contrary, he was blissed out, eyes almost closed, in the stream of the headwind – but she decided to throttle back. They were nearing the top of the ridge. From here on it was probably best not to scream their presence. A gentle, low-alt approach would do. The frozen waterfall loomed massive over the rolling hills, its white mist swept into whorls by the jabs of mountain gusts. If the creature had indeed made its lair behind that, they had to formulate a careful plan to flush it out.

  “I’ve marked a spot about fifty meters west of the waterfall,” she told the others when they pulled up beside her on the edge of the frozen lake. “It should flash on your overlays. Do you see it?”

  They both affirmed.

  “Good. The ice is thickest there. It’s the lake bank abutting the cliff. My plan is for Ruben and I to circle round to that spot and leave our bikes there. Then we sneak up to the waterfall and lay two cinch nets, one on either side. We’ll then send a drone in to find out whereabouts in the cave the creature’s hiding. Then it’s a case of flares or smoke grenades to scare it out into the open. Cinch.”

  “That’s the most obvious way,” replied Ruben.

  “You have another?” Frau Zeller asked him.

  “I’ve thought of several.” He puffed out his chest, then settled into a long sigh. “But for the sake of efficiency, let’s go with Jane’s.”

  So he was on her wavelength at last, even if it was with a backhanded compliment.

  “And what can I do to help?” asked the COVEX rep.

  “You can hover over the lake, to the east of the falls,” replied Jan. “In the unlikely event the cinch nets don’t snare it and it breaks out, seeing you first of all should persuade it to head west, in the opposite direction. When it does, Ruben and I will be ready to tranq it with rifle darts.”

  “You’d best be good shots. Something that small, moving quick…”

  “Don’t worry about that,” Ruben assured her. “Jane’s aim is practically second to none.”

  “Practically?” asked Frau Zeller sarcastically. “Is the exception going to shock me?”

  “Oh, he’s a better shot than me, I’ll give him that much,” said Jan, nodding at his unusually gracious bow in reply. “But he’ll n
eed to prove it today. I’m on good form. I can feel it.”

  “That’s what I like to hear,” said the COVEX rep.

  “Well, it’s your show, Jane. Just tell us when.” But Ruben’s deference didn’t fool her for an instant. He was at his most treacherous when he was at his most obliging, as the coffee incident and likely the rover’s fuel cell outage had demonstrated. She would have to keep an eye on him at all times. But as long as they caught their quarry, the rest would be bragging rights.

  A steady rumble behind the vertical ice told that a large volume of water was cascading down somewhere inside the frozen cataract; it just wasn’t visible. The entire front was solid. A freezing mist billowed out of a gap either side of the base, from behind the falls. Only the stab points from the creature’s sharp appendages were visible in the thick glare ice. Jan lowered her snowshoes as lightly as possible so as not to crunch the loose flakes. She was crossing in front of the falls, ready to set her cinch net, when a new noise emerged from the passage. She stopped to listen. There it was again, followed by its echo. A bass-pitched blast, like a sudden violent blow from a foghorn. An otherworldly snort of distemper perhaps?

  She glanced back at Ruben, who’d paused during the setting of his own cinch, his eyes darting between the two entrances, one hand ready to swing for the tranq rifle slung over his shoulder. Jan laid her net trap, activated the cinch’s spring mechanism, and made her way back with huge, precise strides. More noises emerged, but they seemed to come from deeper inside.

  Back at their firing position along the west cliff wall, Jan and Ruben signaled for Frau Zeller to hover forward across the frozen lake. As she did, Ruben piloted an aerial drone into the left-hand passage. They both watched its live vidfeed on his small wrist-mounted screen. Natural light at first, then as the cavern darkened, the image switched automatically to infrared. Now the creature’s recent tracks were visible. They trended northwest, down toward a sanctum cut low into the rear wall of a larger cavern. Ruben expertly maneuvered the drone into it, and gasped at what he saw.