Bloodhype

by Foster, Alan Dean;

  "I wouldn't bet it was close inshore. It can't be all that enormous-the island certainly isn't. I'd think the AAnn would have noticed it if it were close in."

  "Maybe we're not on top of it, but it is close to shore. Could be the AAnn are myopic from so much moisture. My calculations weren't that far off."

  "Still, if we can spot it," added Porsupah, "you'd think the AAnn would have."

  "Yes, you would," said Kitten thoughtfully. "Still, they've no reason to suspect its presence, as we have."

  "Could be it has a way of evading alarms similar to the one we tripped coming in," said Mal. "Why it would want to hang around a populated, armed area like this one beats me, though."

  "Maybe to study," replied Kitten, shuddering slightly.

  "Too many imponderables," chipped in Porsupah. "Let's circle the island. We might not spot the thing itself, but we'll be looking for signs of its presence, whereas the AAnn wouldn't be. If you two just want to argue about it, go back to the raft."

  The two humans said nothing. They followed the small alien at a comfortable trot up the pebbled beach. Neither of the two humans could still believe that the AAnn hadn't spotted the creature. But then it was hard to believe the creature, too.

  They'd been jogging along the curving shoreline for perhaps five minutes when Porsupah halted them. He was staring out to sea.

  "Well, what have you spotted? At this point I'm not too choosy," Mal said. They'd already had to put out two more AAnn and avoid or inconvenience several elaborate alarm systems. At this rate they'd never cover a tenth of the island's perimeter. Assuming they weren't shot or blown ship-high first. But Kitten and Porsupah seemed to recognize the concealed triggers as though they'd set them themselves. Mal hadn't noticed a one.

  The question of what such an extensive network of alarms was doing in a supposedly innocuous area was another problem that defied logic.

  What they needed, dammit, was a few answers!

  Porsupah had knelt and was examining the sand. He took up a small pawful, rubbed the grains between his fingers, sniffed at it. Abruptly he turned and walked back about ten meters along their route. He performed a similar ritual there, then returned. To their questioning stares he replied, "This section of beach and forest wasn't arranged by nature. Not only is the sand different taken up from a respectable depth, I think-but the rocks and overall landscape have an unnatural feel to them that I can't explain in terranglo or symbospeech. Everything is just a little bit cockeyed."

  Mal took a long look at the sloping beach, the thick semi-jungle. "I can't detect anything out of the ordinary."

  "Nor I," said Kitten, the landscape glowing eerily in her goggles. "But I believe you, Pors."

  "There is only one structure visible, too." The Tolian pointed.

  A long, low building, set back in the trees. It ran perpendicular to the beach and was a little over a story high. As they walked towards the windowless structure, Mal noticed that an occasional tree -not all, by any means- was tilted at an angle that deviated sufficiently from the norm to be noticeable. If you happened to be looking for such things. There was no question about it now. This section of Replerian real estate had been rebuilt, delicately rebuilt, to suit some specific purpose. Moreover, it had been done recently, according to Pors. This suggested hurry, which in turn suggested a need for secrecy. And it had been rearranged to look like it hadn't been rearranged, which hinted at a deal more.

  The building proved to be unguarded. It was painted, almost enameled, a dark gray-green. A dull roaring sound emanated from somewhere inside. Kitten put a hand against the wall. It vibrated slightly.

  "Look for a door," Porsupah suggested. "I'm going to check something else."

  The Tolian disappeared into the jungled darkness. The door turned up almost immediately, recessed in the side they were on.

  Interesting," murmured Mal. He was staring at the AAnn lettering on the airlock-type portal. "It says-"

  "I can read AAnnish," said Kitten.

  Porsupah returned a moment later, puffing out short, whistling breaths.

  "Where've you been?" asked Kitten.

  "Up a tree. Whoof! I wanted a quick look at the top of this thing, and we didn't truck along a ladder."

  "See anything?" asked Mal.

  "The building runs I couldn't say how far back into these trees. Top of it is all ventilators. Big ones. You can see the fans from high enough. They're well screened and you'd never notice them from the air, but this close- no mistaking them."

  "Well now, this is interesting," said Kitten, staring at the door. "This inscription here declares solemnly that anyone who enters without six kinds of ultra-top-high security passes is assured ail sorts of lengthy and painful deaths."

  "Ultra-secret ventilator complex pulling lots of air someplace, combined with a thoroughly dug up and replanted section of beach and forest. Need one say more?" the Tolian announced.

  Kitten was already examining the lock.

  "It doesn't take an expert to tell this whole setup was put together recently," said Mal. He ran a hand over the gleaming guard rail. "Practically factory fresh."

  They'd been descending helical steps for what seemed a small part of a year. They'd found an elevator inside but after some discussion had passed it up for fear of not pushing the proper button and setting off hidden alarms. Not to mention the possibility of meeting someone unpleasant at the end of the shaft. The stairwell seemed a better bet. The only place it registered a power drain was in the back of Kitten's legs.

  "The construction is solid, but still far from well integrated," Mal continued. "Place was built in a hurry, for sure."

  With Porsupah in the lead, they reached the end of the stairway. It terminated in a small room filled with tools and boxes of unknown content. The Tolian started off down a long, dimly lit tunnel. Their goggles made it as bright as the main terminus in Terraport. The direction led out under the sea.

  The tunnel opened abruptly onto a brightly lit corridor lined with doors and hastily thrown-together decorative tiles. A surprised shout in a guttural voice sounded just ahead.

  Kitten pulled her tiny pistol, dropped to her right knee and fired, all in one motion. The AAnn technic crumpled after taking two steps away from them.

  They dragged the still body a few meters into the dark of the tunnel, reemerged cautiously into the light of the corridor.

  "We can't keep this up indefinitely, you know," said Mal, trying to look fourteen ways at once. "They're going to start finding these bodies eventually."

  "Eventually is not immediately," whispered Kitten, panting slightly. The technic had been heavy for an AAnn. "It will be assumed for some time yet that those we put under are asleep or elsewhere. Hopefully, even if one or two are discovered by accident, no one will think to connect them up until we've departed. Anyway, the AAnn hate to be out at night and do so only when ordered. They certainly need their beauty sleep."

  "It won't be assumed they fell asleep if some casual passerby spots a couple of those darts sticking out of his friend's neck."

  Kitten answered between breaths as they jogged around another corner. "The darts themselves are made from a specially constituted gelatin. It dissolves untraceably into, the bloodstream. It also contains a coagulating agent to halt bleeding around the wound. Thirty seconds after impact, it would take careful chemical analysis of the blood to tell that a target's been drugged, much less shot."

  Mal examined his own pistol with renewed interest as they swung to their left. A trade item with excellent possibilities. True, it might not be for sale by the Church, but still ...

  "Here's one that says `Life-Systems Monitoring,"' said Kitten. "It's the first one I've seen with that blue danger seal on it. Let's try it."

  The latch lifted easily to Porsupah's soft touch and he slipped inside, Kitten following close behind and Mal covering.

  There were three AAnn in the room. All wore similar expressions of surprise and bewilderment at the nocturnal alien invasion.
One soldier and two scientist-types, judging by the toga-chainmail of the intellectual elite the others wore.

  The soldier's hand got about halfway to the ugly pistol strapped to his haunch before he collapsed on his snout, unconscious. The younger of the two scientists continued to stare in disbelief until he was sent sleepward. The oldster, however, made a dive for something at the far end of the big central console. He didn't reach it. Singeing Porsupah's left shoulder, Kitten caught the scientist in the midsection. He doubled up in midair and she shot him again, to make sure.

  Mal took a fast glance up and down the, corridor, then closed the door. Kitten was replacing the gas cartridge and dart cluster in her pistol. At the same time she was examining the section of console the scientist had been trying to reach. Mal looked at her questioningly and she indicated a clearly marked azure button.

  "General alarm. Close."

  Porsupah was rubbing his shoulder where the hot gas from her pistol had singed him. "Good! If it were anything less, soft-and-round, I'd mark you."

  "They're all quite alive, if not kicking," she said, turning over the last of the three. Mal and Porsupah had moved to a wide glassite panel and were staring unmoving into it. She put hands on hips. "Well, aren't you even interested?"

  "Come and take a look at this," whispered Porsupah without turning from the glass.

  "What could fascinate you cretins so ..." She caught sight of what lay beyond the panel and stopped talking'.

  A Brobdinguagian chamber showed on the other side. If was brightly, almost painfully, illuminated. Small silver-suited figures of what were clearly AAnn technics clustered in groups about the wall to their left. Most of the chamber was filled with a gigantic spheroid of nightmare black. It quivered slightly here and there, like jelly. The fur at the back of Porsupah's neck stood on end.

  There was a sharp crackling sound, audible through a speaker set above one cabinet of instruments. A small bolt of electricity jumped from a far device to the ebony mountain. Ponderously, the massive bulk shifted away from the generator. It flowed/crawled towards them. Another crackling followed and the second bolt drove the thing back to the center of the chamber. It halted just short of three silver-suited figures.

  "Well, that explains a lot,' Kitten murmured. "The AAnn have some peculiar tastes, all right. Can't say I care for their style in pets."

  "That winds down the `invincible alien' theory of our resurrected friend," said Mal grimly. "Our bescaled neighbors seem to have managed to keep it in hand."

  "Directing it, too," put in Porsupab thoughtfully. "Moving it from place to place via electrical stimulation. Conditioning."

  "Could be Peot overestimated its powers. Just sizewise, though, it's plenty big enough to do a lot of damage, improperly directed," said Kitten.

  "Direction depends on your point of view," said Mal.

  "You're always looking for an angle, aren't you, throwback? That's the sort of evaluation I'd expect from one of them." She pointed at a cluster of techs.

  "Listen, I've had just about-"

  "Surely," Porsupah put in hastily, "it is of sufficient mass to destroy a good-sized village. And it may be an especially tough organism. Such a creature could indeed prove a formidable threat on a world as undeveloped as Repler."

  "We've no assurance they plan anything along those lines," said Kitten. Mal snorted. "Still, I think it's time we concluded our temporary circumvention of the official policy on non-intrusion into Concession territory. Let's get back to the raft." She headed for the door, Mal and Porsupah following.

  "Do I detect the advocation of violence in your words?" asked Porsupah. "It would amount to an act of war."

  "You think the AAnn would risk a full-scale confrontation over violation of territory on this tiny base?"

  "Of course not," the Tolian continued. "But if they feel this project of theirs could develop into something significant..:'

  "I see. Well, I wasn't considering it seriously, anyway. Fortunately, it's not our decision to make. I have a hunch that if the Major calls the AAnn Commander for a friendly chat and just casually mentions that he's fully aware of what's going on here, the AAnn won't be as inclined to try anything drastic. Not if they know they'll be held accountable."

  "By the time the Commander here figures out how to proceed," she continued, "something appropriate will have been worked out in the way of restraints at the ambassadorial level. Which is all that needs to be done, I think. Obviously Peot has grossly overestimated this thing's abilities. Or else it's been dormant so long it's lost whatever it once might have had in the way of strange powers."

  "One thing," said Mal. "If they follow what I understand is their usual procedure in cases like ours, we ought to be let go some time tomorrow. Next day at the' latest. With a verbal reprimand. But there :s always the chance something might hold up our leave-taking."

  "Oh, I didn't intend to wait until they let us go," said Kitten, jogging easily on the sandy flooring. "We'll broadcast from the raft first thing in the morning. Their own transceivers ought to be busy then."

  "They're certain, to be monitoring us as a matter of course," he replied. "You know they'll pick up any broadcasting you do."

  "I expect them to. But all they'll hear is a typical screeching performance via my alias to Church authorities. That alone ought to be enough to make any listeners switch off. The real message won't be transmitted in words."

  "Phycode," said Mal, pursing his lips. "You can do that?" He sounded surprised.

  "Of course, silly!" Unexpectedly, she giggled, green glass chimes. For a battle-rated officer, it was indecently infectious. A corner of her mouth went up; then a cheek, the left one, twitched twice. An ear wiggled.

  "I just made a long, involved comment about your probable ancestry. An AAnn wouldn't have detected a thing. To a perceptive human I'd appear to be afflicted with a slight case of the fidgits. But to someone versed in the code... "

  " ... I'd have seemed properly insulted, I know," Mal said. "I've heard about it, but never seen it-or have I?"

  "That's what I mean," she grinned. "I'm very good at it." They'd reached the bottom of the stairwell. Porsupah started up.

  "You're sure that when all these lizards come around, they won't remember what happened to them? Those three in the monitoring section, for example."

  Her voice drifted back from just ahead. "They'll be out for at least another hour yet. No, they won't. In addition to being a strong soporific, the drug conveniently wipes out memory just prior to being administered. An intentional side effect. But if we'd taken a minute or two longer with those three, they'd remember enough to make things awkward."

  The sun and the first guard were just coming up as they reentered the sleek sportsraft. Kitten was the first to her own cabin. She changed from the skin-tight, light-bending black crawfit to something suitably grotesque and flamboyant for a young lady of her assumed station. It wouldn't do for an AAnn vidcast scanner to pick her up transceiving in a one-piece suit designed to create an effect of semi-invisibility.

  Mal and Porsupah changed a bit faster, not having to be concerned with such details as, for example, coiffure. Kitten essayed a few eloquent twitches, paraphrastically speaking, and felt up to the task. She'd have to trust to memory and improvisation to handle the verbal park of the act.

  Porsupah waved as she entered the plush control lounge. He was adjusting the transceiver. The AAnn would almost surely pick up the cast, but it didn't hurt to try for as tight a beam as possible, anyway.

  "The arrival of your friend with the shipment you requested is due shortly, I am told," said Commander Parquit. Rose walked comfortably at his side.

  "A few necessities and items of nostalgic value."

  "I'm sure," Parquit replied drily. "If the shipment is as small as you claim, then both you and your materials will be removed to orbit, there to await an appropriate transport as rapidly as can be managed, as per our agreement. An event which I look forward to with more than a modicum of ple
asure." The Commander was making no effort to hide his dislike.

  "You don't seem to care for me especially," offered Rose.

  "I am not fond of your race, as few of my kind are. You strike me additionally as a particularly loathsome example. We can bargain without friendship. It is not required I kiss you."

  "Not sure I'd care for that myself."

  "I advise you not to have worries on that account. Must you carry that thing everywhere?" He indicated the metal case with its explosive, deadly contents. One breath of the powder could kill any of his command slowly and painfully.

  "Oh, it's not activated just now for my, ah, bargaining purposes. Sorry if it makes you nervous. It's just that I've gotten in the habit of not letting it out of my sight. Not that I'd expect you ever goin' back on your word, you understand."

  Parquit made an A-Ann expression indicative of nausea, coupled with unconcern.

  "Just that I feel more secure with it near me, see?"

  "I neither pretend nor care to," the Commander replied.

  "Incidentally, where are we headed?"

  "Harbor Control." They halted outside a door. Sensing their body heat, the semi-transparent portal slid back.

  They entered a wide room that was completely transparent from walls to ceiling. Only the floor was opaque. They were not terribly high. Still, there was no sense in subjecting some timorous controller to vertigo. It wasn't necessary to see beneath one's feet. They were in the approximate center of the island, just above the tallest trees of the forest.

  "As your companion is due with your possessions soon, I would prefer you to be here. There -should be no confusion if the agreed-upon coding is properly utilized. A proper visual identification, however, is far preferable. I have reasons for such precautions. Someone else could have intercepted the coding. This way we will be certain."

  "Afraid of something, old skin?"

  "No more so than normal. Besides, anything that will aid in expediting your removal gives me enjoyment. Other matters press heavily on my time. Rest assured, however, that getting rid of you is foremost in my mind."