The front rank staggered, tried to turn, but couldn't because of the mob behind. Trapped, they surged forward and almost overwhelmed Marla. She fought like a thing possessed. Renn was just about to order a retreat when Jumo appeared beside him. He sensed others behind and knew they couldn't help because of the narrow stairwell. He and Jumo were so close that when the section leader fired, hot gases from his ejection port burned Renn's arm. It was worth it. Jumo's weapon doubled the sound causing all of the creatures to turn. Some made it, but many died, the bullets cutting them down in swaths. Suddenly they were gone. Their weapons made pinging sounds as they cooled and wounded creatures whimpered pitifully.
Jumo stared after the vanishing horde. “Damn. I swear to god this is the worst pus ball in the whole damn galaxy.” He turned to Renn. “I thought I ordered you to get the hell out of here.”
Renn nodded soberly. “So you did. But I got confused in the dark and ran in the wrong direction.”
Jumo regarded him disbelievingly. “Shit. You got confused and ... shit.” He turned to the marines on the stairs behind them, the beam from his flashlight revealing their grins. “What the hell are you grinning about? Get down there and finish off the wounded. What, I've gotta do everything?”
There was a whole chorus of “Yes-sir's,” but the marines were still smiling as they squeezed past Renn.
“What have we got?” The voice belonged to Honcho. The somewhat bedraggled looking Finthian had followed the marines down.
“Oh terrific,” Jumo said disgustedly. “Doesn't anyone listen around here? Did you hear me say, ‘all clear, come on down'?”
Honcho produced a sly Finthian grin. “I got confused and went the wrong way.”
Jumo just looked at the scientist for a moment, his jaw working wordlessly, and said, “Shit.” Then he turned and walked away. A series of single shots rang out from the chamber beyond as the marines finished off the wounded.
“Marla, are you all right?” Renn knelt beside her. Her fur was ripped here and there, and her muzzle dripped greenish blood.
She looked into his eyes. “I'm fine thanks to you, but just for the record, I agree with Jumo.”
“Traitor.” Renn used his sleeve to wipe some of the blood off her face.
“Very interesting.” The voice was Honcho's. The Finthian scientist was busily examining a dead monster. The light from his small flash roved this way and that, before coming to rest on its chest. “Jonathan, have you seen anything similar to this species during your time here?”
“Nope,” Renn answered. “These things look completely different from anything else I've seen. Plus they don't change to match the background.”
“Look at this,” Honcho said, beckoning him over.
Renn knelt down to take a closer look. The scientist's flashlight moved back and forth to illuminate the creature's brown chest. And then Renn saw them, nipples! Two rows of them. A mammal! What was a mammal doing on a planet where everything else was oviparous?
“Burt will be most interested,” Honcho said. “I'll ask Jumo to stabilize a couple.” The Finthian waddled off in Jumo's direction.
Renn knew specimen bags came in various sizes, each equipped with a canister of stabilizing gases. Put a specimen inside, seal it up, trigger the canister, and presto! Canned whatever. The specimens looked horrible through the cloudy plastic, but Renn supposed it was better than dissecting them on the spot, or hunting more later.
“Hey, Section!” The voice belonged to Ford. “Looks like we've got a swimming pool over here!”
Renn and Marla wound their way through the dead bodies and towards the bobbing lights. For the first time Renn realized they were in a large open area. If Honcho was correct, than this was the top floor of a fairly tall building. Why would anyone put a swimming pool on the top floor of a building?
One of the marines turned on a portable flood, and the sudden glare hurt Renn's eyes. The marines were gathered along a high wall. It looked to be four or five feet tall. Uncomfortably high for humans but just about right for tall, skinny builders. Stepping up Renn saw the wall formed a large open square about a hundred feet across. Remembering this was the top of floor of a high-rise building, or more accurately, a balcony, Renn realized the open area had once been an atrium. Not any more. Looking down, he saw jet black water twenty feet below. From the stains on the far wall he deduced that the water was sometimes much deeper. During the rainy seasons, no doubt. The water rippled gently as a tiny breeze found its way down the stairs, over the wall, and skittered across its surface. Renn shivered. Something about the black stillness of the water scared him. He felt a sharp pain in his right ankle. “What the...?”
Looking down he saw Marla. She'd nipped his ankle. “How about me you big lug? Did it ever occur to you that I'd like to look, too?”
Renn laughed. “Sorry.” Grasping her around the middle he heaved her up so she could rest her front legs on the top of the wall. As he did, she suddenly realized she'd asked for his help without worrying what he might think. It was a new high, or a new low, she wasn't sure which. She looked down at the inky water and nodded.
“OK, put me down before you get a hernia or something.” He put her down.
“Thank God. If I didn't know better I'd think you were putting on weight.” He felt another sharp pain in his ankle and said, “Stop that!”
“Interesting.” The voice was Honcho's. He'd just worked his way around the circumference of the wall.
“What do you make of it?” Marla asked. “Ford says it's a swimming pool.”
“Well, as far as I'm concerned, Ford is welcome to take a dip,” Honcho allowed thoughtfully. “But I doubt that's what the builders had in mind. My guess is that we're standing on a four-sided balcony over what was once an open space. If so the water isn't supposed to be there. Chances are it corresponds with the surrounding water table.”
Penn was secretly pleased to have his own hypothesis confirmed. “Maybe a public gathering place of some sort?”
“Possibly,” Honcho said, “That would explain it's size. But there's no way to be sure. Maybe they liked big bedrooms.”
“So what's next?” Marla asked.
“I think it's time to consult our friend Dr. Chin. Why should he lounge around while we do all the work?”
Two hours, and numerous trips to the surface later, the area was flooded with light. Chin was sitting at a makeshift table heaped with electronics. The tiny comp screen washed Chin's face with green as agile fingers tapped out a quick rhythm on the keyboard. Multicolored wires snaked their way across the floor to climb the wall and disappear over the top. Chin had circled the wall dropping a variety of instruments into the water like a fisherman with more than one line.
Meanwhile, Marla and the marines had explored the rest of the floor. They found three staircases. Two led downwards and were blocked by water or cave-ins. The third also led downwards but ended in a tunnel. Common sense, plus a trail of blood and droppings, indicated this was the escape route used by their six-legged attackers. Two marines were posted at the entrance, and lights were placed fifty feet down the tunnel so they could see anything which approached.
Marla and the marines also found a whole row of flooded shafts. She thought they were some sort of lift tubes or elevators, but Honcho simply shrugged, saying it was too early to tell. He pointed out they could also be garbage chutes, ventilators, or ceremonial pathways to planetary gods. Marla agreed politely, but thought Honcho was making the whole thing too complicated. After all, why would anyone with sufficient technology to build tall buildings, run up and down the stairs? She felt sure Honcho would come up with all sorts of reasons, but didn't want to hear them.
“Well folks, here's everything you ever wanted to know about what's down there,” Chin said modestly. They all gathered around to look at the print-out which Chin's equipment had produced. Peering between Honcho and Jumo, Renn saw a grid on which there were large expanses of blue cross-hatching, and blobs of white. “For the un
initiated,” Chin said, “the white blobs are objects with sufficient density to bounce a signal off, and the shaded areas represent open space.”
Renn was struck by the fact that the white blobs, or solid objects, were symmetrically arranged towards the center of the room. In fact, if the atrium weren't flooded, and he looked over the wall, he'd be looking straight down at them. All of which suggested that the balcony, and the open space around the objects, was intended for viewing. Evidently Honcho agreed, because he said, “From the looks of it, those white blobs in the center of the next floor down were pretty important. One gets the feeling that the builders liked to stand around and look at them. Anyone feel like taking a dip? I'd volunteer, but I'm not really built for it.”
A lively discussion ensued. Jumo felt that one of his marines should make the dive, but Renn objected, pointing out that the marines were stretched thin guarding Fred, the camp, the entry point to the ruins, plus the underground tunnel which the monsters used. Marla and Honcho weren't built for the task, Chin was too valuable, and Jumo should be available to lead his marines. Furthermore, Renn argued, he'd done quite a bit of diving on Terra, and could anyone else say the same?
Jumo finally gave in, the expedition's single set of diving gear was brought from camp, and Renn made ready for his dive. Ready, but not eager. The water had a dark ominous look. Doing his best to ignore the water, and all that its flat reflective surface might conceal, he gave his gear one last check.
The face mask-light combination seemed to fit fairly well though he wouldn't know for sure until he got into the water. The rebreather unit on his back fed him rubber flavored air like it was supposed to, the weight belt around his waist felt just about right, and his swim fins were a size too small, but better than nothing. His only weapon was a force blade strapped to his right thigh. They'd forgotten to bring a spear gun. Well, hopefully he wouldn't need it. So far there were no signs of life on any of Chin's electronic sensors. There were two lines fastened to his harness, one in case of trouble, and the other for any interesting artifacts he might run into along the way.
As Renn climbed to the top of the wall and prepared to enter the water, Marla prowled restlessly back and forth along the edge of darkness. She didn't like this one bit. In her opinion it was a job for the marines, but she didn't dare say so, especially since Renn might resent her interference. So she swore silently to herself and hoped it would be over quickly.
“Remember ... three tugs on either line and we'll pull you up, pronto,” Jumo said sternly.
Renn nodded, grasped the mouthpiece firmly between his teeth, and jumped feet first. It was a long drop and he hit with a tremendous splash. The water was shockingly cold. As he sank towards the bottom Renn noticed the pool was surprisingly clear. A million tiny bits of mineral matter reflected his light back at him, but except for those, the water seemed very clean. Good. He'd expected the murky, sediment-laden stuff of the swamp, and this would make the job a lot easier.
Rolling forward he pulled his arms in and kicked towards the bottom. The water was damned cold, and the two lines were an annoying encumbrance, but otherwise it was almost fun. He'd always enjoyed diving, the sensual flow of water across his skin, and the tiny bit of danger that always went with it. But here the potential danger outweighed the pleasure and put him on edge. Renn did his best to keep a good look-out, but outside of the mineral motes and the darkness beyond, there was nothing to see. Then the floor suddenly rose to meet him. Its surface was covered with a softly undulating carpet of whitish sediment which billowed up and around him as the tip of one fin scraped along the top of it.
The objects should be somewhere to the right. Turning, he kicked towards the center of the large room. His light glided over the sediment. Wait ... what the hell was that? Something had broken the perfect symmetry of the floor. He executed a tight turn and went back, moving slowly this time, so he wouldn't miss whatever it was. There ... At his touch the sediment seemed to leap off the object as if happy to get away. It swirled for a moment, glittering in the light, and then drifted away to reveal a triangular skull. A few wispy bits of flesh and skin still clung to white bone.
Renn felt something heavy drop into his stomach, and whirled through a 360-degree turn, almost tangling his lines. Judging from the skull, the dead thing had been fairly large, which meant that whatever killed it was even larger, and might see him as a fitting dessert. But there was nothing to see. Just glittering motes which danced before his eyes. Clenching the rubber mouthpiece between his teeth, Renn turned and kicked towards the center of the room. A tiny trickle of water had found its way into his mask and was collecting at the bottom. Suddenly he wanted to finish the dive as soon as possible.
Moments later, something loomed large in front of him. An artifact. It had no discernible shape, was about half his size, and thickly covered with white sediment. Only the surface layer floated away at his touch. The rest formed a solid crust inches thick. He saw something from the corner of his eye and whirled, reaching for the force blade. He felt foolish. Just another artifact. Swimming right he found three more. Then, circling around behind those, he found four more standing back to back with the first row. He couldn't tell what the objects were, but knew they were different from each other. For example, the one right in front of him was more horizontal than vertical. It stood on three short pedestals.
He approached the artifact and put both his hands underneath it, bent his knees, and lifted. Nothing. Backing off he pulled his force blade and flicked it on. It vibrated slightly in his hand. Kicking down towards the base of the artifact he used the force blade to attack the sediment. The blade seemed to vibrate more as it cut into the encrusted material. A cloud of sediment rose to surround him. Renn completed the cut by feel and turned off the force blade. The sediment was already starting to settle as he slipped the blade into its sheath. Placing his arms under the artifact, Renn flexed his knees, and tried again. For a moment nothing happened. Then the artifact broke free, jerking upwards a bit before falling back. Good. The thing was heavy, but not too heavy to lift.
Pulling down some more line, he tied it around the object, checked his knots, and jerked on his lifeline three times. The response was instantaneous. He shot upwards like a rocket.
Meanwhile, hundreds of feet away, something long and sinuous completed its journey through underwater tunnels, and slid into the cool water of the pool. The water tasted like home. Though completely blind, the thing had other senses, including a keen sense of taste and the ability to detect even the smallest vibration in the surrounding water. It paused. Something was moving where all should be still. Though not very intelligent, the thing was nonetheless cautious, for there were other even more dangerous denizens of the deep roaming Swamp. But the source of this disturbance was too small, too puny to be one of those, and must therefore fall into the other category. Food.
With a powerful sideways swish of its body, the thing slid upwards through the water, mouth open to expose razor sharp backward curving teeth. The day's hunt hadn't gone well. It was hungry.
Not knowing if Renn was in trouble or not, everyone grabbed into his lifeline, and pulled with all their might. As yard after yard of dripping line came over wall, Marla ran this way and that, desperately wishing she could help. Even Chin left his equipment to lend a hand. If he hadn't, maybe he'd have seen the long white shape arrowing up across his tiny comp screen. But he was pulling on the line instead and cheering with the others when Renn burst up through the surface of the water. Seconds later he was hauled dripping over the side. As Renn removed his face mask and mouth piece they bombarded him with questions. Was he OK? What was it like down there? Should they haul in the other line?
So no one saw the long coil break the surface of the water and dive from sight. The thing was puzzled. Somehow the food had escaped its grasp. But such things had happened before. The solution was patience. If one waited long enough, food that disappeared upwards often returned. Having completed its long dive, the th
ing allowed itself to sink into the upper layer of sediment. Billions of tiny particles exploded upwards, and then one by one, drifted gently down to cover the thing with a soft blanket of white.
The excitement was almost palpable as Jumo and Chin rigged the collapsible A-frame. As they worked, Honcho was everywhere, getting in the way, and providing a running commentary on their efforts. Once the frame was assembled, Jumo produced a blast rifle, dialed a narrow beam, and drilled a series of holes in the floor. Renn watched as the holes in the A-frame's base plate were lined up with the holes in the floor, bolts were inserted and then melted into place. Now the A-frame was ready to go. Metal squealed on metal as the structure was swiveled out and over the water.
“All right slaves,” Honcho said happily, “let's see what sort of fish Jonathan has hooked!” As Renn toweled off, Jumo and Chin fed the line through the pulley at the top of the A-frame, and Honcho waddled back and forth in excitement.
“Grab on,” Jumo instructed, and everyone did. Even Marla got into the act, grabbing the far end of the line with her teeth, and backing up. The pulley squeaked under the strain, but inch by inch, foot by foot, great loops of dripping line piled up at their feet.
Far below the artifact broke contact with the floor, and swayed slightly, giving off a small avalanche of sediment. Then it began to jerk its way upwards. Stirring at first, then sensing that the movement had nothing to do with food, the thing returned to its state of patient watchfulness.
Up above they all gave one last heave on the line and the artifact broke the surface. Honcho's feathers went every which way as he jumped up and down with excitement, reminding Renn of an antique feather duster. A feather duster with a loud voice. “All the way slaves! Take it all the way!”
Pulling in concert they hauled the object up and out of the water until it swung just below the apex of the A-frame. “All right Honcho,” Jumo grunted, “lock the line.”
Prison Planet Page 17
