The Deathworms of Kratos [The Expendables 1]

by Richard Avery

  Chantana Le Gros shuddered. “Is it necessary for us to be sealed up while we are still on Earth?”

  “Yes, Madame Le Gros, it is. The medicos don’t like to use S.A. techniques in free fall if they can avoid it. Apart from the cost of taking all their equipment and personnel into space, there are technical problems.”

  “So we go to bye-byes on Earth and wake up—if we are lucky—on Kratos?” enquired Lou Andreas.

  “You will be taken out of S.A. before we touch down,” promised Conrad. “The resuscitation procedures take time. You’ll be as weak as a kitten when you come out of S.A. You have to get strong again before we hit Kratos.”

  “Madre de Dios,” observed Fidel Batista. “At least in S.A. my bum won’t hurt.”

  EVENT SEVEN Things That Go Bump in the Night

  Day eleven, Kratos time. Conrad noted the salient facts in his log. Kwango was operational once more. Still rather weak, but available for light duty. Which was a big help. While convalescent, he had kept up with the results of the analysis of bio-samples; and from the vast quantity of data supplied—yet still minute from an ecologist’s point of view—he was busy developing possible ecological scenarios. One of his more confident predictions was that substantial deposits of coal would eventually be discovered, as well as petroleum. If that turned out to be true, thought Conrad, the settlers on Kratos would have it made.

  A lot of work had been done in eleven days. Apart from robot help, Lou Andreas had, almost single-handed, assembled the components of three exo-skeletons and had given Liz James and Fidel Batista a crash-course in their basic use.

  The exo-skeletons had this much in common with robots: they were anthropomorphic machines, atomically powered. But, unlike the robots, they did not have independent control systems. The robots had their own “brains” and recourse to the master “brain” of Matthew. They were man-sized and they could accept human commands or function independently of man. The exo-skeletons were eight metres long from feet to control crown and, without a man or woman in the control harness, they were useless junk.

  But with skilled operators in harness, they were formidable. They could do the work of bulldozers, cranes, excavators. They could run across the countryside at 70 k.p.h., build roads, dig ditches, pluck up trees and, in effect, do anything that an eight-metre giant with the power of fifty men could do. The exo-skeletons, once the team had been trained to operate them efficiently, could be Conrad’s equivalent of a construction gang of three hundred men or an armoured assault commando, as he chose. They were, he thought, his ultimate weapon for the taming of Kratos.

  While Lou Andreas had been assembling the exo-skeletons, Conrad himself had been busy. He had assigned Matthew and Mark to rig the Santa Maria’s discharge derrick and swing one of the choppers and the armoured hovercar out of the vessel’s hold, through the now opened hatchway and down to ground. He had then assigned Lieutenant Smith to medium-range reconnaissance in the hovercar while he undertook aerial survey in the chopper.

  Indira Smith was instructed to explore an area within five kilometre’s radius of Base One. Conrad himself proposed to survey the terrain extending to a radius of twenty kilometres.

  Between them, they made many interesting discoveries. Indira found two streams and a river. Fish abounded. She took samples of the water and of the river life. Some of the fish proved to be edible, tasting like trout. But one small, harmless-looking fish—reminiscent of the Terran carp—turned out to be lethally poisonous. A mouthful would kill a human being within the hour. Lieutenant Smith also examined the nearest network of ruts. She found that they were almost one metre deep and two metres wide. They looked freshly made. The soil and clay were clearly exposed; and the plant life in the ruts was sparse and small.

  But it was Conrad who made the most enigmatic discovery. He found an artificial hill. At least, it looked like an artificial hill. It was perfectly circular, smoothly dome-shaped. But from the base, spiralling up to the apex, was one long, smooth, deep rut. In contrast to the rich profusions of trees, shrubs, ferns and grasses of the surrounding countryside, there was little vegetation on the hill’s surface—chiefly patches of short grass and what appeared to be lichen. The hill rose about nine hundred metres above its immediate environs. Conrad circled it several times at different altitudes, fascinated. He photographed it from all angles, increasing magnification systematically. The prints dropped out of the camera’s processing unit at the rate of one every ten seconds.

  Finally, he decided to touch down near the base of the hill. He cut the chopper’s engine and waited for silence. Then he picked up a laser rifle and climbed out of the plasti-glass control bubble. He felt the warm wind on his face, and it felt good. He stood still, listening, looking. He felt/heard a faint beating/throbbing. He felt it through the soles of his boots more than he heard it through his ears. It seemed to emanate from the hill. He looked at it closely, almost expecting it to pulsate. There was no visible movement, yet the beating/throbbing continued. It was as if the hill contained a monstrous and irregularly beating heart. He stood quite still, listening to and feeling the throb for several minutes. Then he got back into the chopper and lifted off.

  He circled the enigmatic hill once more, greatly troubled. The symmetry of the thing and the perfectly carved spiral rut indicated that it had been constructed —but by what kind of creature and for what purpose? On preliminary investigation, Kratos had seemed to be a world almost ideally suited for colonisation. But if it contained creatures capable of creating a dome nine hundred metres high, the problems of colonisation could be formidable. One thing seemed certain to Conrad: the structure could not have been created by a race of pygmies—not unless they had atomic energy. The thing was bigger—far bigger—than any of the pyramids of Egypt. The species that had constructed it must have tremendous power at their disposal. Which would make them dangerous adversaries of man.

  Presumably, these were the creatures which had made the ruts/roads/tracks/communication networks over much of the planet’s land area. If so, judging from the extent of their operations, it would be a long time before man could challenge their supremacy. Yet why had they not yet shown themselves? If they were intelligent creatures, surely they would have noted the arrival of the Santa Maria, and surely they would have tried to establish contact or, more probably, destroy the invaders?

  Conrad returned to Base One in a sombre mood. He was unimpressed by the fact that James and Batista, in their exo-skeletons, could now play ball with each other, throwing and catching rocks that weighed fifty kilos.

  “Why so glum, Commander?” enquired Lieutenant Smith. “The programme goes well, and you can have genuine Kratos trout for supper.”

  He thrust the photo prints into her hands. “Take a look at these goddamned things.”

  She looked, and took the implications in at a glance. “Trouble?”

  “Trouble. The jokers who put up that little edifice are either very massive creatures or they have great energy sources. Take your pick.”

  “I have taken my pick,” she said calmly. “They are massive creatures.”

  “I’ll tell you something else,” said Conrad. “The bloody hill is alive. I touched down at its base. And I felt and heard something that seemed like a fantastic and irregular heartbeat.”

  Lieutenant Smith raised an eyebrow, but she made no comment.

  “It was so powerful,” went on Conrad, “that I could feel it through the ground.”

  “Was there any opening anywhere?”

  He shrugged. “You’ve seen the prints.”

  “What about the base, or the nearby ground?”

  “There didn’t seem to be any opening round the base. I didn’t stay long enough for any more investigation.” He shrugged, then added drily, “I only had one laser rifle, and it didn’t seem a good idea to risk you having to assume command so soon.”

  “What next?”

  “We’ll have to investigate, of course. The planet looks damn near perfect for c
olonisation; but we can’t have any mysteries—at least not of this magnitude. We have to find out about the ruts and about the bloody dome, and assess the potential of hostile life-forms.”

  “Must alien life-forms necessarily be hostile to us?”

  “Survival of the fittest,” he said laconically. “Take it from me, that is a cosmic constant. Also, Lieutenant, something tells me that people who assume that alien life-forms are hostile live longer than those who don’t.”

  She smiled. “You are right. Two dozen Kratos trout didn’t have any opinion at all about alien life-form. I lasered them as they swam. How do you like yours, hot or cold?”

  “Save the funnies,” he snapped with some irritation. “There are six or seven hours of daylight left. During that time I want the perimeter defences strengthened. All hands—including me and the robots—are going to set up another perimeter fence three metres from this one, and three metres high. We’ll connect them both with criss-cross nylon rope, so that if anything does choose to ignore the voltage, it will probably strangle itself trying to get through. In the next few days, when more people can operate the exo-skeletons efficiently, we’ll use some of the local timber and construct a good old-fashioned stockade inside the perimeter.”

  “I didn’t know you were as worried as that,” she said.

  “Well, now you do. The robots can get cracking immediately while the rest of us grab something to eat.” He took a small transceiver out of the big thigh-pocket of his fatigue trousers. “Matthew, do you read me?”

  “I read you, sir.”

  Matthew was only about seventy metres away, inside the perimeter, drilling a small-bore well with a hypersonic lance. Seismic survey had revealed that there was” water about seventy-five metres below ground level. And since the water of Kratos was, according to analysis, just as good as the water of Terra, Conrad had thought it sensible to hook in to the local supply as soon as possible and thus reduce the load on the Santa Maria’s recycling system.

  “Priority decision, countermanding previous decisions. All robots will disengage from non-vital assignments. They will draw from stores sufficient tensile steel wire and support duralumin angle girders to erect a second perimeter fence three metres high and three metres beyond the first. The gateway will be parallel to gateway one and of the same proportions. Execute.”

  “Decision noted, sir. Execution proceeds.”

  “That means we have to get our own lunch,” said Indira lightly.

  “Yes,” said Conrad. “One of the sad hardships of planet-taming. Tell the others. They have thirty minutes to prepare, eat and digest. After that we see whether mere humans can lick the robots for speed and efficiency.”

  The second fence was up and hooked in to the generator before nightfall. Conrad was amazed. He hadn’t really thought it could be done. He was even more amazed when he saw Kurt Kwango hefting a thirty-kilo coil of nylon rope to the perimeter.

  “I thought you were only available for light duty, Kwango. That was the last report I got from Lieutenant Smith.”

  “Report cancelled, Massa Boss. Dis little old nigra fit for anything.”

  “Kurt, you are a stupid bastard.’*

  “It takes one to know one—sir.”

  Conrad laughed. He reflected that back on Terra he would probably have punished Kwango for insolence. But here on Kratos the notion of punishment for such a triviality seemed irrelevant. Besides, during Kwango’s convalescence, Conrad had got to know him pretty well. He thought he had begun to understand what made Kwango tick. He was afraid of himself. The history of violence revealed a deep insecurity. And because of that, Kwango, being a proud man, saw everything and everyone as a personal challenge.

  But there was something else—something in the way he had said the words that translated them into a declaration of friendship, or loyalty, or both.

  “You have the advantage, Kurt,” he said evenly. “You are a stupid black bastard, I am merely a stupid white one.”

  It was Kwango’s turn to laugh. “Excuse me, Commander. I got work to do. I got to help rig your mouse-trap so you can sleep safe at nights.” He swung the coil of nylon rope from one shoulder to the other and staggered to the perimeter. He was followed by one of the robots, John, effortlessly carrying three fifty-kilo coils of rope.

  After the outer perimeter fence had been completed, Conrad ordered four searchlights to be set up on perimeter quadrant points, each searchlight to swing regularly through one hundred and eighty degrees, the beams parallel with the surface of Kratos and one point five metres above ground level. Throughout the hours of darkness, one robot would monitor the screens on the nav deck while another, armed with a laser rifle, patrolled the perimeter. The robot on the screens was instructed to rouse Conrad only if the lights revealed any large animals in the vicinity. The robot on patrol was instructed to use his weapon only if the perimeter was in danger of being breached.

  When the evening meal was over, Conrad called a conference in the saloon of the Santa Maria. All the team was present. So was Matthew.

  “Sit down, Matthew,” said Conrad, gesturing to a vacant chair. “It makes me uncomfortable to see you standing.”

  “Sir, the saloon chairs are designed for human use. They may not support my weight, which is two hundred and seven point five kilos, Earth-G.”

  “Then sit on the deck, damn you.”

  “Decision noted. Execution proceeding. Query term *damn-you’.” Matthew’s voice was imperturbable.

  “Cancel term!” snapped Conrad. Matthew plonked himself down with all the grace of a dying elephant. The deck shook.

  Liz James giggled. “One of these days, when I feel like wrecking the joint, I’ll teach him how to dance the polka.”

  Conrad ignored her. “We have a problem. You all know what it is. So far, Kratos has obliged us by seeming to be a friendly planet. The animals, insects, birds, fish we have discovered have all been small and, with one or two exceptions, pretty harmless. But, as of now, the honeymoon period is over. You are already familiar with the network of ruts, and you have seen the shots I took of the artificial hill, itself covered by a spiral rut.

  My conclusion is that the ruts and the hill are the work of some creature, formidable in size and strength and maybe formidable in intelligence. Does anyone challenge that conclusion?”

  There was silence for a few moments. Then Liz James said: “I’m the biologist, so the ball seems to be in my court. I agree, Commander, that the evidence suggests the existence of some large creature. On Earth termites and ants can construct hills. True, they are not big compared to the one you found. But in relation to the size of the termites or ants, they are colossal monuments. On Kratos, despite some similarities between the indigenous life-forms and terrestrial life-forms, we cannot afford to rely on conventional criteria. I agree that your hill could have been raised by very large creatures; but it is also possible that relatively small life-forms—given sufficient numbers and a group programming—could have carried out the task.” She shrugged, then smiled. “I merely open the field for possibilities.”

  “Thank you, Liz,” said Conrad. “But what about the throbbing I felt when I stood near the hill.”

  “No comment,” said Liz. “I’m baffled.” Then she changed her mind. “But what if the hill contained a vast number of these creatures or insects, all doing the same thing—whatever it is—at the same time? That might produce the effect you experienced.”

  “Like a regiment of infantry marching over a bridge without breaking step?” enquired Conrad.

  “Something like that.”

  “Not on. I can’t tell you why it’s not on, but I know it. Also there are the ruts to consider.”

  Kwango flashed a broad smile. “May I make some contribution to the discussion?”

  “Go ahead, Kurt. We need ideas.”

  “First, may I point out that I have some slight advantage over the rest of you. I have lived in Africa. Not just the Africa of cities and super cities. The ol
d Africa. The Africa of forest and bush and desert. Shall I tell you, Commander, why you have seen no big game?”

  “Enjoy yourself, Kurt.” It was Fidel Batista speaking. “Reveal all. We have a high respect for your intelligence.” He stroked his buttock tenderly. “You are the man who jumped in with the sharks because he couldn’t make it with a girl.”

  There was general laughter.

  Kwango rose above it. “The reason is like now,” he announced calmly. “You make too much goddamn noise. Consider, first this tin can comes falling out of the sky with sonic booms, rockets roaring and whatever. Then the good Commander lets the robots play boy scouts, knocking poles in the ground and stringing up pretty wires. And if that wasn’t enough, he had them doing it all over again. We got a whining hovercar, a chopper that makes a sound like a house falling down, five half-ton robots square-dancing on command, and Lou teaching the children how to operate exo-skeletons and play ball with fifty-kilo rocks… Brothers and sisters, that is one hell of a lot of noise.”

  “Kurt, I believe you have a point,” said Conrad.

  “Sure as dammit, I have,” said Kwango. “I got several points. In my country even the stupid ones know that big game is more nervous than small game. I’m only surprised that, while I was taking my siesta, you managed to collect any bio-samples at all. They must have been so deaf or so crazed they didn’t care anymore. So, while you have been playing with wire and throwing rocks around and making enough noise to scare the shit out of any intelligent animals in the vicinity, the big creatures have pissed off, as de poet says, to fresh woods and pastures new.”

  “I’ll buy that,” said Conrad. “But what about my bloody hill?”

  “Commander, I was coming to that,” said Kwango in a pained voice. “While you people been running round the country-side and scaring the game away, I have been doing some thinking. About the ruts. Item, apart from where they, cross each other they do not have any angles. Item, careful analysis—my careful analysis—of the pix show that the ruts have a slightly but regular unevenness. Item, the concealed hole the robot fell down is exactly the same diameter as the ruts. Item, the Commander’s hill has a spiral rut running from apex to base. Item, no creature has yet been observed using or making the ruts. Item, this planet has no moon, therefore the nights are always pretty dark… Children, before I spring the big surprise, indulge my quaint humour. What has twenty-two yellow legs and two wings?”