Part 32 (1/2)

We poked our lamps through each of the doorways in turn. Two opened into identical chambers. The third brought us into a pa.s.sageway that led to the rear of the building. We took a quick look at the adjoining rooms, decided there was nothing of immediate interest, and exited into the corridor.

There were more doorways. We pa.s.sed through one, found the remnants of plumbing fixtures, some basins, and a couple of toilets. The wall was broken through at that point, and snow had blown in and covered everything.

There were three other rooms off the pa.s.sageway, all with collapsed furniture and a.s.sorted debris that might have been beds at one time. Alex was uncharacteristically quiet. At one point we approached a table that was, incredibly, still standing. It supported another corroded object. A recorder, possibly. Or an AI. Or the equivalent of a coffee machine. Who knew? I heard him take a long breath. Then he put his foot against one of the table legs. And shoved. It collapsed, dumping the object onto the floor.

”You all right?” I asked.

”Yeah,” he said, he said, ”I'm fine.” ”I'm fine.”

The reality about collectors is that they are never interested in anything that's not in mint condition. You could be selling the dagger used by Anna Quatieri to finish off her maniac husband, and if it has a spot of rust, the price goes through the floor. People want items they can put on display, that look good in the living room.

We spent close to two hours in that place. And we learned next to nothing about whoever had occupied the polygon. Maybe experts would have been able to figure out what the equipment did. But all we could make out was that the s.p.a.ce had contained furniture and that there had been a washroom available. There might have been operational areas and a maintenance section at ground level. And maybe a vehicle or two. Maybe a plaque to tell us who had been there. But it was all buried.

”They were visitors,” Alex said. Alex said.

”I think you're right. They established a base, stayed awhile, put a satellite in orbit, and went home.”

”Echo III,” said Alex. said Alex.

He opened a channel to Gabe, the lander AI. ”Have we found any more polygons anywhere? Any kind of structures at all?” ”Have we found any more polygons anywhere? Any kind of structures at all?”

”Negative,” he said. he said.

”Nothing?”

”Nothing unusual, Alex. Although scanning a planet takes time. I a.s.sume there's more here somewhere.”

We took pictures. Lots of pictures. We were in back, debating whether we wanted to try fas.h.i.+oning some spades to see if we could dig our way down one floor, when Gabe called back: ”Alex, you have visitors.” ”Alex, you have visitors.”

My hair stood up.

Gabe flashed us a picture. Of the lander cabin. Of the lander cabin. An apelike creature with white fur was approaching the pilot's seat. It was small, would have come to about my belt. It was also loud. It let out a wail and pulled on the back of the chair. An apelike creature with white fur was approaching the pilot's seat. It was small, would have come to about my belt. It was also loud. It let out a wail and pulled on the back of the chair.

”How'd it get in?” I asked.

”It just walked into the airlock and must have pushed the pad.” That would have closed the outer hatch, the air would have drained and been replaced by the s.h.i.+p's air supply. Then the inner hatch would have opened. That would have closed the outer hatch, the air would have drained and been replaced by the s.h.i.+p's air supply. Then the inner hatch would have opened.

I was surprised it had survived the decompression.

Alex was already moving back toward the window we had come through. I followed.

”Gabe,” I said. ”Open the airlock. Both hatches.”

”Chase, you know the system's not designed for that.”

”Override it. Do what you have to.”

”There may be toxic organisms.”

”We can flush it later. Just do it, Gabe.”

We hurried along the pa.s.sageway, entered the main room, and made for the exit.

”Chase.”

”Yes, Gabe?”

”It's not working. I can't open the hatches.”

”Why not?”

”I'm not getting a response from the activator. The animal probably broke something on the way in. You'll have to open it manually to get him out.”

”Okay. We'll be there in a minute.”

”Stop where you are.”

”Why?”

”There's another one outside. A big one.”

It was indeed. ”My G.o.d,” ”My G.o.d,” Alex said. Alex said.

It was a knuckle-dragging monster. Fangs, enormous shoulders, long, muscular arms, and an expression that looked distinctly unhappy. Like the small one, the thing was covered with white fur. A ridge ran across the center of its skull, front to back. The creature was standing near the hatch, which was now closed. It snarled and screeched and pounded on the hull. It stomped around in circles, glaring at the lander. It yanked down a tree branch and rammed it against the hatch.

”The one inside,” I said. ”It must be a cub.”

Alex unholstered his scrambler. ”We're going to have to shoot the thing.” ”We're going to have to shoot the thing.”

”I guess.”

Alex set it for disable. And aimed.

TWENTY-NINE.

Confront an eagle, challenge a dragon if you will. Even, perhaps, take your chances with a killer whale. Just be careful, when you do, that you're facing a male, and not an outraged mother.

-Stellar Kamarides, Marching Orders He pulled the trigger. The thing screeched, raised two claws, and pounded the earth. It looked around, picked up a rock, and hurled it against the hull. It did everything except except freeze. freeze.

Alex reluctantly reset. For lethal lethal.

”You can do that,” I said, ”but if it works, we'll have to kill the cub, too.”

He looked at me. ”You have a better suggestion?” ”You have a better suggestion?”

”Not really.”