Part 7 (1/2)
But Ali had picked up the stone Dane had brought from the wrecked crawler. He turned it around, studying it.
”Trewsworld is strictly an Ag planet, isn't it? Agriculture the only occupation?”
”That's been its rating.”
”But dead prospectors in the bush, with a lock bin broken open? Where was this exactly?” Ali shot that question abruptly at Dane.
”Caught in under the melted door. I thought someone had swept out the contents in a big hurry and overlooked this sliver when it wedged fast.”
Rip looked over Ali's shoulder at the stone. ”Looks like ordinary rock to me.”
”Ah, but you aren't a mineralogist, nor are any of us.” Ali weighed the rock in his hand. ”I have a distinct feeling that somehow an answer to all of this is hovering right under our noses, but we are just a little too dense to grasp its importance.”
He was still holding the rock when the hatch creaked open and Meshler was again with them.
”You”-he pointed to Shannon-”stay here. There will be a guard s.h.i.+p from the port to pick you up. And you, also.” This time his pointing finger singled out Ali. ”But you and you, and this-this creature you say can sniff out the dragons of yours-will come with me. We take the flitter and pick up those things and do it quickly!”
For a moment it seemed that Shannon and Kamil might protest, but Dane saw them look to Tau, and though there was no change of expression on the medic's face, Dane believed they had received some message not to interfere with Meshler's arrangements.
For the second time Dane fitted the brach into the pack, the alien making no protest, as if he had been able to follow their conversation and knew the purpose of this second expedition. And neither did the ranger demand Dane turn over his stunner before they went out to the flitter.
”We go first to Cartl's,” Meshler announced in his authoritative voice. He motioned Dane to the side seat by his own at the controls, the Terran settling the brach's pack on his lap, while Tau had one of the rear seats.
Whatever else he might be, the ranger was an expert pilot. Perhaps flitter flight was the normal travel for one representing the law in this wide territory. He brought them up effortlessly, swung the nose of the craft to the southeast, and pushed the speed to high.
It seemed only seconds until they flashed over the river. Then there were billows of the fat-leaved trees under them again, almost as if the forest were another kind of water. The brach sat quietly on Dane's lap, its head thrust well out of the coverings. The cabin was warm enough so none of them pulled up their hoods, and as that horned nose swung back and forth a little, Dane could almost believe that it quested for some scent.
Suddenly it pointed to the right, more to the westward than their present line of flight. The brach's voice echoed thinly in the mike of Dane's hood.
”Dragons, there-”
Meshler, startled, turned his attention from the controls. The brach's nose continued to point as if registering to some signal.
”How do you know?” the ranger demanded.
Dane repeated his question for translation.
”Dragons hungry, follow meat-”
Hunting! Well, hunger certainly had an emotional side, and it could be very sharp in a feral creature. But Meshler did the flying. Would he allow them to be hunters in turn, or would he insist upon keeping to his original course? Before Dane could urge the hunt on him, the ranger turned, and the brach's nose, as if it were indeed an indicator geared to the controls, now pointed directly ahead.
”Holding,” Meshler informed them. Scattered among the stumps were odd enclosures of poles, not set tightly together to form fences but placed at even distances, apparently to support rungs or rails. And in the light of the afternoon, they could see that most of those had a living burden which pushed, jostled, and shot out long necks to peck at companions crowding too close. Lathsmers!
”They let them run loose-no guards?” wondered Dane, remembering the antline-and perhaps Trewsworld had native predators, too.
Meshler made a sound that might pa.s.s for a laugh.
”They have their own defenses. Now even a man comes in such fields without a stunner. Though if you go in in a crawler and take it slow, they don't seem to notice. There aren't many things big or tough enough to take on a covey of lathsmers.”
The brach on Dane's lap screeched, not any intelligible word, as they flew on, out over a battlefield where a b.l.o.o.d.y melee was still in progress.
The roosting rails of the lathsmers at this point were fewer than in the first field, and they were clear of the birds. There were some battered bodies ripped and limp on the ground. But two of the rightful inhabitants of the roost were still on their feet, shooting out heads, naked of feathers, murderous beaks spear-pointed at their enemies.
Those were-Dane could not at first believe what his eyes reported. The embryos that had hatched had been then about the size of the female brach. These things were a little larger than the lathsmers. Their quick attacks, feints, use of talons, las.h.i.+ng tails, battering wings on which they could raise high enough to threaten the lathsmers from above, could have all belonged to adults fully matured and seasoned by many such forays.
”They-they've grown!” His amazement made him state the obvious. He still could not believe that a single day or two days could have produced such alteration.
”Those your dragons? And you expect me to believe them just decanted?” Meshler was incredulous, as well he might be. But they were the same things Rip, Ali, and Dane had installed in the cage-in miniature then.
”They are.”
Meshler brought the flitter around, for they had swept well over the site of the savage struggle. They swooped down. Dane believed the ranger was trying to frighten the dragons away from the remaining lathsmers. He had his own stunner ready. They would have to come within closer range before he could use it. Meshler fumbled with one hand in the front of his tunic. Now he held out to Dane an egg-shaped ball.
”Push in the top pin,” he ordered. ”Drop it as close to them as you can when we go over again.”
Once more they had skimmed away from the battle. Dane opened the window to his right, moving the brach down between his knees for safekeeping, and leaned out ready to drop the ovoid.
Meshler was taking them even closer to the ground on his third pa.s.s. Dane only hoped he could judge distance. His thumb sent the plunger even with the surface of the ball, and he let it go. The ranger must have gunned the flitter, for their forward sweep was at such a sudden excess of speed as to pin Dane against the seat, but as they went, the speed decreased, and when the craft turned once more, they had fallen to a landing rate.
Landing here among the stumps on rough terrain where brush had been grubbed out without regard for smoothing was going to take maneuvering. They headed once more for the broken roost. But now around those splintered poles curled greenish vapor, which whirled before it broke into thin wisps and rose up and up to disappear well above the height at which they now flew.
Of the creatures that had, only moments earlier, been engaged in ruthless war, there was nothing to be seen, unless they had joined the bodies on the ground. Meshler set down in the only possible open s.p.a.ce, still some distance from the raided roost.
Dane left the brach in the flitter, running with Meshler and Tau toward the scene of the struggle. If the dragons had come originally to hunt for food, perhaps the resistance of the lathsmers had sealed the fate of the whole covey. Or else it was not mere wanton killing on the dragons' part but defense against the fighting prowess of creatures they had underestimated.
The dragons and the last two of the lathsmers were lying as they had fallen, but they were not dead. The discharge of the vapor had had much the same effect as that of a stunner beam. Meshler stood over the mutants, studying them.
”You say these are the ancestors of the lathsmers?” He sounded unconvinced, and had Dane not seen them crawl from the embryo containers, he would have been as hard to satisfy.
”Unless they were s.h.i.+pped wrongly,” Tau commented. ”But I think you can forget that. These were snoop-rayed at the port of Xecho-routine-but the field experts don't miss anything.”
Meshler stooped, lifted the edge of a wing, which was ribbed with rubbery skin spreading between the ribs, then allowed it to fall back against the scaled body, where snorting breaths expanded and contracted wrinkled, repulsive skin.
”If your trick box can do this-”
”Not our box,” Dane corrected. ”And remember the antline-that box is probably not the first of its kind.”
”Report!” Meshler spoke as if to himself. ”Now-” He brought a tangler from his belt, a weapon meant to render any prisoner completely immobile. He used it with expert care, leaving each of the dragons well encased, limbs, tail, wings, and cruelly toothed jaws.
They dragged them back to the flitter, loading them into the cargo section. Meshler shook his head over the remains of the lathsmers. The two who had fought to the last, he thought would survive. But the rest were dead. To report this to the unfortunate owner must be their next move.
”He'll claim damages,” Meshler commented with satisfaction. ”And if he wants to swear land-hurt against you all-”
Dane did not know what land-hurt might be, but from the ranger's tone it was more trouble for the Queen.
”Not our doing,” Tau answered.