Lt. Leary, Commanding (35 page)

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Authors: David Drake

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"If them buckets lift in twelve hours, they'll all three of 'em lose antennas before we make Strymon," Woetjans said. "They arrived here in crappy shape, and they don't have the crews to make things right even in the three days Pettin allowed at the start."

"He's playing games," Taley agreed, looking even more than usually as if she were following a coffin. "I wouldn't want to be the
Winckelmann
's machinist, I can tell you that."

"Yeah, but how about us?" Pasternak said. "Can we find the captain in twelve hours? It's six just to fly to where he was supposed to be, right?"

"Officer Mundy has a plan to get information from the Captal da Lund," Mon said, his hands laced together so tightly that the fingertips raised white halos against the tanned backs. "We're going to do whatever it takes to execute that plan."

His face was savage. "
Whatever
it takes," he repeated, but his voice had sunk to a growl.

"All right," said Adele. Her wands twitched, expanding an image to full-display size. "Here's a set of the builders' plans for the Captal's dwelling. You'll note . . ."

* * *

The rattle of pebbles in empty ration cans wasn't loud thirty feet away from the tent, but it was so different from the wind's keening overhead that even before Hogg gripped his shoulder Daniel had awakened in a rush. He sat upright and slapped on the commo helmet, saying, "Unit, I'm going to look for an animal with Hogg. Nobody else leave the camp till summoned. Captain out."

"
Unit, don't get fucking trigger happy, it's me and the master out there in the woods!
" Hogg rasped. His helmet would continue to broadcast on the unit push because he hadn't closed the transmission. That was actually a good idea to keep the crew informed of what was going on. It was simply sloppy procedure on Hogg's part, of course.

Daniel had slept in his boots, but he paused to slide the closures tight before stepping out of the warmth of the tent behind Hogg. Barnes rose onto one elbow; he'd be outside as soon as Daniel's eyes were off him, joining his friend Dasi on guard.

It was the guards, Dasi and Sentino, that Daniel had been warning; the other spacers remained asleep. Spacers on a long voyage learned to sleep through any amount of racket and crowding, unless it was their name or their watch that had been called.

Daniel dialed his visor's light enhancement up to daylight normal as he crawled along after Hogg. Sentino squatted near the head of the track, her impeller pointed up at a 45-degree angle to show that it didn't threaten anybody. She lifted her left index finger to acknowledge Daniel; he nodded as he passed her.

The creature in the trap ahead of them was screaming. The sound was high-pitched and as loud as a saw cutting stone. It almost completely drowned the rattling of the cans tied to the snare.

The track curved around a bush whose branches dropped runners to the ground, completely blocking Daniel's view of the camp—and vice versa. When he was out of Sentino's sight, he drew his knife.

Hogg thrust the shovel into the base of a shrub with ghostly white stems, then lifted it with a twist of deceptively strong wrists. He flung the clump out of the way so that Daniel could squat beside him. Nobody whom Hogg had spanked would mistake him for a soft fellow beyond the curve of middle age.

Hogg had set his double noose snare over the mouth of the hole plugged by the sandstone block. The eighty-pound creature which had tripped the triggers now hung in the air, flailing in the grip of the pair of springy branches Hogg had used to tension the trap.

It was white and hairless except for bushes of red-gold hair in its armpits. It had four broad, stubby limbs and a neck so thick and powerfully muscled that the nooses which should have choked the creature unconscious by now merely served to suspend it. It gripped the right-hand tether with blunt claws, jangling the rattles Hogg had attached to the rig to warn him when he'd made a catch.

"By
God
," Hogg muttered, easing closer and cocking the shovel back for a thrust. Its broad blade would let the creature's life out faster than an explosive bullet. "That little bastard's
untying
the damn knots."

"Wait," said Daniel. He put his hand on Hogg's right shoulder, emphasizing the warning. "Don't. We don't need food."

The creature's screams had turned to mewls as Hogg and Daniel came into sight. Its eyes were large and round, set in circuits of bone. When it closed them in terror, sheets of muscle rather than thin skin covered the orbs.

The noose gave way: untied from the springy branch, just as Hogg had said. The remaining noose flicked the creature sideways like the popper of a whip. From behind it looked like a grub worm, ugly beyond easy description. Daniel might have underestimated its weight because there was no hair to bulk up its form.

Hogg swore softly. The creature squirmed both forepaws under the bark cord and tugged outward. Interrogatory chirps were coming from the burrow; Daniel could see fairy lights deep within the ground.

"
Master
," Hogg said, poising the shovel again.

"No!" said Daniel.

The tensioned branch sprang back. In a reciprocal motion, the creature leaped for the opening and vanished within as smoothly as water swirling down a hole.

Hogg was breathing hard. He kept the shovel pointed at the burrow even after the sandstone plug thudded into the opening and was wedged into place with a series of clacks muted by the surrounding bank.

"Did you see its face?" Hogg said. "When it jumped, it looked at us. Did you see?"

"Yes," said Daniel. "I did. Let's get some sleep. We've got a long way to walk tomorrow."

He turned and started back for the tent. He was panting too, though he hadn't been exerting himself.

"Christ, master, it looked
human
," Hogg said.

"Yes," said Daniel. "It did. Let's get some sleep."

 

CHAPTER EIGHTEEN

H
ogg put his hand on Daniel's shoulder, pointed to the
ravine ahead of them, and said, "Not a bad place to take a break, master."

Daniel glanced toward the back of the line where Sun, as senior petty officer, should be marching to chivy in stragglers. He was there, all right, but little Vesey was guiding him along. Barnes walked alongside, carrying Sun's pack as well as his own.

Which Hogg had already noticed. "Unit, fall out in the ravine!" Daniel ordered. "Ten minute break! Captain out."

The spacers were tired, but they broke into a jog and grinned as they passed Daniel and Hogg. Dasi took Sun's left arm and helped Vesey move the gunner's mate into a trot also. Sun's legs moved when prodded, but his eyes had no life in them.

"We're going to be carrying him by the end of the day," Hogg murmured. "Fuck me if we're not."

Daniel looked at his rotund servant. "Yes," he said. "Maybe we'd better look for suitable poles here, just in case. We can use the ground cloth for a bed."

He followed Hogg down the bank, which sloped because wind had recently undercut the lip and dumped it as a scree of pebbles and adobe clay onto the base of the ravine. Midway he paused to survey the bank to either side, then went the rest of the way down. The crew had already chopped a small clearing in the brush so that they didn't have to hunch under arched branches.

Sentino sloshed water from the last of their three jerricans into a cup. The osmotic pump they'd set in the underground aquifer overnight had made up the seven or eight gallons they'd drunk from the original supply, but by mid-afternoon of this second day the spacers marching in dry air had absorbed ten gallons.

Sentino held the cup out to Daniel. "Here you go, sir," she said. "You get the cherry."

Rather than argue that he'd wait his turn—and besides, he was thirsty—Daniel took the cup and had it almost to his lips when the smell hit him. If he'd been out in the wind, he might have swallowed down most of the cup unawares, which would have been a great deal worse than going thirsty.

"Stop!" he said. "The water's contaminated. We'll have to discard the container, I'm afraid, because we don't have a means of cleaning it here."

Sun pushed Sentino aside and put his nose to the jerrican's wide mouth. He rose with a look of white rage. "God
damn
Pettin's shit-eating chicken-fucking whoreson excuses for spacers!" he shouted. His near stupor of moments before had passed. "And God damn me for accepting the cans without checking them!"

He picked up the jerrican by one of the paired handles on top and slung it a good twenty feet into the bushes. That was a remarkable throw for five gallons of water with the weight of the container.

"We got the jerricans from the
Winckelmann
, sir," Barnes explained softly. He and Dasi looked as miserable as Sun was angry. "The
Sissie
didn't have anything suitable, but the cruiser's outfitted for ground operations so we figured . . ."

"Traded them a bottle of brandy," Dasi said. Stolen from Delos Vaughn's baggage, no doubt. "It wasn't Mr. Sun's fault, sir, it was me and Barnes did it. And we didn't check the cans."

One of which had been used for some petroleum product, probably extra kerosine for the fuel cells of the
Winckelmann
's big aircar; and hadn't been properly cleaned afterwards. Nobody on the
Princess Cecile
had noticed the smell before filling the container with water. They'd been in a hurry, of course.

"I think we can blame Commodore Pettin for the difficulty," Daniel said mildly. "Though such a trivial business doesn't seem worthy of an officer of the commodore's demonstrated ability. Vesey, take two men and get the pump working."

"Sir, the flow back where we camped was only a gallon an hour," the midshipman said. "And that was in the rivercourse proper."

"Yes," Daniel said, "but I'm hopeful that we can find a more bountiful source in the meantime. Hogg, what do you think of the block of limestone right over . . ."

As Daniel spoke, he pushed his way along the edge of the ravine, to the right of the collapsed bank. For the first twenty feet it was merely a matter of muscling through twigs as dry as old bones. Just this side of the sandstone inclusion he'd seen as he entered the ravine grew a plant the size and shape of a wicker hassock. Its body consisted of strands curving up from the base to a central stem. A few had released their upper attachment and lay like whips on the ground.

"Ah," said Daniel. "Bring me one of the empty jerricans soonest."

The one filled with contaminated water would be even better, but Daniel didn't blame Sun for letting out his anger. Besides, the thing was done.

Dasi tossed an empty plastic container to Hogg, who passed it in turn to Daniel. "Everybody get down," Daniel said.

He squatted, judged the distance, and threw himself flat as he lobbed the jerrican. It landed in the center of the plant. There was a
whap-pap-pap
as all the remaining strands released simultaneously. The seeds at the ends of each, glass-hard and the size of marbles, flew forty feet in all directions. The can spun into the air, then dropped onto the ruins of the plant.

"A much better idea than bumping into it," Daniel said; preening himself on his observation, but doing it in so quiet a voice that not even Hogg could have heard him. He stepped past the plant to the rock plug.

"I think it's another burrow," Daniel said to his servant. "And I think there must be water inside, don't you? The creatures dig, and it wouldn't be any great trick to trench down into the aquifer so they could lap it up at need."

"Speaking of things I never needed to see again," Hogg muttered. Over his shoulder he called, "Get the shovels up here. The master and me are going after water."

Jeshonyk, a power room technician, brought the shovels. He stepped gingerly over the discharged bush, carefully avoiding putting his foot on any of the now-flaccid strands.

Daniel had seen Jeshonyk tighten a fitting under the Tokamak, working in the full knowledge that a slip wouldn't leave his mates so much as a pinch of ash to bury. He'd been wholly unconcerned by that risk, but the notion of a plant that shot bullets bothered him.
It's all a matter of what you're used to. . . .
 

Hogg handed Jeshonyk the impeller in exchange for shovels, then got to work with Daniel from opposite sides of the plug. Daniel could've passed the job off to one of the crewmen, but he probably had more experience with shovels than any of them did. It brought back memories of his boyhood, digging out Black-Scaled Rooters with Hogg.

You could lose your foot at the ankle from a rooter's teeth if you weren't quick. Daniel remembered
that
too.

He hit rock; he moved out a hand's breadth and put the blade in again, using all the strength of his upper body. This time it sank halfway and he stamped it fully in with the heel of his right boot.

He exchanged glances with Hogg, then both levered their shovels to the right and left in unison. A slab of dense clay fell away, baring a foot of the plug. It tapered to both ends and was wedged with smaller stones from within the burrow.

"I'll pull out the rock," Daniel said, thrusting the shovel into the ground beside him where it would be out of the way. "You be ready if anything decides to come out with it."

Hogg's lips pursed in consideration. "Right," he said. "Jeshonyk, I believe I'll take the gun back."

Daniel took the plug in both hands and wriggled it. The block weighed well over a hundred pounds, but nothing beyond its mass bound it into place from this side now that they'd dug the bank away.

Daniel drew back, gasping with controlled effort. Rotating his body he half lifted, half flung the plug into the brush behind him. As smoothly as if the same cam controlled him and his master, Hogg thrust the muzzle of the impeller into the hole—not to shoot, at least not instantly, but to physically prevent anything that tried to leap out.

Nothing did. The opening was lined with rock slabs. They weren't mortared into place, but they certainly weren't a natural occurrence. Distinct patches of light showed in the interior.

"Sir," said Sentino. She'd drawn her knife; with her left hand she unlatched her equipment belt and let it curl to the ground beside her. "I'll fit."

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