Quofum (13 page)

“This holds ten rounds. Assuming it was fully loaded as usual, several are recorded as having been fired.” He stowed the recovered weapon in his backpack. “In camp we can access the weapon’s recorder to see what he was firing at.”

After fumbling through the dead man’s service belt, Tellenberg let out a puzzled sigh and stood. “There’s no communit. I’d sooner be stuck out here without a weapon than without a communit. This really makes no sense.”

“An active communit puts out a locator signal.” Haviti nodded in the direction of camp. “If Boylan was afraid of being tracked, he might have left his behind.”

“You mean, if Araza was after him?” N’kosi joined her in looking eastward. “If that’s the case, it didn’t do him any good.”

“We could find out all the answers,” Tellenberg put in, “if we could ask him.”

“Can’t ask him.” Haviti withdrew her own unit. “Can ask someone else who might have some answers.”

Tellenberg put a hand on her arm. “What if you’re right?” he murmured.

She met his gaze. “You mean about Boylan and Araza having a fight? Look, Esra—there are certain things we can do. We can stand here hypothesizing ’til the end of time, or we can move forward with this. The captain’s death may have a depressing but perfectly reasonable explanation. I grant you that murder might be one of them. But it’s only one among several. One way or another, under one set of conditions or another, we have to get back to camp. That means confronting Salvador—unless our initial suspicions were correct and this is somehow the work of one or more groups of natives or some as yet unknown predator. If that’s the case, then Araza will be even more anxious to hear from us than we are to talk to him.”

N’kosi swallowed. “And if there
was
some kind of altercation and Salvador followed Boylan out here and killed him?”

Her reply was as hard as her gaze. “Then we might be able to ascertain that by asking the right questions and analyzing Araza’s answers, which would be a hell of a lot better than walking right up to him and putting the matter to his face, don’t you think?”

They spent several minutes debating their options. As these were limited, the discussion was concluded fairly quickly. It was agreed that they should contact the technician via communit.

“You talk to him,” Tellenberg told her.

Haviti blinked. “Me? Why me? Why not you, or even Val?”

Despite the seriousness of the situation Tellenberg almost smiled. “When he replies he’ll be thinking of you. Somehow I think that’s likely to be more reassuring than if he’s thinking of me, or Mosi, or Val.”

“That’s not a very scientific rationale, Esra.”

It was definitely not the right place or time to smile. “No, Tiare, it’s not. But it’s realistic.”

She hesitated. Seeing that all three of her colleagues were in agreement, she shook her head once and addressed the communit, instructing it to alert Araza.

As it turned out it did not matter whether she was chosen to try to talk to him, or Tellenberg, or even Valnadireb. It did not matter because no matter what method she employed, whether verbal or via wholly electronic input, the expedition’s technician did not answer.

“Maybe something’s wrong with your unit,” Tellenberg suggested after several attempts at contact had failed.

She shook her head. “It shows full functionality. Still…” She extended a hand.

He lent her his device. The results were exactly the same.

“This isn’t good. Not good at all.” N’kosi had tried to reach Araza on his own unit. “I can’t even raise his emergency locator. At least the camp’s separate module beacons all respond.”

“Same here.” Haviti handed Tellenberg’s device back to him. “It suggests that his unit has been knocked out of action. Or turned off.”

“Why would he turn off his communit?”

“Maybe he doesn’t want to be located,” a somber-faced N’kosi ventured. “Or maybe he’s just not in a talkative mood.”

None of the possible explanations were pleasant to contemplate, Tellenberg knew, although it was encouraging that the individual camp beacons were functioning. At this point, any sign of normality was welcome.

“Could the spikers have attacked the camp, chased Boylan out here, and killed Araza?” N’kosi wondered. “How would they get through the perimeter?”

“That still wouldn’t explain the precision of Boylan’s injuries,” Haviti pointed out, “or how he came to be out here, this far away from camp, without his communit. Unless of course there’s still more to this world than we can envision, and we’re being stalked by something unimaginable. Until we have some answers we have to proceed with the utmost caution.” She took a deep breath. “But proceed we must. We can’t just stay here and wait for explanations to come to us.”

Tellenberg nodded agreement. “All right—we go back to camp. But carefully. We scope things out as best we can before trying to enter. Assuming we make it safely back inside the perimeter, we look for Salvador.” He caught Haviti staring at him. “At the same time we don’t reject any worst-case scenarios no matter how convivial any greeting we may receive.” He eyed the rest of his companions. “Tiare’s right. We can’t risk making or disregarding any assumptions until we get some answers.” Reaching down, he tapped the holster that was attached to his own service belt. “And we go in with weapons activated.”

“Activated—or activated and drawn?” Valnadireb’s compound eyes and feathery antennae were aimed in Tellenberg’s direction.

The xenologist looked at Haviti, who in turn eyed the thranx. “No,” she declared firmly. “I don’t think that’s a good idea. We don’t know Boylan’s state of mind before he died. By the same token, we don’t know what kind of pressure Araza may be under. I agree with Esra. We have to be ready to defend ourselves from anything—or anyone. But we don’t want to be unnecessarily provocative, either. We have no idea of the true nature of things.”

Tellenberg nodded agreement. “No matter what the circumstances we should be alright if we just keep our heads and act sensibly. Something bad has happened. We don’t know the cause but we’re going to find out. And if it should turn out that Araza is in some way responsible for this blanket silence from camp and for the captain’s death, well…” He met the gaze of each of his colleagues in turn. “We’re not military people, but we’ve all had to handle weapons in the field. We know how to shoot to defend ourselves. And there are four of us.” This time he slapped instead of tapped his belt holster.

“If it comes to it, four experienced field operatives should be able to handle one disturbed repair technician.”

9

There was no disagreement about leaving the body of the captain behind. Everyone was of the same mind that it was too heavy and that under the circumstances, given the uncertainty with which they were presently faced, it was a burden they could not safely manage. They could come back for it later, with a transporter, and bring it back to camp.

Besides, Tellenberg found himself thinking gravely as he followed N’kosi back toward the waiting boat, Boylan would not mind.

There was some discussion concerning the hard-won collection of specimens. “Look,” N’kosi told his colleagues, “if the captain was killed by natives, or by some as yet unknown local life-form, or if despite the illogic of it he actually did commit suicide, we’re going to feel awfully foolish if we come back here only to find that other natives or fauna have damaged or knocked overboard everything we’ve worked so hard to accumulate.”

“Maybe I’m wrong, Mosi,” Haviti retorted, “but right now I could care less about specimen preservation. Call my scientific dedication into question if you want, but the most important thing we have to do right now is try to find out what happened to Boylan—and what’s going on at the camp. Should the worst-case scenario you describe eventuate, we can always acquire more specimens.” She turned from him to Tellenberg and Valnadireb. “Our most pressing need is to find out why Araza’s not answering his communit.”

Tellenberg’s tone was apologetic. “Tiare’s right, Mosi. Nobody’d miss the collection we’ve put together over the last several days more than I, but that’s not really important right now.”

N’kosi turned to the sole nonhuman member of the expedition. “Val?”

“I must agree with Esra and Tiare. The specimens are all dead. Captain Boylan is dead. We, on the other hand, are still alive. Ensure the latter first, deal with the deceased afterward.”

“All right then.” But as they started off back toward camp along the crude trail they had hacked out of the alien forest several days earlier, N’kosi could not keep from casting more than one regretful glance back in the direction of the grounded boat and its unparalleled cargo of recently accumulated native life-forms.

While making their way through the forest they stayed on maximum alert, though for what they did not know. An attack by Quofumian aborigines, perhaps, or an assault by some previously unknown local predator. A growing unease gnawed at the back of everyone’s mind at the continued silence from the camp. Why wasn’t Araza answering? Even if he chose silence, his communit would keep advising him of the repeated attempts by his colleagues to make contact. There was still another possible explanation. He might be dead, too.

“If there was a fight,” Tellenberg murmured as he pushed aside a softly mewing knot of vines, “and Salvador killed Boylan, maybe the captain managed to shoot him. We know that Boylan got off three rounds. Maybe he wounded Salvador fatally.” He gestured over his shoulder. “Araza might be lying back there in the bushes just like the captain. Maybe we didn’t look hard enough.”

N’kosi glanced up at his friend. “We have to come back to the river for our specimens. If Salvador’s not in the camp, it would lend credence to that idea. Maybe we’ll find other indicators of what’s happened. Bloodstains, destruction of property.” He brightened. “The internal security system should have recorded any trouble.”

“Good thought, Mosi.” Having been raised on and lived most of his life on typically tropical thranx worlds, Valnadireb was more comfortable in their present surroundings than any of his human companions. “That’s the first thing we should do.”

It was such a good idea, in fact, that Tellenberg tried to access the camp’s security system via his communit. He failed, but felt it was worth the few minutes it took to make the effort. While a fair number of the camp’s systems could be remotely contacted and controlled, Security was not among them. Allowing remote access to Security would open that security to the possibility of being breached or otherwise compromised. Security that could be accessed externally was by definition no longer secure. Still, pondering the possibility gave him something to do. For a few moments it had the benefit of taking his mind off their present gloomy situation.

Soon they were approaching the main gate at the camp’s perimeter and there was no more time to waste on hopeful diversions.

From the edge of the forest fronting the barrier nothing appeared amiss. A quick check with a communit indicated that the defensive perimeter was active and fully charged. Beyond, the three completed modules and the entrance dome stood as the team had left them; undamaged and apparently otherwise untouched. Within the expansive cleared grounds enclosed by the perimeter fence, nothing moved.

Concealed in the undergrowth, Tellenberg leaned to his left and whispered to Haviti, “Try and raise Araza one more time.”

She proceeded to do so, both verbally and via a series of electronic signals. None of them produced any response. The xenologist considered her colleagues.

“He’s dead, his communit is broken, and he’s not near the central communications console; he’s alive but choosing not to respond; he’s alive but not near a working communit; he could be severely injured and unable to reply; or we’re simply overlooking something.”

“Too many possibilities.” Having drawn his sidearm in spite of his companions’ concerns, Valnadireb held the distinctively thranx weapon securely with his right foothand and truhand. “None of them fill me with hope. Let us proceed cautiously and be ready for anything—most especially that which we do not expect and cannot predict.”

The main gate, at least, responded immediately and welcomingly to their verbal request for admission. There was no solid barrier to push aside. The space between two designated relay posts simply deactivated. Despite the indicators on both having switched from red to green, Tellenberg still found himself stepping through the gap a touch more briskly than was necessary. He felt better once he and his friends were all safely inside the perimeter.

With the gate reactivated behind them they headed quickly for the front entrance. The doorway there responded as efficiently as had the perimeter gate. Inside the dome everything was as they remembered having left it. Like discarded skins, bio-hazard suits hung neatly on the main clothes rack off to the right. Supplies, some of them still half unpacked, filled storage shelves off to the left while sealed containers lay stacked on the floor where they had been unloaded. The absence of any indicators of violence was almost as disturbing as if they had found blood on the floor and damage to the interior.

The integrity of their individual quarters had not been violated. Even the dining area was unaffected, with the exception of one overturned chair that hardly constituted a significant disturbance. In their haste no one noticed the slightly blurred interior panel where part of one wall had automatically repaired itself.

Finding themselves in the galley area, they took a break from their inspection long enough to eat. Barely heated food was downed quickly, with no thought given to proper digestion. Everyone was still far too nervous and uneasy to relax, even at the dining table.

“What now?” N’kosi’s words filtered out around the edges of the sandwich that filled most of his mouth. He was swallowing without hardly bothering to chew.

“Security.” Haviti was seated next to him. “I suggest starting with the morning we left and running back all internal recordings first. If they don’t show anything we can move on to the tridee from the external pickups.”

“That may be premature.”

Both of them turned. Tellenberg looked across the table. Behind N’kosi and Haviti, Valnadireb was straddling his narrow bench. A truhand held food while a foothand clutched a spiral-spouted thranx drinking vessel. Another truhand was holding his communit. The xenologist was concentrating on the instrument and not his food.

“I thought that while I was eating I would set my unit to run an activity scan. It picked up a lot of the kind of noise I expected: autosystems cycling, security monitoring, water purification in progress, lights and other proximity-activated equipment going on and off in response to our presence. There is one set of readings, however, that demands more detailed scrutiny.”

Haviti put down her cup of kava derivative. “Where’s the activity? In the lab? Outside the perimeter?”

Slipping off his bench, Valnadireb set his unfinished food and drink aside. “Indications are that multiple systems are being cycled within the shuttle.”

There was a flurry of movement as the four scientists hurriedly finished or set aside the rest of their food. As they raced back toward the main entrance N’kosi suggested anew that they draw their weapons. Again he was voted down.

“Not a good idea. As Val said, premature.” Haviti turned a corner. “If it’s Salvador, and I can’t imagine that the shuttle is cycling the systems in question by itself, we don’t know what kind of shape he’s in. Physically
or
mentally. He could be injured, he could be panicky, he could be frightened.” She glanced over at Tellenberg.

“Besides, as Esra pointed out, there are four of us and only one of him. When we get there, let’s make sure we stay spread out. Not so much that it looks like a deliberate tactic, but enough so that if Salvador exhibits tendencies toward the homicidal he’ll have to choose one of four separate directions in which to aim.”

“That’s encouraging,” Tellenberg commented dryly.

She threw him an unblinking, no-nonsense look. “Just being careful, Esra. That’s what you do in the field when you find yourself confronting fauna that might present unknown dangers.”

He did not reply. Despite his sardonic comment, he had been thinking along exactly the same lines.

Located well away from and behind the established camp, the shuttle had been hidden from view when they had first stepped out of the forest. Their natural and proper inclination had been to investigate the buildings first. Now they found themselves slowing as they approached the craft. Though only a few external telltales were alight, they were sufficient to verify Valnadireb’s finding. A soft but powerful hum emanating from deep within the vessel confirmed it.

Following Haviti’s recommendation they spread out. There was no movement outside the craft. The loading ramp was down and deserted. Advancing with caution, Tellenberg and N’kosi started toward it. A voice stopped them.

“You are looking for me, I suppose.”

From where they were standing everyone whirled simultaneously to gaze in the direction of the calm, familiar accent. Emerging from the nearby portable workshed, Salvador Araza came toward them. Though Tellenberg’s fingers twitched anxiously he did not reach for his sidearm. Not because he realized that the phonic stiletto that hung loosely from the fingers of the technician’s right hand could be raised and aimed before the xenologist could draw his own weapon. Instead, he was stunned into inaction and an immediate response was forestalled by the unexpected spectacle of the tech’s attire. The sight of the dark garb had an equally immobilizing effect on the xenologist’s companions.

Recognition was as immediate as it was disbelieving. What Araza was wearing was as distinctive as the uniform of a Church peaceforcer, though inexpressibly less welcome. The foil-inscribed skullcap, the black jumpsuit, the distinctive and unmistakably hostile belt buckle were as well known to the four xenologists as to any casually well-informed citizen of the Commonwealth. Clearly, Araza no longer felt any need to hide his true identity or principal occupation. One could study to become a technician. To become a Qwarm, one had to be born or adopted into the secretive clan. His present appearance not only redefined him, it silently and simultaneously addressed most of their questions as to how the captain came to meet his untimely and unexpected end.

Most, but not all.

Haviti’s right hand kept fluttering back and forth, back and forth, like a timid bird unable to decide where to perch, as it hovered indecisively in the vicinity of the field sidearm she wore holstered at her waist.

“We found Boylan. You killed him.” It was not a question. “Why?”

As Araza approached the loading ramp Tellenberg and N’kosi slowly backed away. They did not take their eyes off their fellow expedition member.

“Nicholai Boylan was a good captain and a hard worker.” The Qwarm’s words were grudgingly complimentary. “If he had worked as hard at paying off the debts he had accumulated as he did at managing this mission, I would not be here. He would even now be safely inside his living quarters, probably raving and ranting about some perceived trivial oversight, and you would now be speaking to a different specialist. Someone for whom technical repair and maintenance was his or her only profession.”

Off to his left, one of Valnadireb’s foothands had edged close to his own weapon. Araza barely looked in his direction, but the brief narrow-eyed glance was enough to persuade the thranx to let his four-fingered hand slide away from the gun.

“I was able to obtain the tech position on this unpretentious expedition through means and manipulations that need not concern you. My clan has many contacts. Had this been a major first contact voyage to an important new world, personnel screening would doubtless have been more vigorous. The true nature of my real occupation might have been discovered, or at least suspected. That it was not is a credit to those among my peers who have devoted themselves to the less visible but no less important facets of our profession.”

N’kosi’s fingers continued to feather the air in the vicinity of his pistol. “If you were hired to kill Boylan—”

Araza interrupted the xenologist. “I was hired to give him one last chance to pay what he owed. And failing that, yes, to extract recompense in full. The only thing those who contracted for my services abhor worse than nonpayment of a debt is the flaunting of such nonpayment. It makes them look bad. It makes them look stupid. It tends to encourage others to default. This is bad for any business.”

“I didn’t see anything that would lead someone to believe Boylan was flaunting something like that,” Haviti remarked. “He certainly never mentioned it.”