Crucible of a Species (45 page)

“We all came to an agreement. I have five months to prepare and I fully intend to take advantage of my full allotment of time. If you cannot bring yourself to contribute to that goal as a member of the team, then we have others who are willing. Now please, stop wasting my time.”

The doctor sat in his chair a few moments, a red flush slowly deepening across his neck. Drake stared him in the eye, fully expecting a physical response. Nolen visibly calmed himself, set down his cup and rose. Neither executive said a word as he left the office.

Drake silently chided himself for coming down so hard on the leader of the expedition’s science branch,
These egg-heads never respond the way any normal person would.

Too upset to return to his paperwork, he turned on his wall display and selected a view sent in by one of the drones. The vid followed a pack of troodon, its members munching indiscriminately on green plants or chasing small animals as they traversed a meadow of scrub palmetto and white, simple flowers. It was a most idyllic setting.

Some of the ship’s technicians were in the field working the robotics around the new plantings in the garden. They’d learned much from their studies of these animals. The troodon field research revealed how to shield and code the expedition’s conventional electronics systems so their emanations would not draw the predators. The engineers were then able to take the new concepts and extend their application to the supralight gravitic communications used between the ship and the Hunters. As a result, instantaneous communications over any distance was back, clearer and sharper than even before.

Most important, knowledge brought understanding and they no longer feared the troodon and many of the other smaller dinosaur species. As he watched, one of the techs stopped what she was doing to chase off a dino from the new sprouts. He chuckled with the irony of the scene as he watched her scold the once fierce dinosaur.

Then it hit him. This simple action by the tech sparked self-doubt,
I was wrong about wanting to put down those animals after caging them. Thompson was right, they get along just fine with us now that they understand we are not food.

Perhaps Nolen’s right too. Maybe I shouldn’t be pushing my control over the expedition. Would it reduce tensions in the group?

No. Even if I let Nolen take over it won’t resolve our problems. There are too many who openly oppose his solution and he would not be able to handle the opposition. There’s too much internal friction, too many factions.

I am sworn to follow our directive and that means repair the ship and go to Tau Ceti. Nolen’s questions are right though, what will we find when we get there? Will we be able to survive? Will there be food, water and air? Tau Ceti’s a long ways off and perhaps more dangerous than trying to return to our own time. Suppose we do find the ancestors of the Asteri, how will their ancestors welcome us on their world? Will they be primitives living in holes in the ground?

Drake’s thoughts raged as he watched the scene. After a while, he stood and left the office, intent on turning to problems less complex.

*~~*~~*~~*

Drake followed the engineer
down a pristine white hallway. Each was clad in a tight-fitting clear film from head-to-toe and carried an air filter strapped on their shoulder. “This is going to make all the difference in the world, Colonel,” The engineer commented as they passed through an air interlock and into a chamber made of clear ceramic sheets.

Proper food storage is critical on long missions and this was the service area for the cryonic flash-processing units. Drake hadn’t been into these clean rooms since before leaving Skyport and here the ancient jungles surrounding them felt very far away.

The amplified sound of his own breathing filled his ears along with the a howling of purified air flushing particles and contaminants from the room. As they approached the lab, he noticed a small animal moving clumsily across the top of a clean bench. It was obviously the source of the plaintive squeals. He immediately recognized it -- a newly hatched duck-billed hadrosaur.

“Colonel, I’m so glad you were able to make it,” Thompson called. “This is a real breakthrough. Meet Georgette, she’s a newly born Edmontosaurus Hadrosaur.

“Let me introduce Susan Reilly. Susan is the teamleader for this breakthrough project and can best explain their work.”

Susan flashed the colonel a smile before turning with obvious pride towards the small animal, “We’ve had multiple eggs in cryostatis for the past thirty seven days. Gathering eggs began as just another food source but we theorized we could go beyond simply defrosting them for consumption. Georgette here is unique because we were able to fertilize her egg after recovery from cryostasis. As you can see by the temporary egg tooth still on her nose, she just recently hatched.

“With this capability our specimens become more than a supply of eggs. We’ve found many of the dinosaurs are edible and some may eventually prove to be good companions. I’m thinking of course of the troodon as companions but there may be others.”

The colonel moved to pick up the hadrosaur but hesitated to look to the technician who smiled her permission. He easily lifted the tiny dinosaur that would grow to more than thirty-feet in a decade but for now it fit easily in his hand, “This is a godsend, we have a source of meat as long as we can find sufficient room to raise and feed the young dinosaurs. We won’t have to worry about identifying compatible food if we can find an inhabitable planet.

“Okay, I’ll set up additional egg gathering. Send me a memo listing the species you think we should be taking but don’t get carried away. I don’t want to spend a month gathering eggs.”

*~~*~~*~~*

A long warbling cry echoed
down the river valley piercing even the muffled roar of the waterfall. Several duck-billed hadrosaurs and smaller hypsilophodonts at the edge of the water basin far below lifted their heads to look upriver with concern in the direction of the call. Further down the valley, a flock of colorful bambiraptors burst from a copse of rough-barked trees. Their wings, more suited for gliding than flight, flapped with little grace but were able to carry the flock to safety across the wide river.

Sergeant Steve Martel watched the hunt unfold as he dangled his feet over a large boulder hanging precariously on the edge of the cliff. A rainbow danced below in the mist of the falling waters marking the corner of the long peninsula with the wild jungle of the mainland. Martel came here many times these past weeks, particularly when he felt a need to be alone. Today he was confused and unsure of himself, a very unusual state of mind for the young marine and the uneasiness had him in a foul mood.

The first days of their arrival were difficult but exciting. Months of hard labor followed as they worked on repairs. Oddly, even after all the death and violence he wasn’t sure he wanted to leave.

Living here is like anywhere else, the sergeant mused. You have to learn to control your environment. What you can’t control, you learn to live with or you die. After you settle into it, you accept it, begin to see the beauty of it all and then, like every other station I’ve been assigned to, it’s time to leave. …. Well, maybe not this time.

The river flowed gracefully down through the lush valley following the foot of the peninsula. Herds of dinosaurs covered the floor while reptiles and strange birds shared the sky and nested in the cliffs.

Martell felt a tugging at his pocket and twisted in alarm. A microraptor, startled by his sudden movement, hopped backwards and into the air. Long black and gold feathers fluttered along its wings and legs as it scolded him with a short barking growl. It had spotted the nuts in the cargo pouch on his leg and was trying to steal his lunch.

“So, are you the same guy I tried to skewer with a spear so many months ago little fellow? Here, you’ve brightened my day, dig in. I’ll share ‘em with you.” The marine spoke softly as he held the animal back and opened the bag while trying to avoid its small but sharp teeth.

That’s one of the things that makes this place so fascinating. They ain’t afraid of ya. Humans haven’t been around long enough for them to learn fear. Even some of the big grass-eaters, you can get right up to them, almost touch ...

The careful threshing of something quietly pushing through the brush interrupted his thought. Martel threw his bag over the cliff to get rid of the little dinosaur and froze, hoping whatever might be approaching hadn’t seen him. It was too noisy for a predator but it sounded like there were several coming his way. His hand rested near his Pulsar.

The movement stopped and the marine held his breath, not even daring to move his eyes. A flicker of movement, perhaps just a change in shading caught his eye. He stared at the offending patch of foliage for a few moments before a telltale sliding-shift and momentary double vision outlined a figure for just a fraction of a second. Martel recognized it immediately.

“Who authorized you devil-dogs to break out the camo suits?” Martel’s voice cut through the jungle foliage like a shot in the night. An air-splitting sharp crack replied and the limbs on a nearby bush shook marking the angry passage of the projectile. Lighting quick reactions threw the sergeant onto the ground as a command voice lifted from the jungle, “Stop firing you asshole. Do you think the dinos are talking to us now?

“Sorry, Sarge. You scared the turds out of us.” Martel immediately recognized the voice of Corporal Ryan Tyree. The corporal came forward but it wasn’t until the figure drew close that Martel could actually see the camouflaged marine.

“We’re doing a special recon for Lieutenant Esperanza. She, ah, wanted to see how effective the suits would be against the larger meat eaters. It all started when one of the troodon …”

“Cut the crap, Corporal. You don’t need all these men for that. Actually, why would she care? We’re all leaving or haven’t you heard?

“Say, just how many of you are there and … Katy? Kate Nolen! What the hell’s a ship’s support specialist doing in a marine…” Martel stopped as he recognized their heavily laden backpacks. “You guys are friggin’ deserting. Are you crazy?”

Tyree stepped back but he was careful not to point his weapon at the sergeant, “Take it easy, Sarge. We’re heading over to the colony. We all know the risk but we can make it if we take our time and keep on our toes. Don’t try to say you haven’t thought of it too.

“We’ve taken nothing more than a few days food and supplies and there’ll be less mouths to feed on the trip so we’ll be less of a burden for the ship if we leave.” Tyree noticed the sergeant’s hand resting on his rifle, “Sarge, I want you to take your hand off the Pulsar. There’s a dozen rifles pointed at you right now and…”

“Aw, stop yer blowin’, Tyree. I ain’t gonna stop ya. Maybe I’ll even …. You’re crazy ya know! You’re all friggin crazy. I don’t even want to know who you are. Beat it.” Martel’s anger grew as he silently cursed the group until he realized why he was so annoyed and stopped, “… and good luck. I hope you make it.”

“Steve, I wanna say …”

“Ryan, we’ve been together for a long time. Don’t push it. Just get out before I change my mind and you had better not have done any damage before you left or I’m personally comin’ after ya. Beat it.”

Martel wistfully watched them disappear into the jungle. Soon, he was alone with his thoughts,
Yeah, Martel. Change your mind, huh? Tyree thought I was gonna stop him. Wouldn’t he have been surprised? That was my chance, handed to me on a silver platter. Guess I know the answer now.

The sergeant watched over the valley a while longer. Eventually he saw a few stones rustle on the last switchback of the trail far below. They’d be across the river and well on their way before anyone at the ship knew they’d up and left. He turned one last wistful glance across the river to the small sliver of distant ocean visible from this vantage. A barely noticed sigh escaped his lips before he rose and turned towards the camp,
Gotta go. Got some packin’ to do.

*~~*~~*~~*

“Sergeant
, where the hell are all your people?” Lieutenant Esperanza growled as she charged into the mess tent.

Martel stared at the lieutenant;
some officers never seem to be able to ask a guy a civil question. Well, she’s not gonna get a civil answer. She can figure it out for herself.

“Who’re you looking for, Lieutenant?”

“Bush, Tyree or anyone else. I need some warm bodies to go and gather eggs, and no wisecracks from you. I’m not in the mood.”

“Haven’t seen any of them since before lunch, ma’am, how ‘bout if I send Simpson and Hsu over to you after I finish here?”

“Okay, I’ll be at Hunter Two. Don’t take all afternoon.”

Ensign Dailey chimed in from over at the next table, “I saw them in ship’s stores drawing equipment this morning. Looked like they were heading off base for just that sort of mission. Could anyone else …. hey, where’s she going?”

“Wouldn’t know, Tom.” Martel replied as he turned back to his meal with a very innocent, unconcerned look on his face.

Esperanza was pissed. Dailey’s comments sent a chill down her spine. She should have expected this, but Tyree? She never thought Tyree would bolt.

Ship’s stores were in the lowest deck and it took a precious fifteen-minutes to get down there. She burst into the room and saw Chief Meecham already in very agitated conversation.