Yuen-Mong's Revenge (3 page)

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Authors: Gian Bordin

BOOK: Yuen-Mong's Revenge
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With easy grace, the intruder loped down from the forest edge to the
bird, her long straight black hair flowing like a flag. She deftly cut
several pieces of meat, dropped them into a pouch, and then slowly
walked back up to the forest, turning briefly as if to survey the scene,
before she disappeared under the canopy.

     
Atun trained his binoculars back on the six men who were just emerging from behind the tree trunks and cautiously went back to their quarry,
where they howled again when they saw the cuts missing from the bird.
One of them kicked the carcass in obvious anger. Then they gathered the
remains, still sizable he thought and swiftly disappeared in the forest in
the opposite direction from the intruder.

     
What an implausible scene? The planet inhabited by two different
human species, one clearly dominant where even a single female was
feared by the other, though both savages who used weapons of long-gone
primitive tribes of Old Earth? Or were one or both stranded spacefarer
like him who had gone wild? This did not augur well. All at once he had
the urge to get back to his craft as quickly as possible.

 
     
He clambered over to where he had come up and carefully started the
descent, when a slight noise made him look down. Turning his head as
far as he could, he saw the intruder—
definitely female
—swinging his
survival pack onto her back.

     
"Hey, what are you doing? This is mine!" he shouted.

     
She only looked fearlessly at him with a faint smile, grabbed his laser
gun and spare charge pack and started running down toward the trees
with the same easy loping gate he had observed before, her black hair
now tied into a pony tail.

     
"No, wait! Stop! Stop!" he cried, an edge of desperation in his voice,
hoping that she would at least recognize the sound of that universal word.
He scrambled down the rock face, almost losing his grip and risking a
fall. By the time he touched the bottom, she had reached the edge of the
forest, where she briefly paused, as if wanting to see what he would do.

     
"Stop!" he called out again. But when she saw him coming down the
slope, she disappeared in the trees. Panic gripped him. He was surely
going to lose her in the forest. When he entered the trees, he could see
movement farther down—the light gray of his survival pack, bobbing up
and down. He sped up, trying to gain ground on her, but she always
seemed to be about the same distance ahead. Then he could see her
silhouette against the sunshine at the edge of the forest. He shouted
again, but the sound got swallowed by the canopy. She briefly looked
back up before turning to the right along the edge of the forest. He cut in
her direction, hoping to intercept her, or at least catch up a bit, but she
easily outsprinted him. By the time he came into the open, she was
standing, about a hundred yards ahead. He had not managed to gain an
iota on her and he was already panting heavily.

     
With a renewed effort he went after her. She turned left into the
grasses. When he reached that point, he saw her again the same distance
ahead partway down a narrow path, well-used judging by its trampled
surface.
She is trying to entice me away from my craft,
went through his
mind. Would he find his way back again? He slowed, questioning
whether to continue the pursuit or give up on the survival pack and the
laser gun.
Damn woman! This is all I need right now.

     
They must have been running for half-an-hour already and she seemed
as fresh as before, although she carried both his and her own gear. He
came to a stop. It was no use. He was overheating and ripped off his
helmet and gloves and opened the top of his protective suit. Leaning
forward, hands on his knees, he tried to recover his breath. When he
glanced up, she was standing in the path, facing him.

     
"Wait. Give back my things," he shouted again.

     
She turned slowly and started walking away. He noticed that she had
a slight limp, as if her right leg were shorter.

     
"Damn you!" he yelled.

     
She glanced back briefly and continued walking. With a last effort he
went after her again. When he had caught up to about fifty yards, she
resumed her easy loping gate. His lungs were burning, and he slowed to
a walk again. So did she. At the end of the path she turned right, taking
him farther away from his shuttle. Emerging from the grasses, he saw her
waiting at the edge of the forest, scooping out a drink from a small creek.
Water.
How he needed that! If it was safe for her, it should be safe for
him. He even found the energy to trot up to it. By the time he had wet his
dry throat, she had disappeared in the trees. She was clearly trying to lead
him to somewhere. For a moment he wondered again whether he should
turn back, but then followed her. The fact that she had not made any
threatening moves against him despite her aggressive behavior toward
the other men and that she had waited every time he had fallen behind
meant that she did not intend to harm him.

     
When he reached the other side of the forest, he saw her standing in
the middle of a swampy estuary. She was paying no attention to him, but
gazed intently upstream. Then he heard a spine-chilling scream and saw
a gigantic bird, like a prehistoric dinosaur apparition, its wingspan at
least ten meters. It was swooping down at lightning speed. The woman
turned and ran, the vulture catching up rapidly.
She won’t make it
. For
two long agonizing seconds he watched the predator closing up rapidly,
its huge claws stretched down, ready to snatch its victim in flight. He
held his breath, when suddenly something several yards across exploded
open right into its path. The animal screeched and ploughed into the
swampy ground, cartwheeling once. The woman jumped up, waved
energetically for him to come. By then the bird had righted itself again,
screeching incessantly. He hesitated. It still looked lethal. She waved
again, impatiently this time, and then started to gather up some whitish
material, like a huge cloth, completely ignoring the bird barely a stone’s
throw from her. No doubt she was picking up the device she had used to
foil the creature’s attack. Had she in fact deliberately attracted the bird
to bring it down, so that he could make it across its hunting ground?

     
He decided to trust her. After sinking in ankle deep several times, he
paid more attention to the ground, searching out the firmer parts. Before
he could reach her, she had resumed her loping gate and was again ahead
of him. At the other side of the estuary, he quickly turned to have another
look at the creature. It was trying to get airborne by an ungainly hopping
run. Then he followed his guide as she skirted just inside the tree line
along a beach, stretching for several kilometers. At its far end was a
prominent promontory dominating the shore line. Out of breath, he again
slowed to a walk, and she immediately matched him.

     
Who is that woman?
She must be almost as tall as he was, and he had
always thought of himself as well above average height. She looked slim
but athletic in her revealing body-hugging pants and vest and wore interesting boots that seemed to be molded to her feet. He could not make out
her facial features, but guessed that they were Chinese. She showed not
the slightest sign of fatigue, in spite of carrying at least twenty, possibly
even more kilograms on her back. They must have been going for three
hours already. He felt again dehydrated, hungry.
How much longer?
Only
the shame of defeat kept him going.

     
As they approached the promontory at the end of the beach, he
realized that it was much larger than he had first thought, since only its
top portion was visible above the forest canopy. From close-up, he
guessed its base to have a circumference of more than a kilometer.

     
After skirting the rock on the beach side, he had lost sight of the
woman.
Which way did she go?
It was unlikely that she had chosen to
continue along the beach, since the passage was blocked by boulders, and
she had avoided any obstacles so far. He scanned the forest from left to
right, trying to spot the telltale bobbing up and down of the survival pack.
"Damn it, where did she go?" he uttered, annoyed, still breathing heavily.

     
"Here," he heard a voice from his right.

     
Startled, he turned. She was still carrying his gun. She definitely had
Chinese features, high cheek bones, except for her big, almond-shaped
eyes which gave only the slightest hint of a slant. But what struck him
most was their clear blue.
Is she wearing color contacts?
briefly crossed
his mind, but then he dismissed it as unlikely. Not in a primitive world
like hers.

     
"Why did you steal my pack and gun? Who are you? What do you
want?" he asked in galactic English, his voice belligerent.

     
She smiled and replied: "Only one question at a time. I am Yuen-mong, and your pack is there. What is your name?"

 
     
He looked behind him to where she had pointed and saw his pack
leaning against a trunk, barely two meters away. How could he not have
heard her? "And my gun?"

 
     
"You do not need it now. You will get it back in time."

 
     
Her voice was pleasant, a soft alto, but her speech sounded rusty like
somebody who had not spoken for a long time. He was intrigued by her
accent. It reminded him of some place, but it escaped him right at that
moment.

     
"What is your name?" she questioned again.

     
"Atun Caruna. Why did you lead me here?"

 
     
"I will tell you later. Follow me."

 
     
She waited for him to shoulder his pack and then walked ahead on a
narrow path through a swampy area toward the rock face. He again
noticed the slight limp. She was an attractive woman — too bad that she
limped. She would not be accepted on Palo, his home world, nor any
other of the advanced worlds for that matter, where perfection in body
was the norm. Few people of his social class did not have cosmetic
surgery done to correct even minor physical flaws or enhance their looks,
and for some it became an obsession. Maybe it did not matter here. But
then he realized that his thoughts were rather silly, since on a primitive
world like this they would hardly have the facilities for corrective and
cosmetic surgery.

     
He caught up with her and saw his gun loosely slung over her
shoulder. The temptation was too great. He took three quick steps to get
closer, and just as he reached out to snatch the gun from her shoulder, her
right arm swung out and hit him hard against the side of the head. It was
so unexpected that he lost his balance and fell backward heavily into the
swampy ground. How did she know of his intention? She had not even
looked back before she struck.

     
"I told you, you do not need it now," she said, as she turned around.

     
He tried to rise, but was stuck in the mud like a bug on its back. She
looked at him for two seconds, and he was afraid she was going to let
him struggle alone, or worse, laugh at him. Then she bent forward and
pulled him effortlessly upright.

     
"Sorry," he murmured, avoiding her gaze, stung by her remark, and
feeling doubly silly, while he rubbed the hurting side of his head. She
acknowledged it with a nod.

     
She continued on the path toward the rock face and underneath the
branches of a big broadleaf tree she put down her things. She remained
upright for a second, as if listening to something, and then jumped a few
feet into the tree foliage and pulled down a thick rope made of a natural
fibre. He could have gotten the gun then, but was afraid to make a fool
of himself a second time. After shouldering her stuff and the gun, she
hoisted herself up the rope by her arms only, saying "follow me", as she
disappeared in the foliage.

     
He tried to imitate her, but quickly discovered that even using his legs
and feet to hold on to the rope for additional support, his progress up was
slow and painful. He needed to rest several times and when he got above
the canopy he found to his dismay that he still had another five yards to
go.

     
She was waiting for him and helped him step onto a ledge — a
platform that gave access to a cave.
Stone-age dwellers?

     
"It will get easier with practice," she remarked and then raised the
rope by several feet.

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