A LONG CURVED BLADE

                          © 1994 by Jerry J. Davis

              Previously Published in Leopards Realm Magazine

         Laying in his two-person bunk with a pillow over his head,
    Douglass could still hear the sounds of lovemaking drifting
    through the frictionless air ducts. These air ducts were perfect
    for carrying sound, and thanks to them nothing that went on in the
    capsule was private. The woman who was moaning was his wife. The
    man ­­­ well, that was no secret. It was Cromwell, the weatherman.

         Doug listened, feeling sick and hopeless ­­­ then another
    sound caught his attention. A distant warbling cry, a chorus of
    voices. Then a woman's voice was sobbing over the communications
    system. Her voice rang through the metal of the capsule. "It was a
    skike, another damn skike," she was saying. "It killed a boy."
    Doug rolled off his bunk and wriggled into his jungle gear,
    stepped into his boots, and grabbed his rifle. He pushed through
    his door and hurried out into the circular hall, heading for the
    front door.
         Leo Calderon, the expedition leader, was sealing off the
    capsule as Doug came trotting up. He looked at the dirty jungle
    clothes and the gun in Doug's hand and said, "No, you're not going
    out there."
         "Who else is out? Selene is out there!"
         "Selene and Lipton are safe in the village. There's no need
    for you going out."
         "It killed a child."
         "I don't care­­­­"
         "Goddamn it, it killed a little kid!" Doug shoved past the
    older man and pulled the quick release lever. The doors slammed
    open and he leapt out into the dirt and leaves, the million
    insects.
         "Douglass, come back here!"
         Doug trotted down the path, flipping his rifle on and
    glancing at its scanner.
         "Douglass! That's an order!" Leo was shouting. "You come back
    here now!" His voice grew distant, then faded out altogether. Doug
    didn't notice, he just kept running. The village was right ahead,
    he could see it through spiral leaves and odd horizontal limbs.
    There was a wooden gate with an elaborate mechanical latch ­­­
    every piece meticulously carved from wood ­­­ he let himself in
    and ran toward Lipton, who was holding a rifle but was so pressed
    by the colonists that he could only point it straight up.
         "Where's your wife?" Doug yelled.
         "Over there by the body," Lipton yelled back. "She saw it
    happen, the boy was protecting her."
         Doug pushed his way through another crowd and found Selene on
    the ground hugging her knees and crying. In front of her was the
    gory mess that had been a colonist boy, about 11 standard years
    old. Doug recognized him, he remembered giving the child a candy
    bar, and was then chewed out by Cromwell, Leo, and his own wife
    for "introducing alien food into their diet" and "interfering"
    with their studies.
         "The attack was here?" Doug asked. "Inside?"
         Several of the colonists nodded. One, who was called Jahk,
    pointed to planetary west and said, "Th'skike it dug right through
    th'floor fence 'n right there."
         "Show me."
         He trotted with several men to the hole where the skike had
    entered and then exited after the kill. The colonists had covered
    the ground of their village with a tight crisscrossing of wood
    everywhere inside the fence, and the skike had dug up underneath
    and broke its way through. It was a big one, bigger than the one
    that usually haunted this area. Doug set his rifle to scan the
    tunnel, and followed its path to the edge of the fence and beyond.
    "It's a short tunnel," he told Jahk. "It ends right out there."
         "Th'other end we'll go 'n we'll wait there," Jahk said. He
    was armed with a beautifully crafted crossbow with deadly
    obsidian­tipped arrows. Doug followed him and the other colonists
    through a gate and out to the hole, where they stood with weapons
    pointing.
         Doug was fiddling with the knobs on his scanner. "It's not in
    there," he said. He took a few steps to the edge of the jungle,
    scanning. "Out there," he said, his voice hushed. "About thirty
    meters."
         "You c'n see it?" Jahk asked him.
         "My machine can. It's out there, not moving."
         "It listens s'nd smells us," Jahk said. "Th'skike is safen 'n
    'n 'n th'jungle."
         "It thinks it's safe." Rifle forward, Doug pushed his way
    into the foliage. "I'm going to kill the thing. This time I am
    going to kill it." He ducked his head under a branch, moving
    forward, the tart scent of sap burning his nostrils. The colonists
    were right behind him, following close.
         The beast heard them coming and retreated. Doug watched it
    with the scanner, creeping forward, breathing shallow. This was
    the skike's environment, the skike's territory. Even with his
    energy weapon and his motion scanner Doug knew he was at a
    disadvantage here. This beast weighed at least one standard ton, a
    multi­legged, twelve­eyed creature with a large brain and quick
    reflexes. The colonist's name for the creature was a perversion of
    the English word "scythe" ­­­ two of its forelegs were
    scythe­shaped blades a good 1.2 meters long, double edged and
    razor sharp.
         Doug reached a clearing and stopped. The colonists behind him
    stopped and spread out, weapons drawn and ready. The beast was a
    mere 20 meters ahead, invisible in the foliage. Doug braced
    himself against a frame tree to keep his aim steady, peering
    through the screen at the curtain of leaves and branches in front
    of them. The skike was there, just beyond. The bolt from the
    energy weapon could burn right through to it, but if Doug didn't
    hit its brain it would be a wasted shot. As he watched, it began
    to circle to the right, trying to get behind them. He could hear
    it in the warm, heavy air; the rustling of leaves, twigs snapping.
    The scanner showed it as a vague blob on the screen, growing
    sharper.
         Doug realized why it was circling. It wanted to cut them off
    from the village. "Back," he said between his teeth, "back off!"
    They moved back the way they'd come, and all the while Doug was
    aware that the thing could leap through the hanging foliage and
    slice him to pieces without him firing a shot. The colonists,
    spooked, turned and ran.
         Hearing them, the skike moved faster.
         Doug was walking backwards, his gun pointing toward the
    beast. If the damn thing would step into a clearing, he thought,
    that would be the end. I'll murder it. Instead, the foliage grew
    thicker. Doug could only see a few meters before broad spiral
    leaves obscured his vision. Damn it, he thought, this is not good.

         He sidestepped to the left, circling around. The skike was 15
    meters away now, passing him. It can leap this far, he thought.
    And just as he was thinking that, he stepped on a dry fallen limb
    and it snapped. Not too loud of a snap, but just enough. The skike
    stopped, listening. Doug scrambled backwards, panicking. He
    stumbled into a clearing and turned and ran. He could hear the
    skike moving behind him. It was coming fast, he could hear the
    crashing and scraping as it moved recklessly through the
    underbrush.
         Doug turned and dropped, raising his rifle. He could see it,
    it was light brown like the color of the tree trunks, looking like
    a bundle of thick branches moving, raising and lowering, and two
    shiny black blades raised on thick, strong arms, raised to strike.
    Doug fired the rifle, blasting off one of the thing's legs. The
    skike went rolling and scrambling around the clearing, slashing at
    the air. In his panic Doug fired two more times, missing the
    creature entirely, and when the creature stopped and Doug could
    get a bead on the mass of black eyes, he pulled the trigger and
    the gun did nothing. A red light came on, telling him to wait
    fifteen seconds for the capacitors to recharge.
         The beast raised its blades and came toward him.
         Doug let out a cry and turned and ran.
         He heard crashing behind him, the sound of the beast
    pursuing, but it fell behind. The wound was slowing it down. There
    was a beep as the rifle was ready to fire again, and Doug slid to
    a stop and turned around, rifle raised. The skike was nowhere in
    sight. The scanner had it 40 meters away and fading as it
    retreated into the deep jungle. Doug considered following it, but
    his nerves were shot. He couldn't bring himself to do it.
         Feeling bitter, he turned and made his way back to the
    village.

                                     #

         It was only when Douglass arrived back at the capsule did he
    realize how much trouble he was in. Leo Calderon, biologist,
    anthropologist, was also the expedition commander. He was general,
    king, judge and jury, and god as far as the expedition was
    concerned. Douglass had disobeyed a direct order in leaving the
    capsule after Leo had sealed it off.
         Doug's wife, Janet, was standing beside Cromwell Flack as Leo
    ranted and raved and stripped Doug of all rank and privilege.
    During the tirade Doug stood silently and stared into his wife's
    eyes. She was a stranger, now. Janet Nerro, with a PhD in Human
    Sciences, was willing to do anything to win a place on this
    Technica expedition, even willing to convince a lowly technician,
    a repairman, into thinking she was in love with him. Lowly as he
    was, Technica considered Douglass the best qualified "engineer"
    for the expedition and preferred that he be married to maintain
    the stability of the team. Any woman scientist being considered
    for the expedition would surely lock her place in on the team by
    marrying him. Cromwell Flack, the eminent climate expert, was
    above all this ­­­ he was allowed to join the team without
    bringing a wife, which upset the balance. Seven team members
    instead of eight, and four of them men. Out of all of them,
    Douglass was the only one who was not a scientist. He was only
    along to keep everything running for the duration.
         Six more years, Douglass thought. Six.
         ". . . you are not to interact with the colonists," Leo was
    raging at him, "you are not to speak with them, you are not to
    look at them! Do you understand?"
         "Yes sir."
         "You are not to go into their village, you are not to go into
    the jungle. Until further notice, you are confined to the capsule.
    And you no longer have any access to Technica weapons!"
         "Yes sir."
         "Have I made myself clear?"
         "Yes sir."
         "Do you have any questions?"
         "No sir." Actually, he had a lot of them, but didn't have
    energy to bring them up.
         "You're dismissed, Mr. Dunhill. Go to your cabin."
         Doug nodded, but he was still staring into his wife's eyes.
    She had no expression at all, she simply stared back. He turned
    and walked stiffly out of the commons, out into the circular hall.
    He passed the thin metal door to his cabin and went instead to
    Cromwell's, letting himself in and closing the door behind
    himself. He sat silently on the bed and waited.
         Cromwell and Janet didn't show up right away, so Doug took
    the opportunity to use Cromwell's data terminal. Cromwell was
    going to be furious to find him in here, but Doug couldn't imagine
    himself being in more trouble than he was already in. Using the
    terminal's screen, he brought up a summery of the expedition.

                        TECHNICA MISSION #2786­855
                      FAILURE OF COLONY AT DROXFORD 2

         Cromwell and Janet entered the cabin as Doug was reading
    through the already familiar text. Cromwell merely made a
    disgusted face at finding him in the room. "Douglass," he said,
    "get out."
         "I want to read you something."
         "Get out."
         "Just listen to me. Please."
         Cromwell sighed and crossed his arms. Janet stood looking
    uncomfortable. She stared into his eyes, though. Either she was
    totally without shame, or Doug had married a cyborg. He was
    beginning to wonder.
         "The duration of the mission is seven years," Doug said,
    reading from the data. "The object of study: Native adaptation of
    the descendants of failed colony sent off three­hundred­seven
    years before. Expedition goal: To determine why the original
    colony failed, and find a solution to the problem. Prepare a
    preliminary report for Technica recolonization effort." Doug
    turned the terminal off. "We've been here for eleven months,
    right? So what have we found?"
         "I'm not going to waste my time discussing it with you."
         "I'm not talking to you, I'm talking to her. She's my wife, I
    have a right to talk to her, don't I?"
         "This is childish, there is no point to it," Cromwell said.
         Doug shrugged. "Janet, please, talk to me."
         "Obviously," Janet said, "we've only been here eleven months,
    our findings are inconclusive."
         "Inconclusive? We're to determine why the original colony
    failed, and find a solution to the problem. Well, we know why the
    colony failed! The skikes have been killing them off for over
    three­hundred years! And it's obvious how to solve the problem . .
    . we move the colony to an area where there are no skikes."
         "We are not going to move the colonists. I'm not going over
    this with you again."
         "The longer you wait, the more of them are going to be
    killed!"
         "Doug, listen to me. You're not a scientist. You think you
    know, but you don't know all the facts. You're jumping to a
    conclusion! All evidence must be considered. The colonists must be
    studied and their social structure mapped out. Their customs and
    their evolutionary adaptations must be analyzed. To do that, they
    must remain as they­­­­"
         "They have to be killed off one by one so you can determine
    exactly why they're dying?"
         "This has gone far enough," Cromwell said. "Out of here,
    now."
         "Cromwell, stuff yourself."
         "Alright, I'm going to go get Leo." Cromwell stormed out of
    the room.
         "Doug," Janet said, "maybe you are right. Maybe. But you go
    and move them, and we start fresh somewhere else ­­­ it may happen
    all over again with another ten­thousand colonists because we
    jumped the gun and we didn't find the truth."
         "There is a perfectly habitable island system a thousand
    klicks from here with no skike population whatsoever," Doug said.
    "They'd have all they need, and no­­­­"
         Leo burst into the room. "Douglass!" he yelled.
         "They'd have no need to fear!" Douglass said to his wife.
         Leo and Cromwell grabbed Doug by the arms and half­dragged
    half­carried him to his cabin, tossed him in, and locked the door
    from the outside.

                                     #

         For the next three and a half weeks Douglass was incarcerated
    in his cabin. He was allowed to go from the cabin to the bathroom,
    but that was it. When he was pulled out to fix something, he was
    to fix it and then return to the cabin. Lipton and his wife Selene
    would spend a few hours a day with him, and his wife would
    occasionally visit. Janet would tell him the situation was
    unfortunate, and assure him it would end soon as long as he
    continued to cooperate. Lipton and his wife openly detested Doug's
    treatment and would daily make protests to Leo for it to end. Leo
    remained stubborn because he wanted his word to be law, and
    because he thought Doug should be taught a lesson.
         One night in the middle of the third week a large delegation
    of colonists carrying torches came from the village. Doug watched
    from his view port, wondering what it was all about. All the
    scientists were out to meet them, and after a few minutes Lipton
    opened Doug's cabin door and stood smiling at him. "You're out, my
    friend," he said. "You're free."
         "Oh, what, Leo wants me to fix something? That's great. Tell
    Leo that he can take whatever broken thing it is and stick it up
    his butt, because I'm on strike."
         "No, the colonists have come for you. They've made you part
    of their tribe."
         "What?"
         "After that day you went chasing that skike into the jungle,
    they decided you were a member of their tribe. Selene and I kinda
    leaked the news that you were being locked up out here, and
    they've come to get you."
         Doug grabbed his jungle gear and followed Lipton outside. The
    leader of the colonists, Kinjon, was prominent among the
    delegation; two warrior women stood one to either side of him
    holding flaming torches. He held out his arms and embraced Doug,
    and called him brother. "Y'r th'bravest g'damn man of r'people,"
    he said, with some significance. "C'm on w'us."
         Doug shrugged, and wordlessly followed.
         The delegation returned to the village, where two huge bon
    fires lit the area in orange, flickering light. Naked men and
    women did a thrusting, gyrating dance to high, warbling flute
    music. The scientists followed, everyone but Cromwell using one
    instrument or another to record the event. To Doug, the whole
    thing smacked of a fertility right.
         They sat in a circle around the two bonfires and watched the
    dancers flirting with the flames. It was nerve-racking for Doug to
    watch, he was sure someone's hair was going to catch on fire ­­­
    or worse. The heat was making him sweat. He felt like he was being
    barbecued.
         Someone knelt down beside him. It was Jahk, one of the
    warriors who'd followed him out after the skike. "Y'r new w'us, I
    got'ta 'splain things t'you."
         "Okay."
         "Th'girl straight 'cross fr'm you is Shrew. She's c'm t'age,
    'n this's her's. You been chosen, you'n her first. Your s'posed
    t'go b'tween th'fires 'n claim'n her."On the other side of the
    circle, obscured by the shimmering of hot air, was a very young
    girl dressed in a loose gown of woven web straw. It had an almost
    silver look to it.
         "Jahk, run that by me again. I don't think I understand."
         "Run past you?"
         "What?"
         "Y'want me t'run past you?"
         "No. I want you to tell me what this is all about. I don't
    understand."
         "Shrew's c'm t'age she's s'posed t'get preggers. Th'people
    need y'r children 'cause y'r smart'n brave."
         Selene must have seen the look of panic in his eyes. She
    knelt down on the other side of him and said into his ear, "This
    is their version of a 'coming out' party, Doug. You're not
    marrying her."
         "She's so young!"
         "This is their society. They're in a race with death. They
    keep all their women pregnant, and their children grow up faster."
         "Yeah, but she's so young."
         "You d'n like her?" Jahk asked.
         "Well, yes, I mean I like her fine, but, it's just that­­­­"
         "Go through with it, Doug," Selene said. "There's nothing
    wrong about it. You'll be honoring them and you'll be helping us.
    We'll need your experience for the records, in fact your uploaded
    memories will become an important part of our report."
         "Oh, great."
         "This is science, Doug. I'll go over and explain to Shrew
    that you're nervous about all this ­­­ maybe she'll make it easier
    on you."
         "What are you going to tell her?"
         "I'll tell her you're a virgin." Selene stood and walked
    around the fires to the young native girl.
         Jahk was incredulous. "Y'never stuck it down?"
         The flute music was growing wilder and more intricate, and
    the dancing females, most of whom were pregnant, started coming up
    to Doug and shaking and gyrating in his face. The men were
    treating the young girl across the way with the same attentions.
    Then they pulled away and parted, making an erotic pathway between
    the two of them. The fires were roaring like a monster.
         Shrew stood up, her dress shimmering. Jahk pulled Douglass to
    his feet and gave him a shove toward her. As Doug was taking his
    first step, he saw something very large and fast move behind
    Shrew, and the crowd began making panicked motions. It was a
    skike. Doug saw it raising its blade­like forelegs up and pausing,
    and, before he could react, it brought them down in sharp,
    spasmodic motions. The flute music was replaced by screaming. He
    saw Selene pushing Shrew away and then go down under one of the
    creature's thrusts.
         He heard someone screaming his name. Doug turned and saw his
    wife holding his rifle. She threw it at him and he caught it.
         Doug walked between the two fires, the rifle raised. People
    were in his way, colonist warriors firing point­blank at the skike
    with their crossbows. The arrows would either glance away or sink
    in only enough to anger the creature. "Move!" Doug shouted. "Move
    out of the way!" They parted before him and he had a clear shot.
    His rifle blazed. Several of the creature's legs and part of its
    torso exploded, and it rolled over twice and scrambled off away
    from the fires. He fired at it again, hitting it in the back. It
    let out a long piercing shriek, but kept crawling. Doug walked
    along behind it, waiting for the capacitors in his rifle to
    recharge. Several of the colonists, including Jahk, followed
    respectfully behind him.
         "It'n burrow! It'n burrow, right there!" one called out.
         Doug looked ahead to where the skike was heading. A dark hole
    in the earth. He walked to the side of the creature, which was
    mostly dead, and aimed at the mass of black eyes. The gun was
    recharged and ready to fire. He let loose with one more shot and
    killed it.
         A motion caught his eye. There was movement at the mouth of
    the hole. As he was turning a tangled shadow of legs erupted from
    the hole, springing toward him. Doug shot it dead center, blasting
    a large hole through its most vital area. It reeled, balanced for
    a moment on hind legs; the skike towered above him, then fell over
    on its back and lay there with quivering legs. "I killed you!"
    Doug yelled at the thing. "Do you understand me? I killed you! I
    killed you!" He kicked one of its more energetically quivering
    legs.
         Beyond the two dead beasts, one more emerged from the hole.
    It seemed to size up the situation, studying its two dead
    companions, then backed down into the earth. It kicked dirt after
    itself, blocking the entrance.
         Doug walked up to the hole and looked down. The dirt still
    moved as the creature below packed it tight. He turned and looked
    at the colonists, who were staring at Doug with open awe.
         Jesus, he thought. He stepped back from the hole, and moved
    away from the dead skikes. He was breaking out in a cold sweat,
    and he was shaking. The others! He'd seen Selene go down, and
    Lipton and Cathy. Doug turned back toward the bon fires and the
    panicked colonists and broke into a run.

                                     #

         The two men kneeled and prayed. They had done all they could
    do for her, maybe saved her life. They didn't know for sure; they
    wouldn't know for years.
         Lipton was crying. His wife, Selene, was now in hibernation
    until Technica came back to pick them up. Leo and Cathy, the
    leader and his wife, were both dead. Cromwell and Janet were in
    another part of the capsule hyper-waving the news to Technica. It
    was just the four of them now.
         "Can't we do anything else?" Lipton was mumbling. "Can't we
    do something more?"
         Doug didn't know what to say to the man. The only MD on the
    expedition was Selene. Doug certainly wasn't a doctor. "We have to
    trust the automed," he told him. "This is the best chance Selene
    has. We have her in stasis, her mind is still intact, her body can
    be repaired once we're back in civilization. But for now, this is
    the safest thing we can do."
         Lipton was rocking back and forth, his arms crossed in front
         of his chest. "I can't just leave her frozen for six years,"
    he said, his voice cracking. "I just can't."
         "It won't be six years to her," Doug said.
         Lipton nodded wordlessly, and continued rocking. He's in
    shock, Doug thought. He needs some sort of anti­shock injection.
    Doug stayed with him for a while, then silently got up to check
    with the automed about shock medication.
         "I'm glad you killed the goddamned thing," Lipton said.
         Doug paused, looking back. "I'm glad I did too," he said
    awkwardly.
         "The colonist chief, he said they only killed one before."
         "They're tough animals."
         "He said they came back the next night and killed half his
    people."
         "What?"
         "The skikes came back, a whole bunch of them, and slaughtered
    half their people."
         "Who told you this?"
         "Kinjon, their chief."
         Douglass felt faint. "The skikes retaliate?"
         "I guess so. Maybe last night they were retaliating because
    you'd hit one." He was staring at Doug with a haunted expression.
         "But that was weeks ago," Doug said.
         Lipton shrugged.
         "You think that's possible?"
         Lipton shrugged again. "The colonists would know best."
         "You think they'll come back?"
         "I don't know."
         "You think they will, don't you?"
         "The colonists think so."
         "That means I . . . it means I brought them, that I . . ."
         "You couldn't have known, Doug. Nobody blames you. Kinjon
    would have killed it himself last night if he'd been able to."
    Lipton's expression turned savage. "I'm glad you killed it."
         "I killed two of them, Lipton."
         "Two?"
         "There were three altogether, and I killed two. The third one
    got away."
         "That one will probably bring more."
         The two men stared at each other. Doug was feeling more and
    more desperate. At that moment Cromwell entered the room.
         "Technica sends us their condolences," Cromwell said. "But
    they said that there was no way to speed our departure. The next
    hyperspacial window is still years away. We're to carry on as best
    we can."
         "What did they say about Leo's death?" Lipton asked.
         "They said what you'd expect someone to say when they learn
    of a death. Since I'm the senior here, however, I've assumed
    command."
         "They put you in charge?" Doug said.
         "I've assumed command."
         "But they didn't tell you that you were in charge."
         "It was implied."
         Doug didn't doubt it, but still it galled him. "How are you
    with a blaster, Cromwell?"
         "I don't touch the things."
         "Well, that's just great. There's a possibility that the
    skikes are coming back tonight, maybe more that there were last
    night. What do you propose to do about it."
         "Do about it?"
         "Yeah, do about it. What do we do about the skikes?"
         "We can't do anything about the skikes. We're here to
    observe, not to take action. We do nothing. We stay in the capsule
    until further notice."
         Doug turned to Lipton. "I knew he was going to say that. I
    just knew it."
         Lipton nodded unhappily.
         "You feel up to shooting some skikes?" Doug asked him.
         Lipton took a breath, staring at him. Then he stood up. "I'll
    kill as many as I can."
         "You're not going to do anything of the sort," Cromwell said.
         Doug swung on him. "We damn well are," he said. "I'm tired of
    this do­nothing nonsense."
         "You'll do what you're ordered to do, Douglass! You're
    insubordination is the cause of this situation!"
         "Don't give me that crap."
         "I'm giving you an order, technician! You're confined to your
    cubicle." Cromwell pointed in the direction.
         Doug turned red, and took a step toward Cromwell. Lipton
    stepped in front of him, and pushed him back. To Cromwell, Lipton
    said, "You can't give him orders anymore."
         "What? What did you say?"
         "Doug's a member of the colonist tribe," Lipton said. "He
    takes his orders from Kinjon."
         "That's ridiculous!"
         "No its not. You know what that ceremony was about."
         Cromwell was silent for a moment, shifting mental gears.
    "Well, if he's no longer part of the expedition, he no longer has
    access to technica equipment."
         "He does if Kinjon says he does," Lipton said. "Kinjon is the
    utmost authority on this planet, and he doesn't recognize Technica
    as a separate state." Lipton had a wild look in his eyes, like he
    wasn't under control anymore.
         "Lipton, don't be a fool!"
         "That's the way it is, Cromwell." Lipton took a threatening
    step toward the man.
         "We'll see about that," Cromwell said, backing up a step.
    "We'll see what Technica thinks about it." He turned and quickly
    left the room.
         "A meteorologist in charge of our expedition," Lipton said.
    "The thought makes me ill."
         While Cromwell was busy in communications, Doug and Lipton
    opened the weapons rack and armed themselves to the teeth. They
    left the capsule and commandeered the observation flyer, which was
    nothing more than a flat platform with a railing. When the
    villagers saw them coming there was a big commotion, and Doug had
    to shoo them out from under the craft so that they could land.
         Kinjon came out to meet them, and Lipton addressed the man.
    "We need two of your bravest so we can go out and kill the skike
    before they can come back."
         "I go w'you myself," he said. "Jahk too."
         "We brought extra weapons, so you can learn to use them."
         "Good." He nodded, appearing very pleased. Doug and Lipton
    helped him up into the flyer, then the warrior named Jahk.
         "Hold on to the railing," Doug told them, and they nodded and
    held on. Doug sent the craft drifting into the air, across the
    village and over the jungle.
         Cromwell's voice came over the com unit, but Doug switched it
    off.

                                     #

         They made a spiral path around the village, extending
    outward, flying for hours with the scanners finding nothing. Then,
    several miles out, they ran across a dozen of them in a group.
    "This is perfect," Lipton said. "We'll wipe 'em all out at once
    and be rid of them."
         "Yeah," Doug said, speaking with more confidence than he
    felt. He let the flyer drift silently down to treetop level, and
    set it to hover. They'd shown the colonists how to handle the
    weapons, and the two picked up on it quite fast. Point and shoot
    ­­­ there really wasn't much to it, the energy blasts fired
    perfectly straight. They each picked a target and fired. The
    skikes screamed.
         Doug discharged his rifle three times, killing two and
    wounding one, then stopped to let it recharge. Most of them were
    dead, the rest wounded. Doug's rifle recharged and he killed the
    last one he'd wounded, and then there was another one. He killed
    it first shot ­­­ the skikes had no natural enemies that attacked
    from above, their brain cases were easy targets. But, then there
    was another one. Doug was losing count. He fired on it as well,
    wounding it, and then there were two more. Only then did he
    realize there was more than the original twelve. More were coming
    into the little clearing from the east.
         He told the others to stop firing, and turned his scanner to
    the east. He swore. "There's hundreds of them!"
         Lipton looked over the scanner reading. "Looks like more than
    that. The scanner must be malfunctioning."
         "No, it's not." Doug raised above the tree­tops and sent the
    flyer east. There was a large clearing ahead, and it was all
    brown. It looked like acres and acres of fallen logs, but the logs
    were moving.
         Now it was Lipton's turn to swear. "Thousands of them," he
    said under his breath.
         "Tens of thousands," Doug said. He was watching the scanner.
    "They're all heading that way."
         "All of them?"
         "All of them. They're heading toward the village."
         The men stared at each other, and then Doug said, "Lipton,
    how many women and children do you think the orbital can transport
    at a time? In the passenger compartment and also in the cargo
    bay?"
         "A lot of children could fit. A lot of the smaller women,
    too."
         "It's about a hour­and­a­half round trip to the Calos
    Islands, plus say a half an hour to load and unload. Call it two
    hours even."
         "It's possible, then. We should at least start. Women and
    children first, and some men to take care of them, in case . . ."
         Kinjon was following their thoughts, and he nodded. "You go
    first," he said. "I want you and Jahk with them."
         "Jahk can go, but I have too much only I can do."
         "What are you thinking about?" Lipton asked.
         "The defense system. On the capsule."
         "What?"
         "I'm going to move it to the village."
         "Can that be done?"
         Doug nodded, and turned the craft around.
         At the village, Kinjon and the warrior Jahk leapt to the
    ground to immediately ready their people for the ordeal. Doug then
    flew the craft over to the capsule, and told Lipton to prepare the
    orbital for its mission as a sky ferry.
         "Doug Dunhill!" called out Cromwell's voice. "By the
    authority given to me by Technica, I am placing you under arrest."
    He came walking up to the flier as Doug was shutting it down.
         "That's fine, but you're going to have to wait a few days."
         "I'm not waiting a second."
         Doug looked up at the man, and realized Cromwell was aiming a
    pistol at him. Janet was standing behind and to the side of
    Cromwell, looking cool and unemotional. She said nothing.
         "There are thousands of those skikes heading right for this
    place," Doug said.
         "Right," Cromwell said.
         "I'm telling you the truth. If you don't believe me, ask
    Lipton."
         Cromwell smirked. "Why should I believe him?"
         "What, is he under arrest too? Are you and Janet carrying out
    the rest of this mission by yourselves?"
         Just then the orbital rose into the air beside the capsule,
    startling both Cromwell and Janet. "What's going on?" Cromwell
    exclaimed. "What's he doing?"
         "We're evacuating as many colonists as we can before the
    skikes get here. And I'm taking down the defense system and
    setting it up on the tower in the middle of the village."
         "You're doing no such thing!"
         "You'll have to kill me to stop me."
         Janet stepped forward. "Doug, you can't be serious. You can't
    take down our only means of defense."
         "Well, what about them?" He motioned toward the village.
    "What are we going to do, jam all 400 of them into the capsule?
    It's a bit small, don't you think?"
         "But..."
         "The only other answer is to move the capsule into the
    village, and it's a little heavy for that. It was meant for one
    trip, down, and not back up."
         "You're not taking the defense system," Cromwell said. "And
    I'll kill you if I have to."
         "Okay, kill me."
         Cromwell grinned, and raised the pistol to eye level. "I
    will, I warn you. Now go to your cabin like a good little tech."
         "I'm not going anywhere."
         "I'm giving you one last chance."
         "Cromwell," Janet said, "Cromwell, think about this."
         "I'm in charge here."
         "Cromwell, Doug has a good point."
         "He does not! What are you talking about?"
         "We can't let the subject of our study die off right before
    our eyes."
         "You believe him?"
         "Yes, I do. Doug has never lied to me."
         "He's not lying to you, he's lying to me!"
         "Cromwell, I'm not going to let you shoot my husband."
         "Your husband? Now he's your husband again?"
         "He's never stopped being my husband."
         Both men gave her looks.
         "Well," she said.
         "Look, Cromwell, are you going to kill me or what? I mean,
    I'm in a hurry, I'm sure you understand."
         "You're not taking the defense system."
         "Do we have to go through this again?"
         "You're not taking it."
         "Okay, shoot me in the back, then." Doug walked off toward
    the capsule.
         Cromwell raised the gun.
         "Cromwell!" Janet said. She forced his arm down with her's.
    As the two began a shouting match, Doug made his way up to the
    capsule's pointed roof with his tools. He disassembled and removed
    the automatic energy weapons, placing each piece carefully in a
    sack hanging from his shoulder. The two were still shouting at
    each other as he finished with the weapons and started on the
    computer system.
         The orbital glided back from the village and hovered over
    Doug. Lipton popped the hatch and poked his head out. "Got a load,
    all the kids and some women. Jahk refused to go, though ­­­ he
    wants to stay and fight."
         Doug nodded. "Didn't really expect him to go, did you?"
         "Not really." He waved.
         Doug waved back.
         Cromwell took a moment out from his heated argument to yell
    at Lipton. "You bring that thing down here at once!" He fired a
    round at the orbital, the slug bouncing off the heat shield with a
    dull thunk. Lipton hurriedly closed the hatch and send the craft
    into the sky, heading toward the coast.
         Cromwell turned the gun on Doug and fired. Doug lunged back
    and away from Cromwell, putting the cone­shaped top between them.
    There was a loud thud and the sound of someone hitting the ground,
    and he thought, Goddamn, he killed Janet! He peeked over the cone
    and saw Janet standing over Cromwell, who was face down on the
    ground. Janet was holding a large rock.
         "Do what you have to do," she called up to him. "I'll make
    sure I haven't killed him."
         "Why don't you just hit him a few more times," Doug said.
         "That would be murder."
         Doug shrugged, and resumed his task.
         By the time he had dismantled the entire defense system and
    transferred it and a spare energy supply over to the village,
    Lipton was back with the orbiter for another load. "The skikes are
    close," he told Doug. "They'll be here before I'm back again.
    How's it going here?"
         "I'm having problems. I can't mount the guns as solidly as
    they should be, so the targeting is going to have to continually
    recalibrate itself."
         "What does that mean?"
         "It's going to be slow and inaccurate."
         "Well, it'll be better than nothing."
         Doug shrugged.
         Somebody called out a warning. Doug and Lipton swung around,
    saw a skike just outside the village fence. It was quietly walking
    along the perimeter. Colonists were running toward it with their
    crossbows, and Lipton was going for a rifle. Doug muttered, and
    hurriedly tried to finish what he was doing. The next time he
    looked up the skike had retreated off into the jungle with several
    arrow shafts sticking out of its legs. Testing us, he thought.
    Seeing if we'll strike it with lightening.
         There was more yelling from another side of the village.
    Several more skikes were strolling along the outside of the fence
    to the west. Lipton went running across the village but Doug waved
    him down. "Don't worry about it!"
         "What?" Lipton said.
         "Get the rest of this load in the orbiter and don't worry
    about it."
         Lipton nodded, and ran off.
         Doug hurriedly finished up his connections and then climbed
    down the tower. Next he had to hook up the power supplies and get
    the computers going. A few of the colonists yelled as one of the
    skikes, angry about being pelted with arrows, began digging under
    the fence. "Lipton!" Doug yelled.
         "What?" Lipton was helping several pregnant women into the
    orbiter's hatch.
         "There's one over there have to worry about."
         Lipton wordlessly picked up his rifle and ran. A few minutes
    later heavy booms rolled across the village. There were screams.
    Doug looked around and saw that there were several more around the
    fence, on all sides. Many of them were digging. Doug looked at his
    rifle which was on the ground a few feet away, but he decided
    against it. He couldn't shoot all of them. He had to finish what
    he was doing here and now.
         Jahk, the warrior, blasted away at one of the beasts with the
    rifle Doug had given him. Kinjon was on the other side of the
    village, blasting away. They were blowing holes in their village
    fence as they aimed for the skikes beyond. Doug forced himself to
    look down, to concentrate on his work. It was impossible, he kept
    on looking up.
         One skike broke ground inside the fence about 40 meters away
    from Doug, and it was immediately surrounded by colonists. It
    sliced several of them to pieces as Doug watched. He couldn't
    stand it anymore, he grabbed his rifle and ran out to it. It
    followed several of the colonists as they ran, and then turned and
    seemed to study Doug as Doug aimed the rifle. Then it jumped, and
    Doug blasted as it hurled at him in mid­air. He had to jump to one
    side to avoid it landing on him. He shot it again to make sure it
    was dead, then ran back to the tower and the computer system
    underneath.
         Five more connections and it was done. Now it needed to be
    recalibrated. The skikes were attacking too soon! There wasn't
    time. Doug turned it on, and set it to recalibrate on anything
    that moved. At the last moment he realized it would be firing on
    the colonists as well.
         From the top of the tower came a rapid staccato of stunning
    blasts, and dirt and fire sprayed out from the impact points,
    killing at least two warriors and wounding a skike. Doug shut it
    down and shouted, "Run toward me! Run for the center of the
    village! Run, now! Now! Move it! Mooove your f***ing asses!"
         More skikes were breaking through the ground. Some of the
    colonists understood and ran, some didn't. Doug couldn't risk
    leaving it off any longer, the skikes would overrun the village.
    He turned it back on and watched, grimacing. The weapons system
    blazed and thundered, rapid fire, and he saw Lipton leap for
    cover. There was a burst near him, but it didn't hit. Thank god it
    wasn't calibrated, Doug thought. He began working with it,
    pointing out to the computer the differences between skikes and
    men, and with more and more accuracy it began shooting at only the
    skikes, and hitting them too.
         It took a while, but Lipton managed to crawl back to the
    orbiter. He tried to shout something to Doug, but Doug couldn't
    hear it above the blasts. Over the next few minutes the firing
    slowed as it ran short of targets.
         "The orbiter!" Lipton was shouting. "Will it fire on the
    orbiter?"
         Doug shook his head. He'd already locked that out of the
    computer.
         Lipton stuffed as many more women that would fit, ran out of
    women, then stuffed in a few of the younger men. The orbiter was
    jammed. It was never meant to hold that many people. Lipton waved
    at Doug and closed the hatch. The defense system paused for a
    moment as the orbiter lifted into the sky, then resumed with new
    energy as a hoard of the beasts charged out of the jungle and,
    piling one on top of the other, crushed the fence. The computer
    control was more accurate than Doug expected, it killed the skikes
    as fast as they could show themselves. For ten minutes the skikes
    poured in and died, then another charge came from another
    direction, and those skikes poured in and died. Forty­five minutes
    later they pulled back, retreating, and for the first time in
    almost two hours the defense system fell silent.
         Doug checked the power supplies. They were taking up most of
    the flyer's deck space ­­­ the flier was floating alongside the
    tower and moored to it like a boat at a dock. The supplies were
    drained all the way down to 23%, but were recharging. Thank god
    they retreated, Doug thought. Another half an hour and the guns
    would have stopped firing for the lack of power.
         The sun slowly sank out of sight, and Doug took two of the
    flier's emergency flair globes and released them into the sky. It
    was enough to cast everything in a pale glow for most of the
    night. Next, he hooked the flier's power supply in line with the
    others to help speed up the recharge. He really didn't have any
    other choice.
         The defense system fired. Doug jumped, startled, and looked
    in the direction it had fired. At first he didn't see anything,
    but then he realized he was looking too far away. Ten meters in
    front of him there was a hole in the ground. The defense system
    had caught a skike coming up from a burrow. This far in? he
    thought. They can dig right up to the base of the tower!? Goddamn
    it!
         Jahk was not far away. He was looking at the hole too.
    "They're digging up underneath us," Doug said to him. "Get
    everyone up on the roofs of your huts, and get as many up into the
    tower as you can." Jahk nodded and started yelling orders.
         Lipton returned in the orbiter and picked up another load. He
    was fitting more in than he or Doug thought they would, but the
    flight was taking longer. "That island is beautiful," Lipton said.
    "It's a wonder why they didn't settle there in the first place."
         "They wanted room to grow, and no one knew about the skikes."
         "Well, you were right about the island."
         It wasn't much of a comfort. Doug had known all along he was
    right ­­­ he'd been there. Now it was a question of whether or not
    he would live to see it again.
         Lipton finished loading up the orbiter and was off. Doug
    watched the luminous trail as it shot across the night sky,
    wishing he was on it this time. Then he thought about Janet and
    Cromwell in the capsule, and realized they were over there without
    a defense system. He climbed into the flier and turned on the
    communications unit, and called out his wife's name.
         "Doug! Thank god!" she said immediately.
         "How're you holding up over there?"
         "The jungle is one big mass of skikes!" she said. "They're so
    thick around the capsule you can't see the ground. Doug, how are
    you going to get us out of here?"
         That's a good question, he thought. "Is there any danger of
    them getting inside? They shouldn't be able to get through that
    metal alloy with anything less than a laser torch."
         "We're safe so far," she said. "Just scared and feeling
    trapped."
         "How's Cromwell's head?"
         "He's got a mild concussion, Douglass, but you didn't answer
    my question."
         "I'm busy keeping skikes out of the village grounds, Janet.
    You're just going to have to sit tight, you're safer than anyone
    right now." The defense system fired practically at the tower's
    foundation, the beam so close to the flier that it gave Doug
    radiation burns. A skike writhed in death spasms in a hole almost
    straight down. "Gotta go," he told his wife, and turned off the
    communicator. "Jahk!" he yelled. "They're going to be coming up
    right under us! They'll be coming up inside the huts!" And on the
    other side of huts, too, he thought. The defense system won't be
    able to shoot at something it doesn't see.
         The defense system fired once, twice, again almost at the
    base of the tower. Some of the colonists were yelling; a skike had
    come up between two of the huts. As it wandered out and in sight
    of the defense system it was killed.
         Doug eyed the huts. Jahk was jumping from one roof to
    another, yelling. There was muted screams from inside some of
    them. As Doug watched, the hut that Jahk was standing on collapsed
    and fell. A skike grabbed his frantic body and pulled him
    underground before the defense system could strike.
         "Jahk!" Doug yelled, but his voice was drowned out by the
    blasts. He'd raised his rifle, but there was nothing to shoot at.
    There was nothing he could do but fidget.
         The tower wavered. He looked down, seeing nothing . . . but
    Doug knew. This was it. The skikes were under the foundation. He
    looked up to see a few more of the huts fall. Yes, the skikes were
    learning all right. They were learning how to win.
         There was a jolt that nearly threw Doug down to the ground.
    Even over the blasts he could hear the sharp cracking of timbers.
    Doug leapt into the flier and began ripping connections loose,
    yelling for the men who were up there with him to climb in. Only
    two made it, then the foundation sank, undermined, and the tower
    was falling. The top of it hit the flier on it's way down, sending
    it spinning out of control across the village. Doug and the two
    other men hung on. Doug's rifle flew right off of his shoulder and
    down to the ground, lost.
         The gyros kicked in and stopped the spinning, leaving him
    dazed. The defense system was dead, but there were still blasts. A
    few men were still left with rifles, leaping from hut to hut and
    firing away. Gotta get them on board, he thought, and staggered to
    the controls of the flier. Flashing lights indicated damage. Just
    keeping the flier in the air was draining the power supply at an
    alarming rate. Hell, Doug thought. Hell and damn.
         He nudged the flier toward the closest huts, collecting
    several men, then over to the common building where there were
    several more. "Hang from the sides," Doug told them after no more
    could fit in the flier. "Just hang on." There was an electric
    whining sound from somewhere in the flier, and he could smell hot
    metal. The thing was not meant to hold this much weight. Hell with
    it, he thought. Better to die of a fall than to be chopped up by
    those beasts. He looked down to see the village grounds were black
    and swarming with them, indistinct and nightmarish in the pale
    light of the dying flair globes. Maybe, he thought, if we fall on
    one we'll take it with us.
         There was a buzzing and a large red light flashed on the
    control panel. The flier was now on emergency auxiliary power and
    was demanding that he land immediately. Yeah, right, Doug thought.
    Land where? Instead, he sent the craft up into the sky, a platform
    jammed with men, men hanging over the sides, men hanging from men.
    Doug could hardly move. They got up above the level of the flair
    globes and drifted out over the jungle, which was black and
    crawling with shapes. The whole skike population of the continent
    must be here now, he thought. One good fusion blast and maybe the
    mainland could be colonized. The thought was almost funny. If
    there was a fusion self-destruct on the flier he would have used
    it. Instead, the best he could hope for is to smash a couple of
    them when the flier dropped.
         One of the men hanging onto the side lost his grip and fell.
    He dropped silently, lost into the murk of the night. Doug
    continued, uninterrupted. This is it, he was thinking. This is how
    it happens. Death by falling, sudden and quiet. I won't yell when
    it happens, I won't close my eyes. I'll go face down staring at
    the ground.
         Another red light on the panel was flashing erratically,
    trying to get his attention. He glanced down and saw it was a
    proximity alert. Proximity? he thought, confused. He was certain
    it was a malfunction. He looked around doubtfully for something
    close to them and saw the orbiter approaching, door open. Lipton
    was yelling, "Be careful! Climb in one at a time!" He moved the
    door right up to the edge of the flier and the men began climbing
    in, turning and helping others in. Doug watched with a stunned
    calmness. He had been prepared to die. He was still prepared to
    die. Finally it was just down to himself and another man, and that
    man was Kinjon. Kinjon gripped Doug's arm with a strong hand and
    pulled. They weren't in the orbiter longer than a minute when the
    flier dropped. It just disappeared silently and was gone.
         Doug looked after it with a sense of wonder.

                                     #

         It was a bright, windy day when they returned to the
    mainland. They avoided the village, not really wanting to see it,
    and circled around from behind, coming down carefully through the
    trees. There was not a skike in sight.
         Janet and Cromwell were outside the capsule, waiting
    nervously. They scrambled aboard as soon as the hatch opened.
    "Come on!" Cromwell was saying. "Get this damn thing in the air.
    Let's get moving!"
         Lipton stared at him with hatred but remained silent.
         Doug disabled the controls with a password and said, "We came
    here for something besides you."
         "What?" Janet said. "For Selene? She's still in stasis,
    nothing's going to bother her."
         "Yeah." Doug and Lipton climbed down out of the orbiter
    without an explanation, and walked over to the capsule. Doug
    unlocked the door and they entered.
         The automed unit was warm, quiet. Inside part of it was
    Selene, laying in a dreamless, timeless solitude. Both men stood
    in front of it for a few minutes, then Lipton began taking off his
    clothes.
         The automed held room for one more.
         They didn't say anything to each other. They just shook
    hands. Lipton climbed in and it cycled shut, and Doug waited
    around to make sure he went into stasis without any problems. I'll
    see you again, Doug thought. When Technica comes back, I'll say
    goodbye. Not now.
         He left the capsule, locking the door behind him. Lipton
    wanted to be with his wife. He wouldn't have survived the next six
    years without her, knowing she was all alone in this jungle, a
    thousand kilometers away. Doug had approved. If he'd had Selene
    for a wife, he would have done the same.
         Doug's wife was in the orbiter, waiting. He climbed in and
    shut the door, and stood staring at her where she sat, far away
    from Cromwell. He didn't say anything. He hadn't made his mind up
    about her, yet.
         It was Cromwell he spoke to. "I am now in charge," he said.
         "That's what you­­­­"
         "Shut up!" Doug yelled.
         Cromwell blustered. "If you think­­­­"
         "Shut up!"
         "I am­­­­"
         "Shut up!" Doug approached him menacingly. "From now on you
    do exactly what I say, and right now I want you to keep your
    goddamned mouth shut."
         Cromwell swallowed and looked down at his scuffed shoes. He
    remained silent. He didn't look up.
         Doug returned to the front, unlocked the controls, and sent
    the orbiter off toward the sea.

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