Alien Bounty (7 page)

"If you build most of your cities underground, it only makes sense to put your major transportation systems there as well. This particular train runs on the surface for short periods of time, but since it's night up there, you still won't see much."

McCade nodded, kicked his feet up onto the opposite bench, and watched the rock walls flash by until he drifted off to sleep.

"Well, this is it," Neem, said cheerfully. "After this morning, phase one of the testing will be out of the way."

"Or I'll be dead," McCade answered as he fastened the last seal on his cool suit. The long train ride had left him tired and grumpy. After the train trip he'd been transferred here, to the Wa'na, or sacred testing grounds.

He was in a rather Spartan dressing room at the moment. The only furnishings consisted of an Il Ronnian water shrine and a table heaped high with weapons. The shrine was a scaled biosphere that depicted a natural spring bubbling up between lichen-covered rocks.

The walls were made of bare durocrete and were completely featureless except for an ominous-looking metal door. When he stepped through it the testing would begin.

Neem had already explained that like the first phase of testing, the second involved three separate tests, each corresponding to one aspect of life. The first, and the one he would tackle today, was the physical. It included athletic ability, the martial arts, and an appreciation of physical beauty.

The second level was mental. It included the ability to reason, academic as well as experiential learning, and the ability to manipulate the environment through use of tools.

The third level was the spiritual, and it involved a mastery of both the first and second levels, but a mastery that incorporated certain concepts. Primary among them was love and compassion.

But love and compassion were far from McCade's mind as he approached the table and eyed the weapons laid out on its surface. He'd been told to expect physical combat, but that's all he knew, and it made the choice a difficult one. After all, depending on who your enemy is, some weapons are more effective than others.

But he'd always found that slug guns serve a variety of needs, so he left the Molg-Sader belted around his waist and checked to make sure that he had two extra magazines.

Of course, energy weapons have advantages too, so McCade hedged his bet and picked up a brand-new blast rifle. He noticed it was marine issue and wondered how it had fallen into Il Ronnian hands. Whatever the answer, he knew he wouldn't like it.

Then he passed a bandolier of energy paks over his head and decided to call it a day. There were lots of other weapons he could have chosen, everything from frag grenades to rocket launchers, but each additional weapon would add weight and slow him down. So if the Il Ronnians had a main battle tank waiting for him out there, he was just plain out of luck.

McCade recognized Teeb's voice as it flooded in over some hidden speaker. "It is time for the candidate to enter the Wa'na. Please enter through the metal door. Good luck, Ilwig McCade.

Much to McCade's surprise, Teeb sounded as if he meant it.

McCade had his hand on the door when he remembered something. Acting on impulse he returned to the water shrine and intoned the traditional prayer. "As you flow through heaven and earth, flow also through me, watering my spirit and making it grow."

As he opened the door and went through he missed Neem's smile and the words that went with it. "Assuming you survive you'll make one hell of an Il Ronnian someday. Good luck!"

McCade squinted into bright sunlight. Sheer canyon walls rose on every side exposing layers of sediment stained here and there with streaks of red.

An island of solid rock stood in front of him. It had once forced a mighty river to divide itself in half forming two channels, one right and one left.

The river was gone now, but rocks both large and small remained as silent witnesses to a time when Imantha had been very different. A time when the holy fluid had leaped and splashed its way through the canyon on its journey to a distant sea.

Gravel crunched under McCade's boots as he turned a full circle. He held the blast rifle up and ready. Would his opponent attack without warning? Or would he hear some sort of official statement first?

McCade knew as all bounty hunters did that real violence comes without warning. But when violence has been institutionalized and turned into entertainment, it must be justified and explained for the comfort of those who view it. The violence might otherwise seem primitive and uncivilized, and that would never do.

Knowing this, McCade smiled as a flight of vid cams appeared overhead and Teeb's voice echoed between the canyon walls. "In a moment the first phase of your testing will begin. As you know the test will measure your ability to deal with the physical world. Violence is a part of the physical world and to recover the Vial of Tears you will be forced to fight many battles. So we will confront you with five armed opponents.

"All are humans captured during a raid on one of our planets. You may deal with them in whatever fashion you think appropriate. All are experienced warriors, all are well armed, and all will go free if they kill you. Do you understand?"

"I don't want to seem ungrateful or anything," McCade said dryly, "but there's no need to be so generous with opponents. Wouldn't one be enough?"

"For most candidates it would be," Teeb replied evenly. "But you are a professional killer. So to ensure a fair contest we gave you five opponents. Do you have any other comments or questions?"

Although he didn't agree with Teeb's description of him as a "professional killer," McCade decided to let it go.

"Nope, I think that about covers it. It's good to know that you're keeping everything fair."

"Very well then. Your opponents have been released about two of your miles down canyon. The rest is up to you."

With that the vid cams darted in every direction and took up new positions that would allow them to cover the action.

McCade began to run. He chose the right channel, dodged between boulders as he searched for a hiding place. Given the odds he'd prefer to hole up somewhere and let them come to him. All he needed was some cover and a rear exit. Unfortunately he didn't see anything that even came close.

He rounded the other end of the island and came to a sudden stop. There was an open stretch up ahead where the two channels came back together, and while some large boulders dotted its surface, they didn't offer much cover.

Beyond that some upthrust rock formations had forced the river to divide once again and form a number of smaller channels. The river was gone but the channels weren't and they formed a natural maze. Not the sort of place where McCade wanted to play hide and seek with five killers.

He turned and ran full speed at the island. As he ran McCade picked a path through the jumble of rocks and headed for the top in a series of long jumps.

From up there he'd be able to see them coming and establish a good angle of fire as well. They'd have him trapped of course, but there's no such thing as a perfect plan.

It wasn't long before the easy jumps gave way to a serious climb. The ancient river had worn the boulders smooth and footholds were hard to come by. For every two feet of progress made, it seemed as if one was lost.

Meanwhile there were five killers headed his way. He wouldn't know they were there until a slug took him between the shoulder blades. He wanted to look but couldn't. Looking would waste precious time.

He told himself that they'd come slowly. They'd be on the lookout for an ambush and their progress would be slowed by the same maze of channels that he'd decided to avoid.

His arguments made sense, but there was still a hard itchy feeling between his shoulder blades as McCade pulled himself over the top and rolled out of sight.

Moving on hands and knees, McCade hid behind a jumble of rocks, unslung the blast rifle, and flipped the sight to high mag. He swept the weapon from left to right and checked for signs of movement.

Except for shimmering heat waves and the occasional bird, everything was still. A Fueek bird flapped its way upward to soar against the violet sky. McCade remembered the great Ilwik's love for Fueek birds and decided that this one was a good omen.

It was suddenly warmer inside his cool suit and McCade turned over to check for damage. Sure enough, there was a four-inch tear just above the right knee. He could feel cool air spilling out when he held his hand over the hole. Damn!

If he tried to repair the tear, his opponents might break into the open when he wasn't looking. And if he didn't repair the tear, he'd run the very real risk of heat prostration.

McCade swore under his breath as he opened a pocket on his left sleeve and withdrew a small patch kit. He tore it open with fumbling fingers and spilled precut patches all over the ground.

Picking up a rectangular patch with one hand he used the other to squeeze bonding material onto its inside surface. The moment the entire thing was covered McCade slapped the patch into place and felt the temperature begin to drop. It worked!

Then he caught movement from the corner of his eye. Two of the hovering vid cams suddenly jumped upward and spun toward the rocky maze. Someone knew something he didn't.

Grabbing his blast rifle, McCade rolled over to peer through the sight. One, two, three, wait a minute, yes, there they were, four and five. The suited figures had just emerged from the maze and were working their way up channel toward the open space. They were out of range, but it gave McCade a chance to check out the opposition.

Number one was a woman. Her shoulder-length black hair swayed around her face as she moved and her weapon was pointed at the ground. She had the point, which suggested a leader, either elected or self-appointed.

But wait a minute. Look at number two. Was he wrong, or was number two's weapon aimed at number one's back? Number two was a hefty man with a large bald spot and a hard face. What was this? Mutiny? Or something else?

McCade swept his sight across the other three. There were two men and a woman. As they advanced they were close enough to communicate but too far apart to nail with a single burst. Very cool, very professional. These people knew what they were doing.

McCade felt the muscle in his left cheek begin to twitch. Okay, three, four, and five were hard bodies who knew one end of a blaster from the other. But what about numbers one and two?

Maybe two was just a wee bit careless about the way he held his weapon, or maybe there had been a falling out among thieves, or maybe number one was being
forced
to take the point. She'd draw the first fire and give the others a chance to find cover. If so, then number two was the leader, and a prime target.

Number one paused at the edge of the open area clearly hesitant to cross it. But number two gave her a shove and she stumbled forward, almost falling before regaining her balance. And number two was right behind her as she ran from one scrap of cover to the next, his weapon centered on her back.

McCade found himself wishing for a cigar and forced the thought away. It was time to reduce the odds a little. He seated the rifle butt against his right shoulder, flicked the safety off, and centered the sight on a patch of open ground.

This particular patch was directly in front of number four's position. In order to reach the next rock four would have to pass through it, and when he did, McCade would nail him.

It would be a simple shot. Energy weapons aren't subject to the effects of wind or gravity as are slug throwers. Of course they don't pack much kinetic energy either, so if you're trying to drop a charging Envo Beast, you might choose something with a little more wallop. But an energy beam does go where you aim it and for this situation the blast rifle was ideal.

Number four took off like a jackrabbit and ran right into the energy beam. It sliced down through his left shoulder and cut diagonally across his chest. The two halves of his body separated in a bright shower of blood.

A vid cam swooped down for a better shot as McCade turned his attention to number five. Something winked to the right and fire splashed the rock by his head. Number five was shooting back!

McCade rolled left as another energy beam screamed through the space he'd just vacated. Number five was a good shot.

McCade eased the barrel of his weapon through a gap in the rocks, caught a flash of movement, and fired. His energy beam punched a hole through number five's right leg, causing her to stumble and fall.

Using her hands and one good leg, number five managed to drag herself behind a ledge.

McCade let her go. Two down and three to go.

Swinging his weapon left, McCade searched for numbers one and two. He just caught a glimpse of them as they made it to the base of the island. He'd have to stand against the skyline in order to see them and that would provide number three with an opportunity to blow his head off. Where
was
number three anyway?

Conscious that numbers one and two were busily climbing his way, McCade moved to the right. If possible he wanted to find three and deal with him before one and two arrived.

He could feel the seconds ticking away as he quartered the ground below. Each second brought numbers one and two closer and increased the odds against him.

He was just about to give up when he saw a flash of white toward the top of his scope.

McCade tilted the rifle down and found his cross hairs centered on number three's back. The bastard was running away! His finger touched the firing stud and stopped. Later he might regret the decision, but McCade couldn't bring himself to shoot a man in the back.

He turned and was just starting to get up when numbers one and two popped up from behind a jumble of rocks. They were fast!

Something snatched the blast rifle from his hands and McCade dived sideways hoping to ruin their aim.

He hit hard and felt rather than saw the bullets that followed along behind. They spanged off the surrounding rocks as he rolled onto his back and felt the slug gun fill his hand. It came up and he saw a white suit fill his sight.