Crisis On Doona (3 page)

Once Todd headed the
Albatross
back into space, the two men turned the external camera onto their prize, and irised down the lens to counteract the glare. There was a silence and an air of angry disbelief as they stared at the object the tractors had brought in. It was cylindrical in shape, the length of their own scout, and not unlike the escape shuttle they had mistaken it for. What their efforts had acquired was a full-sized orbital beacon, an unmanned buoy similar to the ones hanging above and below the proscribed system, still screaming out its Mayday message on the
Albatross’s
receiver as they stood staring at it. The needles on the VU meters leaped back and forth in their glass settings.

“So we’ve been suckered into an interdicted system by a recorded Mayday,” Todd said, unbelievingly. “I’ll report this illicit use all the way to ...” He paused, since the top of Spacedep was Al Landreau and he knew what short shrift that report would get. “We have fallen into deep kimchee, my friend. I should have listened to you.”

“No, friend Zodd, you listened to a distress call and acted conscientiously,” Hrriss said with a heavy sigh. Neither needed to discuss the ramifications of this.

“Let’s get this sucker hauled in and see if we can salvage that Mayday beacon. That’ll add credibility to this incident.”

“Good thinking, Zodd,” and Hrriss programmed the winch for a slow wind while Todd monitored the progress from the external camera.

“Hold it!” Todd held up one hand. “There’s something attached to it. Oh-ho! Double trouble. Did we record the capture? Good. Unless I’m vastly mistaken there’s a device riding along a very suspicious-looking thickening of the longitudinal spar. That thing is rigged to blow on contact!”

“Rrrreelease,” Hrriss said, almost spitting in disgust at the stratagem. “Can you get a close recording of that section?”

“I have so done.” Todd was immensely satisfied by that much of this episode, but as Hrriss plotted their course out of the area, his elation drained from him. “Someone’s been getting awful clever, Hrriss. Our course was known from the time we left Doona, so there was plenty of time to set this up where we’d stumble into the trap on our way back from Hrretha.”

“All too trrrue.” Hrriss nodded, his expression as bleak as his friend’s. Even the markings on his intelligent felinoid face seemed to have faded in his concern.

“I could wish boils on the hide of whoever perpetrated this. We could have been killed!”

“Waz that the object? To kill us? Or to lure us into interdicted space?”

The eyes of the two friends met
—
the yellow-green and the clear blue.

“I know someone who wouldn’t shed a tear at my demise,” Todd said grimly.

“I have similar well-wishers,” Hrriss replied, tapping the console with the tips of his claws in a rhythmic fashion.

“Our deaths wouldn’t mean as much as our broaching interdicted space,” Todd began, rubbing his chin. Stubble was developing, and there were moments, like this, when he wondered what he’d look like with a full beard, or at least sufficient face hair to make him more Hrruban.

“But not only is there prrroof of our samarrritanism, but also I, Hrriss, made all the vocal contacts.”

Todd dismissed that notion. “Everyone knows we’re together, so I’ve certainly been wherever you were, legal or not. What I don’t understand is exactly why the tactic was planned in this fashion. Was killing the real end? Or discrediting us?”

The two exchanged few words on the rest of the journey back to Doona. Both of them were deep in thought as how best to mitigate their situation. Violating one of the main stipulations of the very agreement they were hoping to see renewed this year was not good, however inadvertent.

“Have you convinced yourself that the recording is enough, Hrriss?” Todd asked after they had identified themselves to the Doona/Rrala buoy.

“Our people will believe us.”

“Let’s devoutly hope that’s enough. Too bad that false beacon didn’t blow up. We could at least have brought a section of it home as additional proof.”

“We
do
warn everyone that there are bogus Maydays out there!”

“That is obligatory. Bogus or not, we were in the right to investigate,” Hrriss said one more time. “A cry for help from other space travelers is not ignored with impunity.”

As soon as they landed the
Albatross
back on Doona, they contacted the tower. Linc Newry was on duty.

“Can you rustle your stumps, Linc?” Todd asked. “We got an official report to deliver.”

“Official? Huh? Nothing to do with the Hunt, is it?”

“Not really, but it’d be great if we could get through landing procedures and decontam and get the Hunt properly organized,” Todd said with an encouraging grin.

“I’m coming,” Linc said, and obviously switched to a handset for he continued talking. “As you’re just back from that Hrrethan shindig, I think it’ll be okay if I just seal the lock on the Albie and we can do the decontam and stuff when the Hunt’s over.”

So Todd and Hrriss gratefully disembarked, watched the seal be affixed to prevent entry, and, thanking Linc for his courtesy, hurried off to find Ken Reeve and detail the Mayday incident.

“Genuine or not, you have to answer a Mayday signal,” Ken agreed, though the affair obviously troubled him. He smoothed his hair back with a resigned hand. His thick, dark hair had receded above his temples, and lines were beginning to etch the fair, sun-weathered skin near his eyes. He and Todd were of a height now, but often, when he was confused and worried, as he was now, Todd felt himself still the small boy and Ken the adult. Maybe he relied too much on his father’s wisdom where experience and the study of law didn’t provide the answers. Hrriss sat beside him, his yellow-green eyes unwinking as he stared at the floor between his feet. Ken could tell the Hrruban was worried, but he was not as prone to outbursts as his son.

Todd’s eyes were fixed hopefully on his father’s face. Ken shook his head and sighed. “Wise of you, Hrriss, to handle all the oral transmissions. Let’s hope that the pictures of that device and the possibly explosive ribbing show up.” He gave his head another little shake. “Such contingencies will have to be written into the new Treaty, allowing for legitimate rescue efforts and specifying penalties for abuses. I shall suggest the modification myself to Sumitral at Alreldep. But I cannot be easy that the incident was there, waiting to trap the unwary.” He paused again, holding up his hand when Todd opened his mouth. “Were there any other representatives at the Hrrethan ceremonies likely to have taken the same warp jumps you did?”

Todd looked abashed. “Dad, I just wanted to leave. My neck was rubbed raw and it was bad enough those Hrrethans insisted on giving the
Albatross
a clearance ...”

“They insisted?” Ken asked, his expression alert.

“Yes, and we told them that Spacedep had already cleared the
Albatross ...
Oh, I see what you mean. The recorder could have been tampered with there. You think we were to be the victims?”

“We were not the only ship likely to pass that system,” Hrriss said in a slow thoughtful tone. “I will inquirrre. It is worrth that much. And discreetly.” He dropped his jaw at Ken. “When one
is
hunted, one generally senses pursuit.”

“Then I can leave you to mention this to Hrrestan?” Ken asked. Hrriss nodded. “I shall inform Hu Shih. That will satisfy the necessary protocol. Investigations can be initiated ...”

“Just don’t let that sort of time-wasting stuff interfere with the Snake Hunt, will you, Dad?” Todd was clearly apprehensive. “It’s only two weeks away and we’ve a lot to do.”

Ken smiled. “The Snake Hunt is too important to the Doona/Rrala economy to have its leaders absent. I’ll handle all the necessary reportings. And inform Sumitral. He warned me to expect trouble from unlikely areas. Cunning of our detractors, isn’t it, to start a controversy over a samaritan issue! And it has the flavor of something the segregationalists would try.”

“The group that thinks Hrruba is only being friendly to get their claws into the best star systems?” Todd asked with patent distaste.

“Or perrrhaps,” and Hrriss let his fangs show, “it is those who sense we are arming ourselves for the conquest of your home planet.”

“No one takes that foolishness seriously,” Ken said quickly. “You don’t even know where Terra is.”

“Nor you Hrruba,” and Hrriss winked.

Ken and Todd both laughed with their friend, whose full-throated chuckle would have sounded to many like an ominous growl. Laughter eased the tension lines from Ken Reeve’s face.

“Go on, the pair of you. We’ll deal with the matter after the Snake Hunt. Which is going to be brilliant this year, isn’t it?” He pinned the two friends with a mock-stern glare.

“Absolutely!” The friends chorused that assurance and left Ken’s office.

In only a fortnight’s time, Doona would be inundated by foreign dignitaries and guests eager to witness, and participate in, the famed Doonan Snake Hunt. Hundreds of people would converge on the First Villages for the semiannual migration of the giant reptiles, and Todd and Hrriss were in charge of coordinating the Hunt. Which was not so much of a hunt as a controlled traffic along the snakes’ traditional path.

While there had been intense arguments both for and against annihilation of this dangerous species, the conservationists
—
many of them colonists
—
had won. The immense snakes were unique to the planet, but their depredations, which affected only one area of the main continent, could be controlled. The reptiles ranged in size from two- and three-year-old tiddlers of three to five meters in length to immense females, nicknamed Great Big Mommas, growing to twelve to fifteen meters. They had incredible speed and strength and, although they ate infrequently, they had been known to ingest an adult horse or cow in one mouthful. Their vision was so poor that they could not see a man standing motionless a few feet from their blunt snouts, but they would strike at any movement: particularly one that gave off an enticing odor.

Their traditional route from the sea to the plains just happened to lie by the river farms of the settlers where quantities of livestock grazed, too numerous to be shut up during the migration. So the settlers had devised a method of herding the snakes, making certain by a variety of means that few escaped to wreak havoc among the herds and flocks.

At first the settlers resorted to crude methods of keeping the snakes in line, destroying far too many for the conservationists’ peace of mind. Then hunters from other planets learned about the drives, as they were originally called, and begged to join in for the thrill and excitement of adding such a deadly specimen to their trophies. These men also had some excellent suggestions to give the Doona/Rralans, gained from similar drives of dangerous species to which Ken Reeve, Ben Adjei, the colonists’ veterinarian, and Hrrestan listened with interest.

“Make it into a real Hunt,” they were advised. “Attract the thrillseekers and you’ll not only make some money out of it, but you’ll have enough help to keep the snakes on the right track.”

So the Hunt became an organized sporting feature; one which put considerable credit into the colony’s treasury and one which became safe enough to advertise as a spectator sport for those who wanted titillation without danger.

At first, Ken and Hrrestan, with Ben’s advice, organized the Hunt, but gradually, as Todd and Hrriss showed genuine aptitudes as Hunters and leaders, the management had been turned over to them. Much had to be arranged to ensure that injuries were reduced to a minimum; that visitors were always teamed up with experienced Hunters or in safely prepared blinds; that the horses hired out were steady, well-blooded animals, accustomed to snake-stench and less likely to plunge out of control and drop their riders into the maw of waiting Big Mommas. There were hundreds of minor details to be overseen by Todd and Hrriss before Hunt Day.

When Todd and Hrriss got to their office, they found that much had already been put in hand by their assistants, based on assignments and duties from the last Hunt. Scouts had been given their posts in the salt marshes from which the migration began. Every homestead within ten klicks of the long-established route had had fences, walls, and buildings reinforced. “Sighters” who would fly above the swarm and monitor its progress had been chosen and their aerial vehicles serviced. “Lures” had volunteered. Mounted on two-wheeled motorized rough country bikes, they were specially trained to lead maverick snakes back to the main swarm and to kill snakes that could not be turned. Lures usually performed what had become a rite of passage for young Doona/Rralans: capturing or killing two snakes on a Hunt, or succeeding in stealing a dozen eggs from the marsh nests. In fact, this rite had become an honor sought after by hunters of every system. Many now came just to win accolades as proof of courage and to have their names added to this new legend.

Those who did not wish to expose themselves to physical danger were accommodated in snake blinds, built along, but back from, the river trail. From these, spectators could enjoy this unique sight and excitement. The blinds were sturdily constructed of sealed rla wood, strong enough, though in truth any Great Big Momma Snake could have knocked one into splinters with its powerful snout. However, experiments with various odors had proved that a heavy citrus smell liberally poured on the outside of the blind covered the scent of the juicy morsels within and was a powerful deterrent to the snakes.

Twelve Teams of from twenty to forty horsemen and women rode in escort of the snake swarm. Clever riders on the quick, well-trained horses could head off renegades or stragglers, for some of the tiddlers were always breaking off the main group, looking for something to eat. These were considered fair game for Hunters wishing to kill, or capture, in proof of their prowess.