Dominant Species Volume Two -- Edge Effects (Dominant Species Series) (29 page)

Her mind drifted then settled on the ugly images of the bastards
who’d thrown her out of the shuttle, and of Ed Smith, who’d made it happen. She
remembered the nasty one’s little grin before he'd kicked her out into space,
without remorse or mercy.

The injustice of it hurt the most.

“I told
you this was a bad idea, now she
's
stuck . .
.”

She couldn’t decide which jungle was the most loathsome or whose
monsters the most despicable.

The sound of thunder rumbled, and a few minutes later the first
raindrops pattered on the yurt. She hoped the leaves would keep most of it out.

Much later, with the sound of buzzing, clicking and distant
thunder around her, she put aside the images of revenge she’d conjured so
carefully, and slept.

* * *

 
She awoke to fog-cloaked silence that clung wet and cool on the
leaves and branches. It was time to move, time to trudge, time to stay alive
another day.

By the time she’d gone a hundred meters, her clothes were soaked
through as if she’d been rained on. It didn’t matter. It was only important
that she make it to the clearing. The sleeves of her jumpsuit were torn to
ribbons, and the scratches on her arms stung when she pushed the branches
away. The legs were ripped too and her scraped and welted knees burst out of
the torn material with each step.

The sun poured its heat into the green like warm water. An hour later
her sweat had soaked her clothing.

None of that mattered.

As she pushed her way through, she noticed a brightening ahead, a
slight lightening to the foliage. Without thinking, she moved faster toward the
light, her legs pumping and stomping, her arms pushing and tearing the foliage
out of the way. She ducked and grunted and twisted her way through the green.
It was there, her clearing, and light and open space would be hers once more.

She burst into light.

The panorama before her crushed her with its silent majesty like
the hand of God.

Jungle. Endless, rolling, green jungle stretched before her into
Infinity.

She was standing on a precipice overlooking the most beautiful
valley she’d ever seen—and she’d missed the clearing completely.

“Oh no . . . .oh no . . . no . . .”

She felt herself go limp as if her bones had suddenly dissolved.
Her grip on the branch relaxed and faded to nothing, and she went slowly to her
knees. She doubled over until her head rested gently on a wet and mossy patch
of ground.

She groaned a long deep groan that started in her middle. She felt
it rather than heard it, and it lingered on the air around her.

“No . . .”

Much later, she rose and stared out over the green; the hot, red
sun beating against the side of her head.

She wondered how long it would take to starve herself to death in
her present condition—a week, maybe ten days. She was still strong. Maybe
longer. If she could find a cliff, she could throw herself over it. That would
work. She was high up, maybe there was one close by.

When she walked a few meters to her left in search of just such a
precipice, she saw the clearing.

It was just a half kilometer away, the northeastern-most corner of
it, flat and debris-strewn, open and airy, the ground gray-green with dead plant
stuff. Beautiful.

She made a sound like a whimper.

She tore through the foliage, whacking at the branches and vines
with her arms and legs and head. She pressed herself through it, feeling like
one of the jungle’s insects; scrambling and crawling, forcing her way.

When she burst into the light this time, the panorama she saw was
the vast, defoliated plains and the plant-free hills and valleys of the
installation.

There was a low hill just to the west, and she started up it. When
she got to the top and looked out, she thought she could see the distant specks
of the shelters against the far western perimeter, barely visible in the
shimmering heat.

She grinned like a lunatic at the sight, then finally laughed out
loud.

“There! Oh there . . . you are!”

The sun was high and hot; too hot to hike in without benefit of
the jungle’s shade—and she wanted to time her arrival at sunset and sneak into
the clinic under the cover of darkness. Best to wait. She estimated it would
take her four or five hours to cross. She checked her watch. With Verde’s
longer days, she could wait another eight or nine hours and still have four
hours of daylight. She could re-group, rest and eat before heading out.

She could almost feel the shower caressing her face, and the
thought of a mere four-hour stroll without vines and branches in her face made
her smile.

19

His work was at least neat, she
had to say that about it. There might not be any substance to it, but it was
neat. The work areas were laid out well and were orderly; the containers
holding his samples stacked and uncluttered.

“I didn’t think I’d see you for a few days at least,” Joe said.

“I’m fine. Not perfect. But good enough to work,” Rachel replied,
eyeing the Petri dishes lined up on the bench. She picked one up and spun it
slowly in her fingers.

“What have you found? Anything interesting?”

“There’s a wide variety of microscopic life in the soil and most
of the bacteria cultures easily,” he said matter-of-factly. ”You can see that
right there.”

“And?”

“I’ve found at least twenty separate protozoan forms in the
standing water and taken pictures of those so far.”

“What kind of toxicology profiles do they have? Any hazard
matches?”

“Well, I haven’t done those yet.”

“Ummm . . .”

“I thought you might want to run some samples through the
processor first is all.”

“Ummm . . . bacteria typing? Anything there?”

“I haven’t done those either yet.”

“Well, the place is orderly,” she said cheerfully. “I like that.”

“Thanks.”

“Ummm . . .”

She picked up another Petri dish and studied it. The surface of
the agar was spotted with white, brown and yellow patches, round and raised.
One spot was deep purple-red; the color of fresh blood.

“What’s this one? Where're your notes?”

He reached for his pad and turned it on. When he found his notes,
he handed it over to her. She looked at the screen, scrolling through with her
finger. He’d coded each dish with a number and had constructed an index
describing the place, date and time of each sample taken. This was okay. She
looked up the number forty, the one for the dish she was after, and read its
source. “Water run-off from the shelter tops?”

“If that’s number . . .”

“Forty,” she said.

“Right. Forty. I found that one and a couple of others where the
shelters drains run into the ground and forms a trough. You know.”

“Ummm . . .”

Rachel scanned the neat rows of Petri dishes until she spotted
one other, then another of them with purple-red, perfectly round patches in
them. They matched up to the other numbers indicating the same conditions for
the samples.

“Have you looked at this red stuff?”

“Not yet.”

“Ummm . . .”

“Do it first and let me know what the profiles look like.”

“Okay.”

“Then profile the protozoans. Any encapsulated or encysted forms?

“Uhh . . .”

“If you see any that you think might be encapsulated or in a
waiting state, let me know.”

“You’re the boss.”

“You know why those might be important, don’t you?” He knitted his
brow and looked confused.

“I’m not sure,” he said.

“The encapsulated forms might be waiting for a host. Chances are
fairly good that we’ll find hazardous chemistry in anything that looks like
it’s napping in an environment that ought to support it. It’s using the
environment as a vector, waiting to jump to another more nourishing
environment.”

“Right.”

“Keep up the good work.”

“I’ll try.”

The work was marginal at best. They were still underequipped, and
he didn’t know what he was doing, but he was orderly and his record keeping was
good enough. He seemed to follow directions well.

“I’m going back into the jungle for some more samples,” she said.
“I’ll call you if I need you.”

She packed up her things and a few minutes later, started out.
When she opened the door, she nearly ran into John Soledad.

“Whoops!” she said.

“Sorry.”

“Hi.”

“Hi.”

“What can I do for you?”

“Are you the biologist?”

“Yeah.”

“You got a minute?”

“Not really.”

“I found something you might be interested in—out in the green.”

“What kind of something?” she asked.

* * *

Her
voice is heaven . . . he
thought
and was suddenly struck dumb by it.

It was as if he could feel every inch of her by just standing
close to her. Every strong line, the deep curve of her back, the smoothness of
her shoulders, the moist warmth of her thighs filling her cottons, all of
her—came to him over some erotic ether. Her voice washed over him like warm
milk. The effect took him completely off guard. He coughed.

“It’ll take . . . a . . . more than a minute to describe it.”

Rachel considered him. Amateurs were continually bringing new and
exciting and
heretofore-unknown-and-just-fascinating
discoveries to the science. She’d seen it many times. The
discovery usually turned out to be something new only to the amateur
discoverer. But here on this woolly planet, almost everything was new.
Besides, he was cute.

“Sure. Come on in. I’ve always got time for a new
something
.”

She put her things down by the door and led the way over to the
coffee pot. She poured him a cup then held it—and her other empty hand out for
him to shake at the same time. It was awkward, and she grinned at herself, but
he managed to get a good grip on both.

“I’m Rachel Sanders.
Biologist
Grade III
.” She stressed the title
just a little to make a point she hoped he’d get.

“John Soledad.
Shuttle
Operator
II
."

“Nice to meet you.”

“Likewise.”

She poured a cup for herself just to be friendly.

“Now, what’s this thing you found?” she said swinging one full hip
onto a lab stool.

“I’ve been doing some exploring on my own, you know—in my free
time.”

Yeah,
yeah . . .

“Ummmmm . . . I see . . .”

“I more or less commandeer the shuttle for a few hours at a time
and take a look around. I’m not supposed to do it, but it’s about the only thing
there is to do for fun.”

“Naughty boy,” she said flatly.

“Yeah. I think this planet is really great. Anyway, a few days ago
I was out west of the perimeter about twenty kilometers, and I noticed this
thing at the base of an outcropping.”

Zzzzzz .
. . .good thing you’re cute.