Dominant Species Volume Two -- Edge Effects (Dominant Species Series) (30 page)

Using the whiteboard, he drew it out for her in great detail, both
inside and out. He described the central chamber and the goop and falling into
it. He described how the trap had held him, forced him down deeper. He even
pulled up the leg of his coveralls and showed her a patch of remaining
irritation on one calf. He told her about the live one and how he could tell it
was alive. He punctuated the story with a series of photographs called up on
his pad one at a time.

By the time he was finished, her face was as tight as a drum, and
her brow had knitted itself into just a few hard wrinkles. This was not just
some bug on a leaf he’d found but a major and divergent life form worth a good
hard look. She didn’t have to take her pulse to know it was elevated.

“Can you find these things again—both the dead one and the living
one?”

"Sure."

She popped off the stool like she had a spring on her butt and
swilled down the rest of her coffee. “Let’s go,” she said.

“Now?”

“Now. Let’s go.”

“If you say so.”

"I say so."

She made a quick trip to the backroom and returned with her pack
loaded with tools and instruments.

“I guess you’re prepared for anything,” he said, looking at the
bulging pack.

“Anything at all,” she said flatly.

They got in John’s truck and drove over to the shuttle stop, such
as it was. The condition of it reminded Rachel of what a low-ball, cheap-assed
operation this really was. There was no concrete pad or elevated grate to land
on, just a patch of pounded up dirt and pulverized plant debris. The shuttle
was a mess. Its finish was dull and weathered, and the latches and closures
were scrubbed free of finish by the friction of years of hands touching it,
working it.

“Are you sure this thing is safe?” she asked.

Maybe she
wasn’t prepared for anything after all,
he thought
.

“It’s not much to look at, I know, but the motors are sound and
the suspensors just had a major re-coiling. You’ll be fine.”
  

She climbed on board and took the co-pilot’s seat up front. When
Soledad got in, she noticed that it took him two or three tries to secure the
rear door. She didn’t like that either.

The take-off was smooth, though, and she soon cleansed herself of
her fear in the wash of the pilot’s obvious proficiency and confidence in the
craft’s airworthiness.

“I envy you,” he said, a little loud over the engines.

“Why’s that?” she said amused.

“You’re the real explorers, aren’t you, you biologists?”

“I guess I never really looked at it like that,” she lied. “It’s
just a job to me.” But to the contrary, the smile on her face told the truth.

“Well, I still envy you. I wish I’d had the brains to pursue that
craft myself.”

“Piloting’s no simple thing to master,” she said.

“Yeah, but it doesn’t take real brains and most of the time you
wind up doing just what I’m doing—driving a shuttle and stealing time to get a
glimpse of something exciting.”

“Well, most people would think it was a great way to retire their
debt, I would think.”

“That’s because they’ve never done it for a living,” he offered.

“Got me there,” she replied politely.

They both smiled. And then that thing happened that happens
between male and female. Deep down, in a flash, something glowed and cast its
warmth through breasts and loins. The brief lick of it made Soledad swallow. It
lingered for a moment then passed.

“How long have you been here?” she asked.

“Since it opened in Jantomar.”

“So you’ve watched the project grow.”

“If you can call it that. It doesn’t seem to be developing much if
you ask me.”

“I’ve noticed,” she said. “What’s going on? What’s the problem
with this project?”

“I don’t know. Rumor has it the project is out of money.”

“How could that be?”

“No financing. They say Smith’s consortium is broke and can’t
raise any money so it’s just limping along until the money comes—if it comes.”

“I thought this was supposed to be a gold mine,” she said.” I
know,” he said. “That’s the mystery. I don’t think anybody knows for sure,
especially the contractors. Nobody tells us shit.”

True.

Although he’d done a good job of faking it, he’d been distracted
and not fully in tune with the conversation. Instead, he’d been listening to
her voice just to hear it; to let it caress him. It was the richest, thickest
feminine voice he’d ever heard. If it had been a warm pool, he would have
willingly drowned in it.

Rachel looked out of the side port and watched the jungle roll
past in waves of uniform green. Storm clouds were gathering in the distance
ahead and she wondered how long it would take for them to move over the
installation. They looked particularly dark and fierce. The planet’s data
sheets said the rain was frequent but relatively mild. The storm ahead didn’t
look mild at all. “Quite a storm up ahead,” John said.

“You read my thoughts.”

A look passed between them like an anxious kiss. When she looked
away, he saw the strength in her smooth neck and wanted to kiss it; to suck it.
He was sure he’d never seen a more beautiful profile.

He looked away too, and stiffly consulted the map on the shuttle’s
console then pointed to it with a finger.

“That’s where we’re headed.”

The positioning system showed the location of the dead organism
as he’d recorded it as a red dot on the screen. An icon of the shuttle moved
slowly toward it.

“We should be there in a couple of minutes.”

Rachel leaned over and rummaged through her pack. When she did,
John looked at the rippled, chestnut-colored hair on her head and wanted to
grab it up in big handfuls. The simple view of her thick hair seemed to settle
in his groin as if she’d rested her head on it. He took a deep breath and
focused on flying the craft.

“There it is,” he said. “There’s the outcropping.”

He banked the shuttle and swooped down at it, causing a flutter of
vertigo in Rachel. She saw the black, sprawling thing before the craft leveled
out. It was huge.

“Wow. You weren’t kidding about the size.”

“There’s a lot of it you can’t see, and the arms are wider than
they look. What do you think? Didn’t I tell you?”

Rachel had seen many alien species, each one unique in its own
way. There were things on
Cunningham
Moors
and
Fuji
that had few if
any terrestrial counterparts. But she’d never seen an organism so enormous and
so divergent; so utterly different. She felt the excitement building in her
chest.

“It reminds me of a brittle starfish, an echinoderm like
Ophiuroidea except for its obvious size difference and the number of legs.”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah. Look, I don’t want to set down here. I’ve seen enough. I want
the live one. Take me to the live one.”

“You’re the boss.”

He turned the craft, accelerated and set the course for the
position he’d recorded. During the flight over to it, he saw the look of stiff
excitement in Rachel. She was leaning forward, her hands clamped between her
knees, straining against the safety straps.

“Have you seen any more of these things?”

“No, but I can sure spot them well enough now.”

“I bet. When did you say you first saw it?”

“Last week.” He looked forward. “There it is.”

He slowed the shuttle to a crawl and Rachel unhooked her straps
and sat on the edge of her seat, craning her neck up over the shuttle’s
console.

“Can you tip down so I can see better?”

"Sure."

He adjusted the controls, and the shuttle’s nose dipped down until
she had to support herself against the cockpit window with her arms. Her pack
slid with a bump against the bulkhead. In that position, she had an
unobstructed view of the creature below.

“Go where I point,” She said.” I want to see the whole thing.”

She pointed her finger, and John slowly turned the craft along the
route it traced for him. When he looked over, her round butt and arched back
seemed to beckon him.

“Lower?” he asked.

“No. This is good. Drive.”

They drifted over the entire organism and seemingly up and down
each arm. John obediently following the finger as she pointed first one way,
then another.

Pointing down, they couldn’t see the storm clouds that rolled up
from the west like gray mud.

“Now down,” she said waving her hand.

He brought the craft down to within a meter of two of the tree
tops.

“That’s good,” she said, reaching for her pack. She came up with a
camera and started to shoot one-handed. As she zoomed in on the bright green
surface of a tentacle, she could see that it was, in fact, like stiff hair,
standing straight up. It was uniform and regular as if it had been cropped with
a razor.

A roll of thunder rumbled through the jungle and rattled the
shuttle’s doors.

“Here comes the rain,” he said.

“Yeah. Look, can you set this thing down on the arm. I want to get
out and walk on it. I want some of that green epidermal material.”

“Sure. I can float the shuttle right over it. Hang on.”

He tipped the shuttle back then moving slowly, brought it to within
half a meter of the arm’s surface. He set the controls for static hold, then
went back and slid open the door. Rachel dug out a handful of plastic bags from
her pack and put them in a pocket, then put the pack on her back. The first
huge, round raindrops began to splatter around them and smack cool on their
faces as she sat down in the door.

“I’ve got the suspensors on low lift. It’ll feel like walking
through pudding until you get out a couple of meters. You’d better hurry or
you’ll get wet.”

“Hey, I like the rain,” she smiled.

Thunder rumbled.

She put her feet out into the suspensor field. It felt like pudding,
just like he said. An interference field like rippling water swirled around her
moving legs. She stood up and started pushing her legs through, one shuffling
step after the next. It was harder than she thought it would be. The cloying
field sucked at her legs like magnets on iron. By the time she got out, the
rain was falling heavily, soaking through the shoulders of her cottons. John
stuck his head out and twisted his face up briefly at the rainclouds.

“You’re gonna get really wet! Sure you don’t want to wait until it
passes!”

“No!”

She squatted down and ran her hand over the green fur. It felt
like stiff, freshly cut grass. The ends of each strand were hard, but not
sharp. She took a grab of it between thumb and forefinger and pulled some
loose. It didn’t come away easily, feeling tough and stringy. It left a clean
and neat little bald patch. She rolled the clump between her palms and smelled.
Chlorophyll. At least this part of it was plant-like. If it was carnivorous
like John suggested, you couldn’t tell from here. She pulled up a few clumps
and put them in plastic bags.

The rain was falling heavily now, soaking her through. When she
looked over at John, he was leaning in the door safe and dry with his arms
folded.

“Having fun!” he yelled.

“Got a rope?”

“Why?”

She stepped closer so they wouldn’t have to yell at each other.
The rain came harder.

“I’m going over the side. I want to go inside the thing.”

“Now?”

“Now. Besides, it’s drier inside,” she added with a grin.

His arms unfolded, and his hands went to his hips. She could see
him thinking.