Space Chronicles: The Last Human War (3 page)

The Head Tasker of Quarry 33 hurried to the main gate. It was still dark.

“General Tragge? I am Head Tasker, Rase Bin-ta. Thank you for coming so quickly. Where is Dr. Hadje?”

“He’ll be here in a
few hours. I came by military shuttle,” the general said, smug in his advantage over the doctor. “Military craft are faster than those old transports you science people drive. I’d like to see the scene of the human attack right away. Did you secure the area?”

“Yes, sir. We left it exactly as it was. Even the stripper plow is still out there.
Sir, shouldn’t we wait for Dr. Hadje and his team?” the Head Tasker protested.

“I’ll take full responsibility
. Take me and my team to the site, immediately.”

Head Tasker
Bin-ta was accustomed to being the final authority in his compound, and held his ground, ignoring the general.

“Get Dr. Hadje on my communicator
,” he instructed his assistant while standing toe-to-toe with the military leader. “We’ll get my boss’s approval first.”

General Tragge flushed
in anger at his inability to bully this quarry leader. At the same time, he admired the strength of this Head Tasker. Dr. Hadje’s voice sounded from the video unit.

“Give me that damn thing!”
the general said and grabbed the device. “Hadje! Tell this manager of yours to take me to the site of that human attack. I can’t wait two hours for your damn transport to get here.”

A
mused by the general’s frustration, Hadje made a mental note to commend his Head Tasker. Few people could stand up to the most overbearing egotist on the Board of Ministers.

“Calm down,
General. We have the scientific equipment with us. Why is it so important for you to get out there before I arrive?” The doctor used this discussion to buy a little time.

General Tragge bristled at being questioned.

“I brought a tracker team with me. We’re gonna show you science types how to handle these humans. Now, tell your man to show me where that site is.”

“What kind of ‘tracker team
?” Dr. Hadje demanded.

The
general had never meddled directly in the handling of human affairs.

“You
theory-types are timid. When runners escape, why not go and get em?” The general’s voice betrayed his growing impatience. “I brought a top team of scouts. They’re gonna bring back your humans. Then, you tech fools can figure out what’s going on inside their heads. Now, you’re wasting my time. Give the order, or I’ll find the damn place myself!”

General Tragge
tossed the communicator back to the Head Tasker.

“Rase, go ahead and take him to the scene
,” Tanarac’s head of human affairs said to his quarry manager, “but, take your time, and don’t allow anyone to enter the human personal quarters before I arrive.”

After removing
his Head Tasker from the hot seat, Dr. Hadje enjoyed a chuckle. Little did the general know, the doctor recently procured a military transport. It was much faster than the old research vehicles, and he had already landed a short while ago. Careful not to tip his hand, the senior scientist delighted in knowing his team would be inside the quarry in less than ten minutes, much to the general’s surprise.

The Head Tasker drove
General Tragge and his team across the dark quarry to the scene of the human attack where portable floodlights illuminated the stripper plow and nearby bushes. The trackers approached the jungle’s edge and carefully panned hand lights across every dark recess between the plants. The quarry master noticed these soldiers did not carry familiar stun cords used in Tanarac law enforcement. Instead, each wore full combat gear, including the lethal, focused-particle-beam sidearm that bulged from hip-straps.

“Can you guys find em in that stuff?”
the general asked.

“Yes, sir,” the tallest tracker replied with
typical military confidence. “As soon as we get enough daylight, we’ll get going.”

E
arliest signs of light from Tanarac’s smaller sun began to show on the horizon when a blood-curdling, animal screech sounded from the jungle depths. It was unmistakable. Hicay, and it was hunting. Sounds of a violent struggle followed. Some animal, or perhaps a human, met an unfortunate fate. When the brief struggle ended, an eerie silence filled the jungle. Even vocal treetop dwellers stopped calling out.

The steeled old general shook his head
slowly at the chilling thought of meeting a hicay in its own territory, at night, and unarmed.

“
Sir, we’ll enter in two teams.” As an afterthought the soldier added, “Those things won’t have a chance, sir.”

The confident soldier patted his sidearm before caution
ing about results.

“General, I wouldn’t be surprised if we only bring you a bag of bones. I’d sure hate to be out there without a weapon.”

The Head Tasker’s communicator buzzed. It was Dr. Hadje, announcing he was already in the compound and on his way to the attack site.

Tragge overheard the call and looked back toward the
quarry buildings. To his frustration, lights of the doctor’s transporter came into view half way across the quarry. The general looked at the edge of the jungle and up at the horizon. It was still too dark for his scouts to enter.

The Director of Human Affairs
walked directly up to the general. Two unusually tall Tanarac leaders stood toe to toe.

“Tragge, you’re out of line!
” the doctor said and poked the general in the chest. “This is not your jurisdiction, and I resent your actions.”

The general’s domineering personality changed noticeably, becoming almost conciliatory as he tried to negotiate with the head scientist.

“Look Hadje, your Taskers are not trained to track in the jungle, and they can’t handle hicays in the wild. The only way you’re gonna get those runners back is if my trackers go in and get em. We’re wasting time. Can my men get going?”

“
If I wanted your help, I would have asked for it. Now, take your soldiers, and get out of my quarry.”

The general tried a softer approach.

“Rosh, I know I stepped on your toes. I’m sorry. You’ve gotta admit, though, you science types would love to get your hands on runners, especially the one who attacked your Tasker. My trackers can get those humans for you. We might even find one alive . . . if we don’t waste anymore time. How about it? Can I send in my trackers?”

Dr. Hadje hated to back down, but the general made one irresistible point. They had never captured a runner for follow up studies. Runners simply vanished in the jungle never to be seen again. Even aerial searches using infrared penetration scopes failed to detect anything more than hicays and a few large warm-blooded herbivores. It was an enduring mystery
, and this was no ordinary runner—this one attacked a Tanarac.

S
cientific intellect won the battle over ego.

“Alright, Byn
, but tell your men they work under my command and authority. Got it? How much time do they need?”

The wily old general jumped on the opportunity, lest Dr. Hadje change his mind.

“My trackers don’t think humans can cover much ground in this dense jungle. Your runners have a full day’s head start. What do you think, men? Three days enough?”

The
head tracker nodded.

“Okay, that’s it
,” the general said. “My men can run them down in a day, but it might take a couple days to get em back since travel will be slower with prisoners.”

W
ithout waiting for Dr. Hadje’s approval, he issued orders.

“You two, go after the female,”
the general said and turned slightly. “Your team will bring back the male. Stay in contact at standard recon increments. Watch out for hicays.”

T
wo tracker teams vanished into the jungle at the last known point where each runner had disappeared. Dr. Hadje noticed they moved fast and in complete silence.

Kelly’s path through the jungle was easy to follow. She
had forced through bushes with complete abandon, leaving an obvious trail. Grasses and small ferns were still pressed into soft, moist ground where the heels and toes of her worker boots dug in.

About an hour into their mission, the
military trackers grew concerned about telltale three-clawed footprints superimposed on Kelly’s tracks. A hicay followed her trail. Fortunately, the predator tracks were fresh and Kelly’s footprints were almost a day old.

The scouts
increased their pace, hoping to reach her before the wild animal did. They gave up stealth and traveled fast with fully-charged weapons at the ready. After several hours, the unmistakable attack scream of a hicay ripped through the air directly ahead.

“Eeeooowww!” The sound alone was enough to terrify most Tanaracs.

Beast and prey thrashed just out of sight in the dense undergrowth. The lead soldier parted a wall of vines. A hicay, only a few yards away, tore flesh from a still-moving chukka.

Startled, the predator sprang to a defensive posture in front of its kill and screamed its intent to defend the food with deadly force.

Scouts knew
,
o
nce a hicay killed, it would stay with the meat for several days. They beat a hasty retreat, hoping this hicay would be no different and made a wide circle around the kill zone to relocate Kelly’s trail on the far side.

Her
footprints grew close together, and scouts found a patch of ground with compressed moss where she had spent the night. One tracker shoved his fingers under the moss checking for residual heat trapped below. It was cool.

“Sh
e must have left at first light,” the tracker whispered to his companion.

The second soldier added, “
No food or water. She can’t be far ahead.”

As her trail beg
an to meander, the pursuit team wondered if confusing light of the jungle might have disoriented her, or perhaps thirst caused her to wander. Trackers increased their pace in anticipation of quick contact. With night approaching, there was not much time left for them to make contact on the first search day, and it would be too dangerous to continue after the dark.

“Eeeooowww!”
The hicay scream was close.

A human scream immediately followed the
hicay’s hunting cry. Trackers raised their weapons and proceeded methodically into an unusually thick tangle of jungle plants. Two more hicay shrieks tore through the air in rapid succession, but they did not sound the same. Using hand signals, one soldier cautioned about a second hicay.

Multiple deep-throated
snarls vibrated through vines directly in front of the scouts. They aimed their weapons and listened as hissing-growls escalated into a violent battle. At one point, the animals crashed against the jungle barrier hiding the soldiers. Intense fighting ended with an unmistakable death-rattle as the victorious hicay clenched the throat of the vanquished. The lead tracker parted vines for a look.

On the ground near the middle of a long narrow clearing, a crumpled hicay lay motionless, soaked in blood. Its golden fur
was peeled back in numerous places and revealed deeply-torn, pink flesh beneath. Its throat seeped blood from a gaping wound.

At the far end of the clearing, a small human in light blue worker’s clothes
appeared to be unconscious on the ground with a huge hicay straddling her body. The soldier’s mission was explicit. Bring back human female, or her remains. Dead or alive did not matter to the trackers.

The lead soldier motioned that he would
target the big hicay. His companion knew the responsibilities of a backup shooter. Both took careful aim, oblivious to motion in the bushes to their right. As the scout leader applied slow, deliberate pressure on the firing button, the wall of jungle to their side exploded in a frenzy of green leaves and vines.

A hicay sprang from hiding
, pinning both soldiers beneath a thick mat of vegetation. Impact caused the lead scout’s weapon to fire involuntarily into the jungle canopy above. The second shooter attempted to kill the animal by sending a searing energy beam up through the protective mat covering them. Intense plasma missed its target, but the beast recoiled from the bright flash and crashed away into the jungle fauna, temporarily blinded.

Wasting no time, t
he tough scouts forced their way up through the vines. When they looked back into the clearing, both Kelly’s body and the large hicay were gone.

S
couts entered the clearing. They only managed a few steps when the large hicay sauntered slowly back into view at the far end. It moved deliberately, massive muscles rippling visibly through its thick fur. This master predator sat onto its haunches and made no effort to approach the Tanaracs, nor did it show fear of the soldiers. It stared directly into the lead tracker’s eyes.

T
ough-minded soldiers aimed their pulse weapons at the big beast when three smaller hicays emerged into the clearing from either side of the big one. Four hicays!