The Seeds of Time (17 page)

Teeg and Shannon were in the lead. As they crossed the field, Clio saw that Zee and Liu were carrying something strapped to a pole, either end of which was supported on their shoulders.

At a shout from Estevan, on watch, the crew emerged from tents and rushed over to the perimeter wire to watch them approach. The body of a four-legged animal hung from the pole, its head lolling back exposing a mottled yellow throat stained with blood. Zee and Liu trudged toward camp, struggling under the weight of the Saint Bernard-sized beast. A garland of flowers drooped in a wilted circlet on Shannon’s head.

Teeg raised his rifle in a cheery wave. “Dinner!” he called. Then, as they entered the perimeter, “We’ll have a
barbecue and tell our hunting story. Doc, you skin the thing.”

At Posie’s look of surprise, Teeg clapped him on the back. “You’re the zoologist, you might find it interesting.” To Estevan, he said, “Think you could get this thing on a spit and get the crew a real meal? Anybody you need to help you, just put them to work. We’ve been eating out of tubes too long.” Teeg’s face took on a frankly eager expression. “I want this to be a kind of celebration for the crew. It’s been all work and no play. I’d appreciate anything you could do to make up a nice meal.”

Estevan shrugged. “No sweat.” Then a big chumpy smile. “Colonel.”

Clio winced. Estevan was laying it on a bit thick. And Teeg was settling into his colonel routine: indulging the troops, savoring his love letters, and dreaming of Shangri-la.

Meng eyed their dinner. “Meat. God, all of a sudden, I could kill for some good, red meat.”

Liu was trudging off to the hygiene tent. “And I could kill for a shower.”

Zee warned Clio off with his eyes, and headed for crew tent.

Teeg and Posie dragged the kill to the shade side of the med tent, Clio following. “Who brought it down?” she asked.

Teeg slapped the rifle slung over his shoulder. “It practically ran into us, grazing. Shot it right between the eyes.” A sheepish grin flickered for a moment on his face. “Not much of a war story.”

Clio smiled back. “Well, it’s results that count.” She sauntered away, brooding hard about the Dharhai slung over Teeg’s right shoulder.

Late in the afternoon, Estevan built a fire and let it burn down to coals. Fashioning a crude rotisserie, he and Liu hoisted the bloody carcass over the fire pit to begin cooking. Before long the smell of roasted flesh pervaded the camp.

Toward sunset the crew pulled up makeshift seats. Meng and Shannon were giggling. They had prepared what
they called hors d’oeuvres, and passed among the crew urging tastes and flirting with the men.

Teeg slapped Estevan on the back, relieving him for a few minutes on the task of turning the spit. The Dharhai was still slung over his shoulder. Estevan bustled back to the meal tent for the rest of the food, catching Clio’s eyes in passing, the smile melting off his face like wax.

Posie unbuttoned his shirt a few notches, watching Meng’s every move. She had removed her shoes, tied her shirt to expose her midriff, which seemed a scandalous thing: tummy and feet against the sober green of the Recon uniform. She wore her gun at her hip, as they all did.

Clio went over the plan in her mind. She would take Posie, Estevan was on Teeg, and Zee on Meng. Clio would take on Liu if she could, disarm him, after she had tied Posie. Estevan would watch for Shannon, who was possibly unaligned, and a lightweight in any case. Hillis was on his own. Clio didn’t tell him their plans. A painful deception. He would support her in a pinch, but he might not like the plans, and right now Clio didn’t want any vacillation.

The Niang mission was going to abort. Get to
Starhawk
with as few injuries as possible. Get home.
Got to get the job done, sister
.

Zee was poking at the coals with a stick, not doing well in party mode. Clio slipped her arm about his waist. “You’re kinda cute, what’s your name, honey?” Clio asked loud enough to bring snickers from some of the crew.

Zee looked up with a fine attempt at a smile. “Just call me professor.”

“Ohhh.” Clio cooed. “A professor. I just love intelligent men.” She swept the group with mocking eyes. “They’re so rare.” Liu hooted, enjoying the banter.

Teeg watched her with growing interest, a wry and wondering light in his eyes, all the while talking to Shannon, turning the meat spit, and retelling the story of the kill. A man who wanted badly to believe this fantasy; to enact it, in fact.

Estevan dished out the feast as the last of the light slipped from their patch of sky. The meat caused something
of a sensation, dark and stringy as it was, but it was meat, basted and barbecued. It was meat without tubes. The crew turned serious in their eating.

After some time Shannon left her plate at her seat and slipped away, promising to come back. When she did, they stopped eating to stare at her. She wore the bandanna again as a halter. A man’s shirt was converted to a short draped skirt, slit up the side nearly to her hips. She was barefoot and her skin glistened with oil.

“Kind of hard to dance without music.” She spread her arms, presenting herself. The crew beat forks on plates, whistled.

Teeg was grinning. “Hey, Estevan, how about some of those Latin rhythms? Use a couple of sticks, man. Let’s see this lady dance!”

Estevan didn’t move. Clio jumped up and searched the clearing for a couple of likely sticks, hurried over to Estevan, joking and prodding him. Catching his eye.

He stared at her a second, then grinned, and started the beat.

And Shannon moved. Closing her eyes, she swayed in place, her hips and shoulders catching the rhythm first, spreading across and down her body, moving outward along her arms. Slowly she turned to the fire, undulating her hips, where all eyes went. Then, gathering confidence, she began to move around the dying coals, twisting her body and coiling her arms to the cadence of Estevan’s percussion as though possessed. Amid shouts from the group, Liu jumped up to dance with her, but Posie jerked him back to the applause of the men. This was a solo performance. Shannon had the stage, and she knew it.

Clio waited for the bandanna to come off. Shannon must have that much planned at least. She watched the crew as they watched the dancer. They were entranced, the firelight glittering in their eyes. They were waiting for the bandanna too. When Shannon threw it off she actually tossed it to Teeg.

He caught it. Then he leaned over to Estevan and stopped the drumming. Standing up, he started the applause
for Shannon, which came with shouts of approval, Meng and Clio vying with the men in showing appreciation.

Shannon bowed, deeply flushed, suddenly at loose ends, as to whether she should cover herself or not, leave the campfire. Teeg settled that question. He walked slowly up to her, put his arm around her waist, and pulled her close, covering her face with his own. The crew watched this demonstration with quiet stares until he took her by the elbow and steered her toward his tent.

“You kids are on your own. I got business to attend to.” He looked pointedly at Clio as he passed.

It positively hurt her to stifle the sneer he deserved.

Meng got up from her seat by the fire, and glided toward Posie, who seemed frozen to his seat, watching her approach. She stood in front of him, her eyes locked on his as if daring him to touch her. He finally reached out his hand toward her, a trembling, tentative clutch at her midriff, but at that, she turned and started to walk out of the circle, twisting her head around to see if he was following. He was.

Then Clio was on Zee, choosing before she was chosen, trying to ignore Hillis’ bewildered glances, trying to maneuver herself out of the campfire circle. She caught Estevan’s eyes, nodded almost imperceptibly. He nodded back. He was ready.

Liu watched Clio and Zee heading into the dark of the camp. “Hey Professor,” he called, “you should share her.” Clio clutched Zee’s arm, urging him onward, not to respond. “There’s only three women, Zee. Just remember that!”

“My God,” Zee was saying, “my God, what’s happening to us? We’re scientists, don’t they remember that? What about the mission, doesn’t anybody remember that?” He looked at her in distress. “What would Captain Russo say?”

Clio muttered under her breath, “Russo would be pissed. More to the point,
I’m
pissed.” She led Zee into the crew tent, turned to see if they’d been followed. Nobody.

“Posie and Meng are in the med tent. Probably doing it
on the cot right now. Let’s go.” She checked her gun, jammed it back in the holster.

“My God,” Zee said again. At her stare, he checked his own gun, nodded he was ready.

“I’ll go in first, get them facedown on the floor. You watch my back. When I call you, come in and cover me while I tie them up. Then I’ll find Liu and disarm him.”

“I’ll take care of Liu.”

“No. He’ll be happier to see me, less on guard. Now hurry.”

They checked outside before leaving the crew tent. Estevan was nowhere in sight. Several figures were still sitting around the campfire some forty meters away. That would be Hill and Liu.

Zee went ahead, Clio following, taking the long way around to med tent, then crouching down outside it, listening for Posie and Meng. Clio bent low, ear to the tent. Nothing. No sound from inside. Zee looked up at her, started to whisper, but she put her hand to his lips, urging silence. The noise from the jungle was loud in their ears, and Posie might be a quiet lover. Minutes stretched out, marked only by the thumping of their hearts.

A slight movement to Clio’s left. She turned. And there it was, it’s eyes only slightly lower than hers, a monkey creature, its eyes focused upon hers. A membrane slipped over its eyes, retracted. Slowly, Clio put her hand on Zee’s shoulder, turned him around to look, covering his mouth just in case. No use. Zee cried out, jumping back and falling against the tent. Cursing, Clio jumped up and ran for the tent door, flung herself inside, gun drawn. Posie was standing naked beside the bed, trousers in one hand, trying to get a leg in. Meng was sprawled on the cot, grabbing at the covers.

“Get down,” Clio said, louder than she meant to, “get down on the floor, facedown. Now, goddamn it!” Finally Posie was moving, and then Meng, dragging the covers with her, modest even now. “Drop the covers,” Clio hissed. “Lie down on your face.”

Zee was standing behind her. “Get their guns,” she
said, trying to scan the med tent for weapons other than their pistols. Zee jumped to it, retrieving the weapons. He rummaged for bandages, found them, and hurriedly bound Posie’s hands behind his back. In the midst of this they heard two rounds of gunfire, close, somewhere in camp.

“What’s going on here, Finn,” Posie said, twisting his head to the side, his voice quavering.

Clio began backing up toward the door to look out, hoping to hell Estevan hadn’t botched the job. And then Liu was standing there, and his gun was against the side of her head.

“Drop your gun,” he said.

Clio let her gun slip to the ground. At that moment, something small and dark came scampering away from the side of the tent, coming within a meter of Liu, who turned his weapon toward it and fired. Then someone was rushing up from the dark center of camp, hair flying, and as Liu swung the gun around and squeezed off another round, Clio saw that it was Shannon, heard Shannon saying, “He’s dead! Dead!” Before she could say more, Liu had shot her full in the chest.

As Liu screamed, Clio rushed over to Shannon, knelt down beside her where she lay. “Who’s dead, Shannon, who?”

Shannon looked up at her with a kind of smile. “Estevan,” she said. The name blurted out on a pulse of blood from her mouth.

Liu stood fixed in place, emitting a series of cries, staring at the remains of Shannon’s chest. Meng had rushed out of the tent, stark naked, and was now screaming at Clio, “I’ll kill you, I’ll kill you!” She grabbed the pistol from Liu and fired at Clio, missing. Then Hillis was standing on the edge of the scene. He stalked toward Meng, took the gun from her hand, and struck her, sending her reeling into the tent.

Clio’s thoughts slowed to leaden pace.
Fast, think fast
, she told herself.

Zee was still armed. He stood in the tent doorway, staring at Shannon’s body, as they all were. “Let’s get out of
here,” Clio said. When he hesitated, she added, “I think Estevan’s dead, and Teeg’ll be looking for us. Let’s get the hell out of here.”

Zee urged Meng up with the toe of his boot. Clio grabbed Hillis’ arm, said, “We tried to jump Teeg and Posie. We got Posie tied up, but I think Teeg’s on the loose.” Hillis was holding the gun as though it were a dead rat. Clio gently took it.

Hillis grabbed her by the shoulders. “Stop it, Clio,” he said. “We need to stop this. Shannon’s dead. We need to talk this out, not shoot it out. Don’t you see what you’re doing? This doesn’t need to be a gunfight. We don’t have to kill each other, we need to talk to each other.”

“You still don’t get it. Open your eyes someday, Hill.” She backed away, watching the shadows behind him, watching for Teeg. Then she turned and bolted after Zee.

They herded Meng and Liu behind the meal tent where Zee bound and gagged them, using the roll of bandages he had tied Posie with.

When they had finished this task, she and Zee stared at each other a moment. A shiver clawed its way up Clio’s back. “Now what?” she said for both of them. “He’s got the Dharhai. We’ve got hostages, but he’s got the Dharhai.” Clio turned to gaze out toward the jungle clearing. Close enough to touch, the perimeter nerve wires now had the disadvantage of fencing them in, prohibiting their retreat to the forest.

Zee noted her look. “I blanked the wires from med tent.”

Clio threw her arms around his neck, hugged him. “Only good man in the group,” she said. Pulled away. Got to concentrate. “Let’s go.” She started to climb through the fence wires.

And then Teeg was standing there. The Dharhai was pointing at them. “Nobody move,” he said. “I don’t want to kill you, so just nobody move. Throw your weapons aside, real slow. Real, real slow.”

Clio began to shake. Her hand wouldn’t obey. Her arm fluttered like a ruined wing.