Dominant Species Volume Two -- Edge Effects (Dominant Species Series) (6 page)

The moonlight was bright enough that he didn’t have to use the
flood just yet. Good thing. It wouldn’t do to advertise his presence at the
dump, scrounging around in the middle of the night.

He’d made a crude harness out of rope to carry the drums. He laid
it out and tied up the first two drums, then gathered up the ends and started
for the noisy jungle, dragging the drums behind.

Bugs by the hundreds flapped at his body and at his face as he
made his way. He knew about the ferocity and number of the planet’s bugs and
had planned for the barrage by buying a net suit at the store that afternoon. In
spite of the heat, he wore heavy cotton overalls under the net, and he’d tied
his pants legs tight against his boots. The sleeves of his heavy shirt were
taped down where they met his gloves.

He had no idea where he was going to hide the drums, but it didn’t
matter. The jungle was so dense, there was little chance anyone would find them
regardless of where he put them. In order to find them himself, he’d brought a
transponder that he planned to attach to one of the drums.

Jerking and dragging the drums through the foliage proved to be
more difficult than he’d expected. He wasn’t looking forward to doing this
four more times, but every business enterprise had its hot and sweaty startup
shit to do.

Sweating and puffing, he tugged and yanked the drums through the
tangle. The jungle suddenly thinned a little, as if he had come upon an old
neglected and overgrown road and the going got easier. Fifty meters later the
trail seemed to run right down into the ground, terminating in an underground
cave. Swatting the bugs away from the light, he took a cautious look inside.

The cave wasn’t very deep and looked as if it had collapsed at a
point about ten meters in. Plants were growing up out of the floor of the cave
and the walls near the entrance, but nothing like the heavy growth outside.
The area near the back of the cave had few plants and was fairly level.

The cave was dark, and the plant life choking the front half of it
made it even more intimidating. It was the perfect place for something nasty or
dangerous to hide.

He kicked around until he loosened a rock, then pried it out of
the ground. He hauled back and threw it in, aiming low and making sure it hit a
lot of plants. It crashed noisily through the foliage.

“Hey!” he yelled. “Hey!”

He waited a while longer, cocking his head and trying to hear
something from the big crawly bastard that lived inside. Nothing came to him
over the background of clicks, hisses and buzzing.

Perfect.

As he moved the light around, a dark shiny thing scurried out. It
scrabbled over his boot with quick hard legs.

His foot kicked out in a quick reflex but hit only air. “Shit!” he
barked.

He looked for it under his foot, but the thing was gone.

A cluster of glossy brown egg-like things stuck to the ceiling in
the center of the cave. Geary made a face at the patch of eggs and avoided
walking directly under it. When he looked closer at one wall, he could see
hundreds of bugs on it. A few of the smaller ones darted and scrabbled over the
wall’s irregular, brown surface. Some moved sluggishly as if cold; others
seemed completely frozen, waiting. Looking closer at an especially bizarre
one, he suddenly realized the bug’s odd shape was because it was two bugs—one
devouring the other. Geary could hear the thing’s mandibles clicking as they
cut through the squirming victim’s exoskeleton. He stood back and smashed them
both with a high kick of his foot.

Well, it would have to do, bugs and all.

There was enough room for all the drums, and it was below ground
and out of sight. All that was good.

Something hit his arm and tried to pinch through his thick
clothing. He brought the light to bear on the spot and saw the ugliest bug he’d
ever seen. Its pointed head was working feverishly against the tough sleeve of
his shirt as if it were trying to penetrate it.

“No you don’t, you sonofabitch . . .”

Geary grabbed it with a gloved hand and plucked it off his sleeve.
The thing’s sharp legs stuck to the material like fish hooks. He yanked it
loose, threw it down and mashed it into the soft dirt with his boot.

He tugged the drums down into the cave, kicked the rough spots out
of the ground in the back and set them in place. It wasn’t a bad spot for a
start. When the money came in, they could move the stuff to a proper shelter.
It would do for now. He took the transponder out of his shirt pocket and put it
on the closest drum. Then he took a step or two back, turned his locator on and
waved it back and forth, watching the indicators light up when it pointed at
the transponder.

He scratched his way up the incline, using the plants as
handholds. He pulled out the locator again, changed the channel on it and moved
it in an arch until the indicators lit up, pointing him at the transponder he’d
set up in his shelter.

Following the locator’s lead, he trudged through the foliage and
back toward the clearing. On the way back he thought about getting some kind of
gas or spray to kill the crawling shit in the cave, then thought better of it;
the damned thing would fill right back up with bugs in no time.

Two hours later, and completely exhausted, he worked the last drum
into place, sawing it back and forth to level it in the soft dirt. The lid of
one drum wouldn’t quite close, but that was all right—he wasn’t going to make
another trip just for that. He banged at it with his balled-up fist a time or
two and got it mostly down.

There. Nice and neat.

He headed back to the shelter.

* * *

Geary had just heated a dinner in
the microwave when his roommate, a laborer named Chris Burkett, came staggering
into the kitchen, hissing through his nose and squinting at the light. He
shuffled over to the refrigerator and opened it, squinting even tighter as the
light from inside it hit his face.

“I got hungry.”

Geary just grunted.

“‘Zat all there is?” Burkett asked.

“I guess . . .”

“Shit.”

“Store’s down the road.”

“Ain’t open.”

When the microwave chimed done,
Geary took his platter to the table. He pulled the plastic chair up tight.

“‘Zat one any good?” Burkett said looking at Geary’s plate.

“Don’t know. Ain’t tried it yet.” He took a bite.

Burkett just stood there and watched Geary chew.

Geary knew he was watching him and waiting for an answer, so Geary
gave him one.

“Ummm! Best goddamned platter food I’ve ever fuckin' ate! I might
have two of the goddamned things.”

Burkett didn’t miss the sarcasm. He snorted and looked in the
refrigerator again. He came up with a meat and potatoes just like Geary’s and
put it in the cooker. “Guess I’ll have one,” he said.

While the oven hummed at the food, Burkett leaned against the wall
and noticed Geary’s net suit hanging from a hook in the rear entryway.

“‘Zat your net thing?”

“Yep.”

“What’s it for? You going out at night?”

Burkett had to be one of the dumbest bastards Geary had ever
roomed with. It wasn’t just a casual dumbness but a pervasive lameness of
thought that got under Geary’s skin like a maggot.

“Huh?” Burkett persisted. “What’s it for?”

“Well, there ain’t no bugs during the day much, so I’ll probably
wear it at night.”

“Why come?”

He was nosy as hell, too.

“I like to take a stroll, you know, at night. Thought that thing
might keep the bugs off me at night. Wouldn’t use it during the day much.”

Burkett thought it over and nodded his head.

“Gotta be careful, though,” Geary added just for fun. “I wouldn’t
want to go out at night and forget the thing.”

“Oh, hell—me neither. You’d better remind me if I ever start out
on a walk at night and forget that garsh-darn thing.”

Geary nodded knowingly. “Get your own,” he said.

Just as the microwave chimed, Geary got up from the table, taking
his plate with him.

“Think I’ll finish up in my room, then call it a day.”

“Yeah, okay,” Burkett said.

Burkett was just the kind of guy who’d screw you. He was too dumb
to be truly crooked and lived instead under a veil of self-righteous honesty.
Such men were unpredictable. They could be counted on to do whatever their
malleable consciences told them to do. About the only thing you could count on
when it came to such men was that they’d turn you in to save themselves every
damned time. He’d have to be careful around him.

“Yeah, okay. I’ll see you tomorrow,” Geary said cheerfully.

Burkett sat down and started to eat.

* * *

Eddie Silk was there right on time the next afternoon. Geary was
liking the kid better and better.

“Mr. Silk.”

“Mr. Geary. I have some good news.”

“Lay it on me. I could use some good news.”

“That shipment of first aid shit’s got about ten kilos of Xercodan
in it.”

“No kiddin’.”

“Yeah. These are the professional models. Each kit’s got one of
these in it.”

He pulled out a tinted bottle and shook it. It rattled a little.

“Nice,” Geary said taking it out of Eddie’s hand.

Xercodan was a powerful painkiller and narcotic. A favored drug
among those predisposed to take it. One tab could put you in the ozone for
hours.

“One hundred tabs. Two hundred fifty milligrams each. I got two
full containers of first aid kits with one of these in every one.”

“Looks like we’re in business, Mr. Silk,” Geary said with a grin.

He put the pill bottle in his pocket. The problem was that he’d
have to open up every last one of the first aid kits and dig out the Xercodan.
It would take some time.

“Where're the containers?”

“There in section WW03. Here're the container numbers.” Eddie
handed him a slip of paper. Geary looked at it briefly, then pocketed it.

“Perfect.”

“Not quite,” Eddie said.

“What do you mean? Speak up.”

“Well, that section is right out in the open. The guard’s post has
a good line of sight on that section.”

Geary pursed his thin lips and thought about it. The guard would
probably be asleep, but you never knew—it could get dicey.

“Move ‘em tomorrow night before you quit your shift. Put ‘em
someplace nobody can see. Then move ‘em back the next morning. Simple.”

“Not so simple.”

“Why not?”

“I can’t move them that easily without attracting attention.”

“Why not?”

“Because there’s no reason to move them now. They’re . . . they’re
checked in and shit . . . put away.”

Geary looked at Eddie like he was nuts. Eddie met the gaze as
steadily as he could.

“You mean to tell me that you can’t find some reason to move two
goddamned containers?”

Eddie swallowed. “I’m just saying it’s not that easy, and it’ll
attract attention is all.”

Geary shook his head and lowered it. This was disappointing. The
kid was all bluster and no balls. Maybe it was time he got some. Geary didn’t
look up—he knew he didn’t have to. “You move those goddamned things where I can
get at them without being seen. You understand me?”

When Eddie hesitated, Geary reached out and grabbed his wrist. He
squeezed. “If you’re gonna work with me, you’d better listen to what I say.”
Geary’s steely hand clamped tighter.

“I’ll try . . .” Eddie said.

Geary let go of Eddie’s arm and dug the slip of paper Eddie had
given him out of his pocket. He crumpled it up into a little ball. “See you
tomorrow,” he said. As he walked away, he flicked the little ball of paper over
his shoulder at Eddie. It bounced off Eddie’s chest.

Geary was in no hurry. They had plenty of time. There was nobody
to sell the Xercodan to anyway and no reason whatsoever to take an unnecessary
risk. The hired guards were usually dim wits and slackards of the highest
order, but they could bust you just the same. Geary had spent ten years in jail
starting when he was just about the kid’s age over just such a mistake as being
caught red-handed.

*
The next afternoon, Eddie was there right on time, trussing up
Geary’s faith in him. “Where they gonna be?” Geary asked.

“That’s them over there on this side. The two right on the edge of
the platform. See ‘em?”

Eddie pointed to two Number 10 containers side by side on the
warehouse grid. They were conspicuously apart from the other containers in the
warehouse and so close to the edge of the grid that Geary could have strolled
over and opened them without climbing up. From where they were it would be
impossible to see them from the guard shack.