Dragonstar Destiny (5 page)

“He probably thinks we’re just an odd-looking cousin or something,” said Barkham.

“They’re not
that
stupid, are they?” asked Mishima.

“Hard to tell,” said Becky, “I’m no expert, but the ’tops
do
seem to be of the dumber beasts in this place.”

No one spoke as Mishima guided the vehicle slowly toward the stream bank and the cave mouth. When he stopped by water’s edge, the two male triceratopses circled them several times, snuffling and snorting a bit before losing interest.

“In a few seconds, they’ll have forgotten all about us,” said Becky.

“If you say so,” said Mishima.

Becky smiled, pushed an errant strand of long dark hair away from her face. She wore a headband, but in the humid, tropical atmosphere, perspiration still runneled down her cheeks, giving her whole face a vibrant, healthy shine. She was one of those people who seemed to flourish in the hot, sticky climate, who managed to look good under any conditions.

No one spoke for another moment as they watched the two armored beasts trundle off to rejoin their herd. One of the males began snuffling about the hind legs of the closest cow and attempted to mount her several times without success.

Barkham chuckled. “Now, that guy’s got the right idea,” he said.

“Make love, not war, right?” asked Becky, joining in with a soft chuckle of her own. She glanced over at Mishima and smiled, and he felt a low-level electric shock course through him. This woman was causing one hell of an effect on him, that. was for certain.

He cleared his throat and looked away with some difficulty, gesturing toward the mouth of the cave. “You think it’s safe to get out and check things out?”

“Yeah,” said Barkham. “Looks okay to me. What about it, Dr. Thalberg?”

“Just keep those males in your sights until we reach the cave itself,” she said. “If one of them charges us, it’s going to take a couple of shots to bring him down.”

Mishima nodded and retracted the dome.

“Let’s wait a few seconds to see if our scent is going to disrupt them again,” said Becky.

The larger of the two males continued to follow one of the cows about the grazing area. He had sex on his lemon-sized brain, and the smell of a few sweaty humans wasn’t going to change things. The other male had commenced feeding and had his flanks turned away from the OTV. If they were going to move off toward the protection of the cave, this seemed like the best time to do it.

“C’mon,” said Mishima. “Let’s go!”

The trio gathered up their equipment and weapons and climbed down from the cab. Keeping the OTV between them and the herd, they moved to the edge of the stream and then quickly south toward the cave from which the water issued. Mishima manned a lightweight, portable holo-cam, which gave him a- visual record of their explorations, and Becky carried the. miniscanner, which would accurately map and monitor their location as they moved along. Barkham kept his Heckler & Koch ready for anything.

As they silently approached the cave entrance, Mishima once again marveled at the utter
realism,
the perfect reconstruction of the environment which the builders of the
Dragonstar
had achieved. The bank to the stream, the flat rocks, the lazily churning water ... everything not only looked “right,” it simply
was
right. Unless you were to look off into the distance where the horizon should be, unless you took notice of the upward-curving inner hull, you would never imagine that everything was artifice, that it had been as carefully planned and built as a Japanese garden. He tried to imagine the kind of technology required to accomplish an engineering feat such as the
Dragonstar,
but it only made him feel foolish and insignificant.

His plan was madness. He was wasting his time, and needlessly risking the lives of his colleagues with this bone-headed expedition. They were like insects thrumming about the hold of a cargo freighter, secretly plotting to take over the bridge.

Fat chance, thought Mishima.

“Is there something wrong?” asked Becky as she touched his arm. The warm press of her fingers jacked him back to the present, and he realized that he had been woolgathering—standing at the cave entrance, staring off into space.

“No, Becky ... sorry, I was just thinking of something, that’s all ...”

“I’m getting some interesting readings on the beta band,” she said.

“Like what?”

“Looks like there’s another level beneath this one once we get inside the cave.”

Mishima paused and looked back over the terrain they had recently covered. “Makes sense. Look—we’ve been gradually following a rise in the landscape. See how it slopes down behind us, real easy-like? There
should
be some space beneath us at this point and the outer hull.”

“We goin’ in?” asked Barkham,

“You bet we are,” said Mishima, smiling, his excitement renewed in a sudden burst of enthusiasm. “You know, maybe my ideas are right, after all!”

As if in reply, one of the female triceratopses honked loudly as she was successfully mounted and entered. Everyone laughed at the near-perfect timing.

“Follow me,” said Mishima, turning and edging along the bank of running water, leaning into the cave’s shadowed entrance.

“Watch out for the nests,” said Becky, “It’s just occurred to me that this might make a perfect place for something small to want to keep its eggs protected.”

“Somethin’ small to us ... or
them?”
asked Barkham.

“It’s all relative,” said Becky. “Just watch out, okay?”

Nodding, Mishima stepped into the shadows and allowed his eyes to adjust to the drop in light intensity. He was expecting to see the rocky path and walls of a cave, and was surprised to find that just beneath the surface the artifice had been abandoned so quickly.

Instead of rocks and dirt, he stood on a metallic slab leading off into the darkness. Above his head, the grey cantilevered struts and supports of the cave’s interior held up the curved roof. It reminded him of a movie set on a studio’s sound stage. Incredible. And yet, not to be unexpected. For a moment, everyone stood quietly, and he could hear the hum of machinery, punctuated by a softer thumping sound.

Barkham stepped up beside him, panning the barrel of his weapon back and forth. “Everything look okay?”

“Yes,” said Mishima. “But let’s get a little light on the subject before we go any farther.”

Barkham unsnapped an electric torch from his utility belt and flicked it on. Adjusting the diameter of the beam, he directed its light on the expanse ahead of them.

“What’s that?” asked Becky as the light touched the leading edge of some superstructure in the distance.

“Let’s take a look,” said Mishima.

As they walked slowly and carefully through the darkness of the artificial cave, their boots slapping loudly on the metallic flooring, Mishima could hear the sounds of machinery growing more distinct, rising in volume as they obviously drew closer to it.

“What’s that, you think?” asked Barkham.

“Probably some kind of pumping system to keep this water flowing, to keep it recirculating.”

“Yeah, you’re probably right,” said the pilot.

“Just be careful,” said Becky. “You can’t assume anything about this place. That’s when you get your worse surprises.”

“So I’ve heard,” said Mishima. He again thought of how Becky had trekked through a big piece of the vessel’s interior forests and jungle when the initial exploratory team was attacked by a pack of carnosaurs. It was Becky and Coopersmith who had actually discovered the Saurians and their walled-in culture. She was indeed a competent woman. Mishima found himself wondering how he would have handled things in the hostile terrain... if Becky would have fallen for
him
the way they all said she had for Coopersmith.

And to think that she had been Colonel Kemp’s lady! Mishima grinned to himself. Old Coopersmith most have been quite a guy—a thought that was doubly profound when Mishima recalled how Ian Coopersmith had sacrificed his own life so that others would survive. And he wondered if he had enough of the right stuff to ever do the same ...

“Something wrong?” asked Becky, touching his arm.

“What? No! I was just thinking about something, again, sorry ...” Woolgathering again! She was going to think he was an eccentric-old-professor stereotype ...

They walked closely together as they approached the object up ahead. It soon resolved itself into a gangway or catwalk, which appeared to be attached to the outside bulkhead of the hull itself. It ran longitudinally along the hull, headed directly toward the engines and the control-section end of the gigantic ship.

“Bingo!” said Barkham. “Looks like we found something, Doctor.”

Mishima clambered up onto the catwalk. It appeared to have been built to carry creatures wider and taller than humans. Looking off, the metallic path led off into darkness farther than the strength of the torch’s beam could penetrate.

“I wonder if this is it?” he said softly.

“Looks like it goes on
forever
,”
said Barkham.

“It would almost
have
to,” said Becky. “We’re more than forty-five kays from the control-section.”

“Yes,” said Mishima. “It’s a long walk if this thing goes all the way ...”

“We gonna check it out now?” Barkham’s distressed expression belied his feelings concerning such a possibility.

“I don’t think so,” said Mishima. “We were out here just to map out the area. I think we should go back and plan this out. Get together a group of volunteers who want to make the trip.”

“You’re going to need technical people who can help you once you get in there,” said Becky.

“Hey,” said Barkham. “I just thought of somethin’. What happens if you get all the way down to the end of this thing, and there ain’t no door into the ass-end of this can?”

“I’m hoping that the gangway runs along the bulkhead right into the control-section,” said Mishima. “If it does, then there won’t
be
any hatches ... we’ll simply
be
where we want to be.”

“Are we heading back for now?” asked Becky.

“I think so,” said Mishima. “We’ve done more than I expected already.”

The trio turned and retraced their steps, back out into the artificial sunlight of the Mesozoic Preserve. The ceratopsian herd had moved off to graze farther away from the stream bank, and the area appeared to be quite safe.

Mishima watched Becky as she walked ahead and entered the OTV. She was a beautiful woman, and he wanted her. Yet it was not all that simple—he also wanted her to want
him.
And that might take some doing...

But there were more important things to be. thinking about, and he chided himself for letting his glandular system override his neurological one. He must compose a report to the other Ruling Council members, enlist their support, and get a team organized. Regardless of how small his chances of success might be, it felt
good
to be finally
doing
something about their plight.

As he reached the operator’s side of the vehicle, Mishima turned and looked back at the stream, the cave entrance, and the landscape in general,

“Anything wrong?” asked Becky.

“No,” he said, climbing aboard. “It just hit me all over again how incredible this whole ship actually is ... what an engineering achievement it is. I keep wondering what kind of minds could have conceived of such a thing, and to what purpose.

Barkham chuckled. “Yeah, you and everybody else, Doc.”

Becky nodded. “I have a feeling that sooner or later you’re going to have some answers to those questions,” she said.

Keying in the ignition, Mishima looked at her grimly. He knew what she meant. The
Dragonstar
was not passing through hyperspace on a lark, or by chance. The unspoken feeling of almost every human in the Saurian Preserve was that the ship was heading toward its destiny ...

THEY WERE
on their way back when the message came over the radio.

“Takamura? Jakes here.”

Takamura took the OTV transceiver from Barkham, let the big man take the controls.

“We read you, Doctor,” Mishima Takamura said. “That other OTV party we sent out this morning:”

“Oh yes. Linden and Marshall, checking out that radiation. A minor excursion, I thought.”

“Problem. They haven’t reported back. I thought since you’re heading back that way, you might be able to stop and check to make sure they’re okay.”

“Just a second, Barkham ... take down the coordinates that Dr. Jakes gives you ... we’re going to have to make a stop.” His face assumed a serious cast. “I want everybody’s weapon out and ready by the time we get there.”

Barkham obeyed, and the others readied their weapons.

“Think there might be trouble?” asked Becky Thalberg, studying him carefully as though taking his measure.

“Linden and Marshall know enough to report back at regular intervals. There must be trouble—and we have to be ready for it.”

“In that case,” said Becky, “I think maybe we should put the dome up as we approach. That way we won’t get plucked out of our seats by strolling dinosaurs.”

He raised an eyebrow.

“Don’t look at me like that—it’s happened. And Mishima—remember, I
know
this place. I’ve been here far too long.” She looked away with a sigh. “And I’m probably gong to be here for a long time more, it would seem.”

“Not if I have anything to do with it, Becky,” said Mishima, quite sincerely.

“Hey, man,” said James Barkham, putting down the transceiver after recording the coordinates. “Now, that’s the kind of talk I like to hear. Don’t count me out till I’m dead! I say if this ship can get us into hyperspace or whatever, it can get out, too!”

“Well, I suppose a little positive thinking never hurt anybody,” said Becky, smiling wryly. “So okay ... how long do you figure it will be until we get to the pit stop?”

“Oh, give it an hour, hour and fifteen,” said Barkham, “unless you want me to put on the pedal, sir.”

“Yes. Do so, please. A pair of lives may be at stake.”

“That’s right, James,” said Becky. “No traffic cops here. You can go past the limit.”

The handsome black man rumbled out a laugh and stepped on the accelerator. The OTV shot forward quickly along a fairly clear path, gaining speed at a remarkable rate. “These mothers can move if you give them half a chance,” said Barkham, eyes shining with glee at the discomfort his passengers clearly were undergoing.

“Very gratifying,” was all Becky Thalberg said, while Takamura held back an order to slow down. This was, after all, an emergency, and he had just given the man leave to do all the speed he could muster. His leadership would not look good if he changed his mind, even if Barkham’s driving was rather breakneck. Doubtless, the man would slow down eventually, even if just a little.

And Barkham indeed did, as soon as they hit rougher terrain—but not by much.

So they barreled through the Mesozoic Preserve, frightening herds of iguanodons and flocks of pterodactyls, collecting a wealth of smashed insects on their windshield.

They made it to the designated coordinates in just over forty-five minutes.

“Look,” said Becky. “There’s the OTV.”

“Seems undamaged,” said Barkham. “And I don’t see any beasties about.”

“Nonetheless, I want your weapons ready for anything,” said Takamura. “Barkham, you stay here while Becky and I check this out.”

“I’ll have my motor running and my rifle cocked,” Barkham said, still excited from the ride.

“You just do that,” said Becky, her eyes taking in the surroundings carefully.

“Let’s go check that OTV,” Takamura said.

The walk to the vehicles proved uneventful, and the OTV was quite empty.

“You say they were checking out radiation?” Becky said. “Shouldn’t we be wearing our suits?”

“Jakes says it’s not harmful radiation.” Mishima examined the interior of the car. “They’ve taken their measurement devices and their weapons. They must be in those rocks yonder. That’s consistent with the coordinates from Jakes;”

They made their way through the rocks, to a clearing. “Oh my God,” said Becky, pointing, “Look, Mishima!”

In the middle of the clearing was a large pool of blood, a smashed piece of equipment, and a severed leg.

She turned away from the sight, hiding her eyes against Takamura’s chest. He put an arm around her to comfort her.

“It looks as though we know what happened to at least, one of them,” he said, his gun raised, carefully looking about for the perpetrator of this horror. He noted the shell casings and splatters of blood all around. “Looks as though they certainly put up a fight!”

“How do we know one didn’t escape? There are plenty of hiding spots in these rocks, surely.”

Takamura nodded grimly. He released Becky and put a hand to his mouth. “Hello!” he cried. “Is anyone there?” No response.

“Linden!” called Becky. “Marshall!”

“Looks like, there’s some sort of cave over there,” said Takamura. “Cover me, Becky. I’m going to take a look at it.”

“Right,” she replied tersely.

It was a small opening, just visible between a pair of upthrust rocks. Takamura approached it with tile safety of his weapon off. It was dark inside, and he could make out nothing.

“Anybody in there?” he called.

Abruptly a shadow parted from the larger shadow and a man stepped out.

“Takamura,” said the man. “Thank. God you’ve come. I was petrified ... I couldn’t move for a while. I don’t know what came over me.”

Takamura recognized the man. It was Timothy Linden. He lowered his weapon.

“What happened?”

“An allosaurus. Sneaked up on us somehow. Grabbed Alexandra ... and—”

Linden began shuddering. “I’m sorry ... you were close, weren’t you?”

“Yes ... yes. I fired God knows how many bullets into the thing and it didn’t stop it. I fled into this cave. The creature didn’t stay long.”

Takamura nodded. “A great tragedy about Marshall, but I am glad you are still alive.” He nodded to the cave. “What is beyond there?”

“Nothing. It only goes back a few meters.”

“But this is the source of the radiation that you and Marshall were investigating?”

“I can’t say ... Marshall had the equipment. It was somewhere around here. The readings should still be -on the central memory unit of the device, I think. God, I just want to get out of here!”

“Yes. We shall go. Go and sit in the car. I will deal with the sensor- device ...”

And with what is left of your companion
, he thought grimly.

* * *

Takamura drove the extra OTV back to base camp, refusing Becky Thalberg’s offer to ride with him. He wanted to be alone for a while, to think and to renew his spiritual strength. It was difficult to lose a crew member. Especially a woman. There was no telling how long this group of human beings would be out in space together. It would be necessary to start families, and women were high priority, for only they could produce children. From now on, he thought, women would go on such expeditions only when absolutely necessary.

He also had a funny feeling about Linden. He couldn’t put his finger on it, but the man just didn’t ring true. Oh yes, he believed the story of the allosaurus ... There was just something else that didn’t seem quite right.

Jakes, of course, was horrified when he heard about the incident via radio. But he was also clearly eager to obtain the memory module from Marshall’s equipment. This radiation business was bizarre stuff, and it was vital that they get to the bottom of it. When they got back to the camp, Linden told his story again to Dr. Jakes, and then was dispatched to sick bay, complaining of sickness and headache. He had to be checked out, anyway, and the man certainly needed a rest.

Thalberg and Barkham went about their business, and when they were gone, Dr. Jakes spoke to Takamura.

“The reason I needed this was that this seems to be the same kind of radiation readings we were getting just before the disaster with some variations of great interest.”

“The memory module will be sufficient, then?”

“It seems intact. I’ll tell you what we find.”

“Odd. When the last recordings of this radiation were made, the natives went insane. Yet they seem quite well now ... and well behaved and cooperative.”

“What can I say? I’ll report to you as soon as possible,” said the doctor.

“Oh, and Dr. Jakes ... please keep an eye on Linden, too. I have this weird sense that he’s not telling us everything.”

Dr. Jakes nodded solemnly, then went about his business.