Dinosaurus Planet Survivors
- Автор: Маккефри Энн
- Серия: Dinosaur Planet #2
- Язык: английский
- Жанр: Научная фантастика
Электронная книга - «Dinosaurus Planet Survivors». Краткое содержание книги:
“Now? Or then?” He covered his chagrin with anger.
“Either.”
“Paskutti and Bakkun who was my grandsire.”
“Paskutti? Bakkun? Those are not the leaders of record. This is all very strange. You mentioned one survivor of the original group?”
“Tanegli, but he is failing,” and that frailty was anathema to Aygar’s youthful strength, “so his passing will occur in the near future.”
“Tanegli? What of Kai, Varian? The physician, Lunzie, the chemist Trizein.”
Aygar’s face was closed. “I’ve never heard those names. Six survived the stampede which overran the original camp?”
“Stampede?”
Aygar gestured irritably toward the far distant herbivores. “They panic easily, and panicked on the day my grandsire and the other five nearly died.” He grounded his spear and straightened in pride. “Had they not had the strength of three men, they would not have out run the herd that day!”
“Stampede?” Varian looked at the peaceful grazers as if assessing their potential. “Yes, well, I can imagine that a mass of them in hysterical flight might short even a large force field. And that certainly explains why only stubs of the plastic supports remain at the original site. Where are you now located? At the secondary camp?”
“No,” he said and took the largest of his two knives with which he proceeded to hack at the softer belly hide of the dead beast. He had to use both hands and great effort to penetrate the thick tissue. “Once the power for the force field was exhausted,” he continued, spacing his words between grunts as he made incisions, “the night creatures attacked. We live in caves, near the iron workings. We live on the flesh of animals that we trap or kill in chase,” he went on with cold vehemence. “We live and we die. This is our world now. You arrive too late to be any use to us. Go!”
“Keep a polite tongue in your head, young man, when speaking to me,” Varian said in a colder voice, summoning Discipline to every fiber of her body.
He rose, tossing down the bloody hunk of meat he had just carved. His eyes narrowed at the tone she had used, but she preferred to precipitate an incident while she was at full Discipline, and when he had just concluded a wearying run.
“We no longer recognize the authority of those who abandoned us to this savage world.”
“This world, Ireta, belongs to the Federated sentient Planets, young man, and you cannot-”
He made his move, goaded, as she had hoped, by her insufferable attitude. As she had expected, he came for her in a frontal attack, secure in his advantage of height and strength; swinging one arm wide, hand open, aimed to connect with the side of her head and knock her senseless. Had she not had the training of Discipline, she would probably have been crushed against fang-face, possibly skewered on a finely sharp claw. As it was, she caught his hand, used his forward momentum against him and threw him heavily to the ground.
Skilled in rough-and-tumble fighting he was up in a moment, but it was clear that his confidence as well as his body had been badly shaken by that fall. She didn’t want to humiliate him for he was an intelligent, extremely attractive man who believed what he said about abandonment. But, unless she could prove herself superior to him, she would jeopardize the scheme she had in mind. And she must remember that her effectiveness now would protect Kai, Lunzie, and the sleepers in the space shuttle.
She ignored his feint to the right but she was surprised as he launched himself into the air in an attempt to tackle her about the legs. Her reflexes were far quicker than his. She was above him as he dove and came down on his back, digging her fingers to the necessary nerve point through almost impenetrably hard muscles while she locked her other arm under his chin, forcing his head back. He tried to roll with her but she caught her legs under his, forcing them with Discipline strength so far apart that a gasp of pain was wrung from him. She heard his ill-used garment split.
“In most cultures which settle differences by physical combat,” she said in an even voice that did not indicate the strain under which she labored, “two falls out of three-and I assure you there would be a third for you-generally result in victory for the quicker opponent. I use the term “quicker” because that is basically one of the advantages I have over you: my training in hand-to-hand combat was conducted by masters of the martial arts. I will of course never mention this incident to anyone. I also can not allow you to persist in your aggression toward me or any other member of my mission, which has been sent to discover the whereabouts of the previous expedition and (and/or its…) or its survivors. I can assure you that the policy of the FSP and EEC allows generous terms to people in your position. Will you accept release in good faith, or will I be forced to turn your head just that fraction more which will crack the first and second vertebrae?”
She felt him swallow in an agony not purely physical.
“Do you accept?”
“You win!” The reluctant admission came through gritted teeth.
“I don’t win anything.” She made due note of his phraseology-“you win not I accept,” and respected him. Slowly she released her grip on his legs, before loosening the neck lock and the nerve pinch. A tiny, additional squeeze on the nerve as she released her fingers insured her time to rise and move a suitable distance from him in case combat honor was no longer a principle in his adaptation.
He rose slowly, swallowing against a dry and strained throat. He made no move to massage the nerve pinch although his arm hung limply and ought to be painful. He also ignored his damaged clothing. She kept her eyes on his face, now some what obscured by the swarms of blooding insects whizzing about them and the carcass. He drew in deep breaths, his face expressionless, and she could easily understand her perturbation. The man was muscled, not as a heavyworlder against the constant pull of gravity, but there couldn’t be a milligram of unnecessary flesh on him: he was truly one of the most beautiful men in form and face that she had ever seen. She regretted having had to best him with the unfair advantage of her Discipline. Raised by heavyworlder notions, there would be no forgiveness in him, for her. Nor could she ever explain why she had been able to throw him.
“Your physical strength was unexpected, Rianav.”
“I have often found it so, Aygar, although I dislike having to resort to such exhibitions. I am a reasonable person, for reason tends to secure a more lasting outcome than a show of physical force.”
“Reason? And honor?” He gave a dry sour laugh. “To have abandoned a small geological group on a savage world.”
Varian opened her hands in a gesture of regret. “It is a risk of the Service which we all-”
“I did not. I had no option.”
“In justice, you have the right to be bitter. You are the innocent victim of circumstances beyond ordinary control. The ARCT-10, the vessel which landed the Iretan expedition, is still missing.”
“Missing? For forty-three years?” His contempt was obvious. “Were you looking for it when you found this beacon of yours?”
“Not exactly but our code requires that we responded to your distress call.”
“Not mine. My grandparents-”
“The call was heard and our ship has responded, who ever made the original signal.”
“I’m supposed to be grateful for that?” He resumed his slicing of meat from the ribs of the monster, discarding the initial hunk, which was already crawling with winged vermin. Despite Discipline, Varian found herself revolted by his activity. “Forty-three years to answer a distress call? Mighty efficient organization, yours. Well, we’ve survived and we’ll continue to. We don’t need your help-now.”