Crashlander

I knew they needed me. They couldn't dispose of Emil until they had me. Granted that they could find me as soon as it got dark; I'd stand out like a beacon on a heat sensor. But suppose I reached the car first?

The car! Sure, that was it. While I was crouching somewhere or taking a tangled trail that would keep me hidden at all times, Bellamy or one of his men was taking the shortest, straightest route to my car. To move it before I could reach it.

I pounded my head to get it working. No use. I was stymied. The cave? I'd find guns in there, hunting guns. The anesthetic slivers probably wouldn't work on human beings, but they might be poisonous — and they would certainly hurt. But no, I couldn't attack the cave. There'd be no way around the booby trap.

But there'd be someone in there to turn the booby trap on and off and to guard Lloobee. Another on the way to the car, that made two.

The third would have found some high point, chosen days previously for its view of the surroundings. He'd be waiting now for a glimpse of my snow-white hair. I couldn't break and run for the car.

Maybe.

And maybe the third man had been the first to come charging after me. And maybe he'd snatched at the trigger cord as he passed to turn off a police stunner that was already off. And maybe he'd run through the beam.

Maybe.

But if anyone reached the car, I was cooked.

I spun it over and over while handfuls of needed seconds passed me by. There was no other way to figure it. Tanya was back at camp. A second man was in the cave; a third was on the way to the car. The fourth either was waiting for me to show myself or he wasn't. I had to risk it.

I came out from under the roots, running.

I'm good at sprinting, not so good at a long-distance run. The edge of the forest was half a mile away. I was walking when I got there and blowing like a city-sized air pump. There was no sign of anyone and no sign of the car. I stood just within the forest, sucking wind, nerving myself to run out into the fern grass.

Then Bellamy emerged to my left. He dog-trotted fearlessly out onto the veldt, into the fern grass, and stood looking around. One of Emil's sonics dangled from one hand. He must have known by then that it was only a dueling pistol, but it was the only sonic he had.

He saw something to his right, something hidden from me by a curve of forest. He turned and trotted toward it.

I followed as best I could. Multicolored things kept tripping me, and I didn't dare step out into the fern grass. Bellamy was going to get there first …

He was examining the car when I found him. The car was right out in the open, tens of yards from any cover. Any second now he'd get in and take off.

What was he waiting for? Me?

I knelt behind a magenta bush, dithering. Bellamy was peering into the backseat. He wanted to know just what we'd planned before he made his move. Every two seconds his head would pop up for a long, slow look around.

A black dot in the distance caught my eye. It took me a moment to realize that it was in the plastic goggles, blotting out the dot of actinic sunlight. The sun was right on the horizon.

Bellamy was opening the trunk.

… The sun.

I started circling. The magenta bushes offered some cover, and I used it all. Bellamy's eyes maintained their steady sweep, but they hadn't found me yet.

Abruptly he slammed the trunk, circled the car to get in.

I was where I wanted to be. My long shadow pointed straight at the car. I charged.

He looked up as I started. He looked straight at me, and then his eyes swept the curve of forest, taking their time. He bent to get into the car, and then he saw me. But his gun hand was in the car, and I was close enough. The dots on his goggles had covered more than CY Aquarii. They'd covered my approach.

My shoulder knorked him spinning away from the car, and I heard a metal tick. He got up fast, empty-handed. No gun. He'd dropped it. I turned to look in the car, fully expecting to find it on the floor or on the seat. It was nowhere to be seen. I looked back in time to duck, and his other hand caught me and knocked me away. I rolled with it and came to my feet.

He was standing in a relaxed boxer stance between me and the car.

«I'm going to break you, Bey.»

«So you can't find the gun, either.»

«I don't need it. Any normal ten-year-old could break you in two.»

«Tben come on.» I dropped into boxer stance, thanking Finagle that he didn't know karate or ju-whatsis or any of the other illegal killing methods. Hundreds of years had passed since the usual laws against carrying a concealed weapon were extended to cover special fighting methods, but Bellamy had had hundreds of years to learn. I'd come up lucky.

He came toward me, moving lightly and confidently, a flatlander in prime condition. He must have felt perfectly safe. What could he have to fear from an attenuated weakling, a man born and raised in We Made It's point six gee? He grinned when he was almost in range, and I hit him in the mouth.

My range was longer than his.