Wildcatter

“They don’t build the chimneys, but they nest in them, so they’re around here somewhere. Toss some clothes into the shuttle for both of us, please. We’ll have to strip naked to get to it.”

“Your plog ought to be Top of the Pops.”

“Only if it has a happy ending. I must sign off now and get some rest. I haven’t slept in years.”

He checked on Meredith. She was still asleep, her pulse worrisomely faint. He went back to the prospectors’ dormitory and, with a huge sigh of relief, sank down on the lower bunk, which was probably hers. He was asleep before his eyes closed.

Day 414

001.102 potential carrier means a person who has been exposed to an exoplanetary atmosphere, or has in any way whatsoever come into contact with alien life forms, whether visible or microscopic, known or suspected, or who has had any opportunity whatsoever of having been contaminated, directly or indirectly, by alien life forms, known or suspected.

029.07 Potential Carriers shall be quarantined in an approved facility for the greatest of:

[a] Forty days after the possible exposure or contamination,

[b] Forty days after all signs of infection or disease have disappeared,

[c] As long as the responsible medical authority may order.

General Regulations

InterStellar Licensing Authority

2375 edition

Seth was wakened by nothing more deadly or exotic than a full bladder. Nothing less would have done so. For a few moments he was lost and bewildered, wondering where he was, why he ached all over, why he was so hungry. He heaved himself out of bed and went to the toilet.

He checked on Meredith, who was still breathing, but unresponsive. Without prompt medical aid she might never waken. He went back to the cabin and studied the view for a moment. The sun was low, the sky pale blue and cloudless. On both sides and straight ahead the windows looked out on a forest of chimneys, as tall as three-story houses, but rough, irregular, mostly lopsided. At close quarters they were obviously natural, not at all artificial. Looking aft through the starboard ports, he could just make out a featureless plain of rounded boulders and cobbles. The ferny groundcover was barely moving. There was a dry sandy patch not far off.

“Prospector to Golden Hind.”

After a brief delay for relaying, Hanna’s voice answered. “We read you, Seth.”

“What news?”

“Niagara’s on its way. Your pizza will be delivered in about an hour.”

“I won’t say no to that. Weather couldn’t be better. About a hundred meters west looks dead flat. I’d better go out and take a look. I’ll call… Can you see what I see?”

Centaurs were emerging from the chimneys, scrambling down the sides backwards. Those claws had more uses than just catching fish. There were dozens of the critters-scores, more than a hundred. He couldn’t hear through the glass, but he could tell by their movements that they were excited and jabbering. It seemed odd that they had not noticed the remains of Mercury on their doorstep before now. Then he realized that they were gathering under his window to stare up at him. It was not the shuttle that had excited them, it was its occupant. Mothers were pointing him out to their babies.

“They’re so cute!” Hanna said. “They look like little medieval war horses caparisoned for jousting.”

Horses did not have pointed teeth like these critters. On impulse, Seth waved. Instantly fifty or sixty flippers waved back at him, each little “arm” flapping a black-and-white flag. He waved both hands. They copied him again, and he had a strange feeling that they were laughing. Monkey see, monkey do.

“I’m going out to inspect the landing site,” he said. “I daren’t take my com or my video with me. Prospector out.” He cut off Hanna’s squawk of alarm.

He had no shoes. Back in the prospectors’ dormitory he found a heap of clothes on the topmost bunk. A glance at the shirt showed that they had belonged to the late Dylan Guinizelli, whom Meredith had called a big man. Big, as in huge. Here Dylan had stripped down to put on his EVA suit, but he had been treated in the infirmary and never returned for them. Seth could see no footwear, but the dead prospector’s shoes would not have fitted him anyway. He had reached the exterior door before he realized that the door opened downward, to double as a ladder.

“Prospector to Golden Hind. Disregard previous message. Planned EVA is cancelled. The shuttle has no power, so I won’t be able to close the darned thing once I open it.” Centaurs were nimble climbers.

“Which is what I was trying to tell you, you muscle-bound bonehead!”

From Hanna, that was gutter talk. He was amused.

“If I wasn’t what you just called me, I wouldn’t be here, now would I? How long is the weather window?”

“Three hours or more. Not counting clear air turbulence, of course. You should have plenty of time.”

“Meredith’s in a coma. I’ll try to carry her, but it won’t be easy and it won’t be quick.” If the centaurs got in his way, it would probably be impossible.