Apes and Angels Read online

As they waded across the village compound, fighting against the raging wind, Brad heard a prayer in his own mind: Yea, though I walk through the valley of the shadow of death …

  And suddenly there was death standing less than fifty meters in front of them in the pelting rain. A drenched monster from Beta glowered at them, its head lowered, its fangs bared.

  Another huge cat splashed through the floodwaters to stand beside the first. And a third joined them. Brad saw that their muzzles were dark with crusted Gamman blood, despite the rain.

  They can’t be hungry, he thought. Not after gorging on the Folk in the hut.

  But the cats paced slowly toward them, spreading out slightly as they came. Cutting off our line of retreat, Brad thought; trying to surround us. Then he felt inane. As if we could run away in these floodwaters.

  Drrm and Lnng were on either side of him, frozen with terror. The cats kept padding closer. Brad’s mind was churning: There goes my idea that they ignore you if you stand still. Something deep inside him was screaming, Run, run!

  Before the cats could come close enough to leap at them, Brad raised his pistol and shot the nearest through its left eye. The monster yowled and writhed, then collapsed with a splash.

  The other two paid no attention. They kept on coming. And Brad heard a growl from somewhere in the darkness behind them. Turning, he saw two more cats slinking toward them from the other direction.

  He turned back and fired at the closest one, burning a line through its shoulder. It howled and shuddered but still kept coming, limping badly.

  “There’s too many!” Lnng cried.

  “Stand your ground,” Brad commanded, hoping that the computer could translate his words adequately as he fired at the wounded cat. It shuddered and sank into the wave-filled water.

  At his side, Lnng shouted, “Drrm, no!”

  Brad saw the village leader walking straight at the two cats behind him. Turning back, he saw the two in front of him crouching, ready to spring. He shot one in the neck, nearly severing its head as its companion leaped at him. Brad’s laser beam burned into the beast’s chest, between its forelegs. It howled as it slammed into Brad, knocking him into the choppy water. Brad felt as if he’d been hit by a truck as he toppled backwards into the water, the monster on top of him.

  But the brute didn’t move, didn’t slash with its claws or bite with its fangs. Painfully, Brad struggled out from under its dead body.

  As he climbed to his feet, he saw that Drrm was between him and the other two cats.

  “Drrm, get out of the way!”

  But the village chief simply replied, “It is our way, Brrd.” And he kept walking toward the cats, who had stopped and were watching his approach, heads lowered, bellies in the water. Lnng stood to one side, petrified, and watched Drrm wading slowly toward the waiting cats.

  Brad rushed past Lnng, trying to get an angle for shooting the monsters. Drrm was muttering again. Brad’s computer translated, “Sacrifice … new Folk … death brings life…”

  With a sudden roar one of the cats leaped at Drrm, knocking him down, splashing into the water. Instantly the second cat joined in the killing. Brad shot them both; it took several shots before the laser beam found their vital spots.

  Drrm lay between the two fallen monsters, one arm torn from his shoulder, his face and chest furrowed with slashes from their claws.

  “It is our way,” he breathed. Then his eyes closed.

  Furious, Brad wanted to chop the cats into mincemeat, but his rational mind countermanded his seething emotions. Save the pistol’s energy. You’ll probably need it before the day’s over.

  DISCOVERY

  Quentin Abbott was almost always cool, calm, collected. Almost always.

  But he burst into Kosoff’s office, startling the mission director and Littlejohn, who were intently watching the holographic video from Gamma.

  Half rising from his desk chair, Kosoff growled, “What do you mean by bursting in here? Can’t you see—”

  “We’ve found it!” Abbott fairly shouted. “We know how those animals cross from Beta to Gamma! It’s fantastic!”

  “This isn’t the time—”

  “No, no, no!” Abbott insisted. “You’ve got to see this! Now!”

  Abbott’s usual stiff-upper-lip reserve was completely gone. He was practically prancing with excitement. Kosoff saw that the astronomer’s tunic was rumpled, its front half unsealed, as if the man had been sleeping in it. A patch of his silver-gray hair flopped down messily over his eyes.

  “They ride their eggs from Beta to Gamma, like pumpkin seeds shot through the air!”

  Intrigued despite himself, Kosoff eased back down onto his desk chair and said grudgingly, “Show me.”

  Abbott turned toward the three-dimensional viewer and called out, “Master computer, show Astronomy Department vid, today’s date.”

  The holographic display switched from Brad and the Gammans to a satellite view of the planet Beta. Off in one corner of the scene was an animated graph that showed Beta and Gamma rushing toward each other.

  “That’s where they were the day before yesterday,” Abbott said, his tone changed to his lecture mode, but with an edge of excitement in it.

  Still on his feet, he pointed as he said, “The two planets will pass each other close enough so that their atmospheres are sucked into a sort of spinning vortex, like a waterspout that temporarily connects the two of them.”

  The view of Beta clouded over rapidly while the animation showed a twisting, twining bridge linking the planet with Gamma.

  “This presentation is all speeded up, of course,” Abbott explained eagerly. “Factor of thirty-six hundred: one second on-screen represents ten hours in real time. I can move it faster still if you like.”

  Kosoff said, “This will do. For now.”

  The satellite view of Beta zoomed in dizzyingly.

  “Here’s the ground on Beta,” said Abbott. “You can see how the wind is picking up. Near hurricane force and getting stronger.”

  Littlejohn said, “Those rocks look like—”

  “They’re eggs!” Abbott interrupted. “Each one of them bears one of those six-legged cats.”

  “But how—”

  As they watched, one of the boulder-sized eggs lifted off the ground and began rising, spinning, fluttering in the swirling wind. The animation showed tiny dots flowing from Beta to Gamma.

  “They’re not boulders, of course. Much lighter. Light enough to ride on the wind currents from Beta to Gamma.”

  “Impossible,” spat Kosoff.

  “But true,” Abbott countered. “Watch.”

  As he spoke, the holotank went dark.

  Unperturbed, Abbott explained, “The satellites were torn from their orbits. Flung to god knows where by the gravitational forces of the two planets’ near collision.”

  The three-dimensional view lit up again to show a scene of stormy skies, torrential rain pouring down, and in the distance a forest of massive trees being tossed and even uprooted by tremendous winds.

  “That’s the view from the ground on Gamma,” Abbott said matter-of-factly. “From one of the sensors your planetology people strewed around on the surface. We lost several of them, of course. Hurricane-force winds and then some.”

  A meteor trail blazed across the dark sky.

  “One of the eggs,” said Abbott.

  Kosoff snarled, “You can’t expect me to believe that those objects are eggs, the same as we’ve seen on Beta.” With a sneer, he added, “They’d be fried by the heat of entry into Gamma’s atmosphere. And scrambled, as well.”

  “Watch.”

  Another meteor flashed past, and then they saw one of the boulder-sized objects soar over the forest and glide toward the ground, its nose and flattish bottom charred black. It tipped slightly upward just before it landed and skidded a few dozen meters on the rain-soaked ground before coming to a jarring halt.

  Kosoff stared at the screen. In the driving rain, he could see the object
’s skin crack open, and a powerful-looking six-legged cat struggle out of its egg.

  Littlejohn gasped with awe. “They are eggs. Like the ones we saw on Beta.”

  “They are indeed eggs,” Abbott said, sounding proud. “There’s your proof.”

  “It’s fantastic,” Littlejohn said.

  “But it’s true,” countered Abbott.

  “And these beasts kill the Gammans?” Kosoff asked.

  “Apparently they do,” Abbott said. “Not my department, of course. You’ll have to ask the biologists about that.” Then he added, “We’ve had splendid cooperation from the planetology team; the observations from Gamma’s surface are their work, of course.”

  “Of course,” Kosoff muttered.

  Finally dropping into one of the cushioned chairs in front of Kosoff’s desk, Abbott summed up, “So the Beta beasts ride the vortex between the two planets and land on Gamma. Quite fantastic, isn’t it?”

  Kosoff nodded. “I see it, but I still find it hard to believe.”

  Littlejohn added, “And the beasts annihilate the Gammans.”

  “Apparently so.”

  “Then what happens to them?”

  Abbott shrugged. “Not my department. Ask the biologists. But my guess is that those great cats die off when Gamma enters the deep-freeze part of its orbit.”

  “I should think so,” said Kosoff, still staring at the three-dimensional display.

  “You’ve got a man down there, haven’t you?” Abbott asked.

  “Yes. He’s with the Gammans.”

  “Rather a dicey situation for him, I should think.”

  “To say the least,” replied Littlejohn.

  Kosoff raised a stubby finger. “Wait. There’s much more to this than you realize.”

  “More? What more?”

  “This can’t be natural,” Kosoff said. “A predator born on one planet, flying a sort of spacecraft to find its prey on another planet. An occurrence that only happens once in half a century or so, when the two planets are closest to one another.”

  Suddenly looking uncomfortable, Littlejohn suggested, “Maybe the biologists can explain it.”

  Kosoff swung his head negatively. “It’s not natural,” he insisted.

  UNDER SIEGE

  Brad and Lnng sloshed through the knee-deep water back to the longhouse. The roaring wind was so strong it was difficult to stay on their feet, and they had to dodge wind-blown debris that sailed through the rain like unguided missiles.

  He just let the cats kill him, Brad kept thinking. Drrm committed suicide rather than change his way of living. He sacrificed himself, for what? For his sense of right and wrong? For his morality? His religion?

  Lnng also stayed silent as they made their painful way back. He must be thinking about Drrm, too, Brad told himself. Maybe he’s wondering if he should let the cats get him. Maybe he’s thinking they should all surrender to the cats.

  As if he could read Brad’s mind, Lnng shouted over the howling wind, “Are you truly sent to us by the Sky Masters, Brrd?”

  For several heartbeats Brad remained silent, thinking, Don’t make claims that can come back to haunt you. People who are willing to die for their beliefs can be more than willing to kill a stranger for their beliefs.

  “My village is in the sky, Lnng. My people made this gun,” he held up the pistol, “so that I can kill the monsters.”

  Lnng fell silent. Trying to digest what I’ve told him, Brad knew. Trying to assimilate new information that contradicts everything he’s known all his life.

  As he slogged through the rain and wind and knee-deep water, Brad thought, I’m in real trouble with Kosoff. I’ve broken all the rules about first contact with an alien species.

  But what else could I do? he asked himself. Stand by and watch the cats slaughter them? Let the monsters kill me, too?

  As they approached the longhouse, Brad realized that Kosoff hadn’t called him for some time. Much more than the usual three-minute lag from Alpha. Well, what’s he going to say to me? That he’s pissed off with what I’ve been doing? That he’s taking me off the contact assignment? Not much he can say, not right now.

  They reached the building at last. Lnng banged on the door, shouting, “Let us in!”

  The door swung open. Brad saw that it was Mnnx who opened it. They stepped inside and Mnnx pushed it shut again. Several dozen Gammans stood huddled behind him, most of them carrying their pitiful little hunting sticks.

  “Where is Drrm?” asked Mnnx.

  “Dead,” answered Lnng. “The cats got him.”

  “Dead?”

  “There were five of them,” Lnng said. Even in the computer’s translation, the words sounded excited. “Five! Brrd killed them all. But before he could get the last two, they killed Drrm.”

  The Gammans fell silent.

  Then Lnng went on, “Drrm went to the cats willingly.”

  “That is the right thing to do,” one of the others said.

  “No!” Lnng snapped. “The right thing to do is to save ourselves, to kill the monsters from Beta, to—”

  A roar from the unshielded window silenced the Gamman. Brad saw one of the cats squeezing its bulk through the window, snarling at them.

  The Gammans stood and stared. Several of them dropped their hunting sticks. They simply stood in the knee-deep water and watched their deaths wriggling through the window to get at them.

  Icily calm, Brad drew his pistol, extended his arm and aimed, then pulled the trigger. The brilliant red laser beam lanced through the darkness and hit the cat slightly behind his head. Brad whipsawed the beam, searching for the animal’s spine. The beam found it and the cat collapsed as if a switch in its body had turned off. It hung in the window frame, halfway inside the building.

  “Leave it there,” Brad said. “It blocks the window. It will keep other cats from getting through.”

  Then he noticed that not one of the Gammans had made a move toward the beast, even though it was quite obviously dead.

  Brad felt weary, but he said, “I’d better go upstairs, in case another monster makes it to the roof.”

  “I will go with you,” said Lnng.

  “I too,” Mnnx said.

  While the others stayed on the ground floor, out of the rain, and climbed up on furniture to get out of the water, the three of them trudged up the stairs.

  Mnnx asked, “Brrd, how do you kill the monsters?”

  Brad hesitated, thinking, Put it in terms they can understand. No magic, no mythology.

  Raising his pistol, Brad answered, “The red beam cuts like a scythe.”

  “It must be very strong.”

  “It is.”

  As they stepped across the upper floor, Brad thought that the rain seemed to have slackened a bit. Wishful thinking, he told himself. The deluge still poured through the shattered roof. Looking up into it, though, Brad thought the sky seemed a bit brighter than it had earlier.

  Of course, he realized. It must be close to noon by now.

  Mnnx crawled beneath one of the tables. “There is room here for all three of us,” he said.

  Lnng ducked in beside him. Brad did, too, although he stayed near the table’s end, where he could keep an eye on the roofline.

  “Keep watch on the roofline,” he told his two companions.

  “The rain will be stopping soon,” said Mnnx.

  “Yes,” Lnng agreed.

  Trying to sound optimistic, Brad thought. With an inner sigh, he told himself, Well, if Kosoff won’t call you, you’d better call him. Bring him up to date.

  But when Brad switched to the comm channel, all he got was a hiss of static.

  What’s happened? he wondered.

  “Emcee,” he called. “What’s wrong?”

  No answer. Sudden panic flared inside him. Brad realized he was entirely on his own on planet Gamma.

  CUT OFF

  Kosoff stirred in his desk chair and opened his eyes. His eyelids felt gummy, heavy.

  I must
have drifted to sleep, he realized.

  Littlejohn was sitting in the chair to one side of his desk, head flung back, mouth hanging open, snoring lightly.

  Kosoff remembered Abbott leaving the office, practically bouncing with self-satisfaction at having found how the big cats crossed from Beta to Gamma.

  I must have drowsed off, Kosoff thought, watching MacDaniels killing the cats, trying to save the Gammans from extinction. Breaking all the rules and irretrievably destroying everything the Gammans believed in.

  He shook his head, trying to clear the cobwebs from his mind.

  Those egg things the cats use to ride from Beta to Gamma, he remembered. They’re not natural. They can’t be. An incubation system that’s also a spacecraft. It’s got to be the product of a high technology. A technology higher than our own, he thought. It’s got to be. But whose? Surely the cats themselves couldn’t have produced such a technology. It’s somebody else, a species we haven’t met yet. They’re hiding from us on Beta.

  Who? How? Why? The questions tumbled through Kosoff’s mind.

  Then he realized that the holotank was dark. At the bottom of its display area a message blinked, SIGNAL LOST. SIGNAL LOST. SIGNAL LOST.

  Kosoff immediately called out, “Emcee, what’s happened to the signal from Gamma?”

  The master computer’s avatar appeared and calmly answered, “Transmission from Gamma was interrupted seventeen minutes ago. Attempts to regain the signal have been unsuccessful, so far.”

  Staring at the avatar’s totally calm image, Kosoff felt real fear for the first time in his adult life.

  * * *

  Huddled under the table with the two Gammans, Brad punched out the code for fault analysis on his wrist keyboard with trembling fingers.

  The suit’s computer flashed its message on the inner surface of his helmet. SIGNAL LOST.

  Signal lost? Brad asked himself. The signal from Alpha, from the ship? What’s happened to it? Is Felicia in danger? Hurt? Killed?

  Then he took a deep breath and forced himself to calm down. Think rationally, he demanded. The ship’s in orbit around Alpha, thirty-some million klicks from here. These storms can’t bother it. If the signal’s lost, it must be from this end.