Koban (46 page)

Maggi took the lead, “There are a lot of Doctors in our group,
Colonel, and all of them really are in the biological sciences. The Flight of Fancy
was chartered by a consortium of Universities to transport our staff to an orbital
research station named Midwife.

“The station had the misfortune to be orbiting a world called
Newborn, well beyond the Rim worlds. We were planning to do research on the rare
emerging primitive life there. The Krall had already stumbled on our station before
we did our White Out. I’m sure you can piece together what they did when they detected
our emergence and radio calls.”

Mollified for the moment, he replied, “Yes, that particular sequence
of events has been repeated at least a hundred times.”

“A hundred?” questioned Mirikami. “I don’t think we spotted more
than a dozen wrecked human ships on the tarmac as we landed.”

“Most ships aren’t even flight worthy after capture, let alone
Jump capable. If they aren’t close enough to Koban they don’t bring them anyway.
They have faster Jump capability than we do, and no patience. But we can discuss
this in my quarters, away from these spineless pricks.” He waved at the crowd below
and the hundred or so people standing well away from them along the wide balcony.

“Please, follow me. It isn’t very far.” He preceded them to a
corridor opening and turned in to that. It was wide, a radial corridor that appeared
to lead all the way to the edge of the dome. There was light coming in windows at
the end.

The hallway was well lit by continuous glow strips along the
ceiling. They passed several other wide cross-corridors that circled the dome. There
were closed doorways spaced periodically along all the corridors they saw, with
some sort of script on the doors, and at intersections.

As they walked Greeves didn’t speak, and only occasionally glanced
back to see if they were keeping up with his moderate pace. Mirikami suspected he
was taking it slow for people not yet adapted to Koban’s gravity.

Maggi tapped his arm, and Mirikami looked over at her. She didn’t
speak, but gestured at her tattoo, and pointed at Greeves just ahead, then at her
tattoo again. Dillon also saw what she did, but both men shrugged and shook their
heads to indicate they didn’t get her message. She made a small wave as if to say
it wasn’t important right now.

When they reached the end of the long hall, they could see there
were large windows, almost floor to ceiling. They allowed them to see the Flight
of Fancy in the afternoon sun light, off to their left, with people still coming
across. The windows apparently went all the way around the dome, forming the outside
wall of each level.

Greeves turned left again at the end of the radial hall, and
taking a few steps said, “This is it.”

He stopped at a closed door with a small panel inset next to
it. Shielding the panel with his body, he entered a series of taps or presses. There
was an audible click, and Greeves pushed the door inwards.

“Welcome to my personal fortress,” and he waved them to enter.

As they walked in, Mirikami noted that it was furnished sparsely
with a mixture of salvaged ship chairs and couches, and a bunk. These were not Smart
furniture, as used on commercial ships like the Flight of Fancy, which had to consider
the comfort of its paying passengers on long Jumps. These were items probably taken
from some of the older and smaller wrecks outside. A number of things were homemade,
and clearly made from local trees and plants.

There was a strikingly attractive wooden table with blue and
yellow streaked wood, four matching chairs, and a few baskets made of woven teal
fibers. However, the size of his quarters was the greatest surprise. It was perhaps
one hundred feet long by fifty wide and a fifteen-foot ceiling with glow strips.
The long walls followed the gentle curve of the outside corridor. A second door
to the outer corridor door was at the far end, and two closed doors were on the
opposite wall. The furniture was all clustered near the door they had entered, making
the large room look nearly empty.

As Mirikami passed Greeves, he glanced at his V-neck shirt. The
latter was a human fashion concession to ensure the Krall could see everyone’s tattoo.
The Colonel’s tattoo had a small splash of color. One blue and one red, at the top
of the oval. It was similar to the multicolored dots and blobs inside the Krall’s
own tattoos.

Greeves pulled chairs away from the table, in an obvious invitation
to sit, so they did. Reaching into a basket by a table leg, he pulled out four green
plastic bottles and placed them on the table. He took the fourth chair.

The bottles turned out to be standard looking transparent water
bottles that only looked green because of the translucent liquid inside.

“These are better served cold, but I don’t have a refrigeration
unit in here like the standard living cubicles do. But those cubicles don’t lock,
and this one does. The fruit for this juice is local; it grows close to the forest
on low shrubs, and has a combination flavor of sweet and tangy at the same time.
I don’t know of an exact match from any world, but it is citrus like. It can be
an acquired taste.”

He unscrewed his obviously reused container, and took a deep
swig to show them it was actually drinkable. His guests tried theirs with a bit
more caution, with small sips. Then all three demonstrated approval by taking larger
swallows.

“That really is tangy,” agreed Dillon. “But the aftertaste is
sweet. I think I’d agree it seems like it has a bit of citrus flavor. But of course,
that can’t be true. Are a lot of fruits, plants, and animals digestible here? That’s
highly unusual.”

“I’m not all that familiar with what should or shouldn’t be safe
to eat on different worlds, Doctor. Some of the people here were surprised, however.
Like any world, there are fruits and berries here you should not to eat, as we learned
the hard way by trial and error.

“This particular plant is deadly if you aren’t careful, but not
from its fruit, it has natural defenses. The leaves seem to be toxic to native animals,
though we never tried them. It’s the thorns that will flat kill you if you don’t
expect a plant to actively swat you.”

Maggi said, “Swat you?”

“Yes indeed. They have a trigger mechanism in a number of tightly
coiled branches that cause them to uncoil faster than you can pull away if you pick
a fruit. When you get a thorn in a hand or arm, the only thing to do is to amputate
in the first minute. We haven’t saved the life of anyone when we didn’t do that.
Even the Krall, who like the fruit won’t reach in and pick one.”

“How do you get the fruit?” Maggi wanted to know.

“Unlike a lot of things here, people are still smarter than plants.
We use a mechanical picker that you need to wash off the handle after using. The
thorns are coated with a paralyzing neurotoxin. Fortunately it hasn’t evolved to
throw the thorns or I wouldn’t go pick the fruit.”

“What do you call it?” Mirikami asked. “It seems worth the effort
for the flavor.”

“I’ve heard it called ‘Sweet Agony,’ but I preferred ‘Death Lime’
after I tasted it. The fruit is fist sized and green, and its pulp tastes just as
good.”

In a change of subject, Dillon had also seen what Maggi had tried
to get them to notice about his tattoo. He came right out and asked. “Colonel, your
tattoo is the only one I’ve seen here that has anything inside it, at least on a
human. What does that mean?”

“It’s partly what has kept me alive, and at the same time nearly
got me killed earning them. The red one represents my immunity, although that’s
actually just its effect rather than what it stands for.”

“And what do they stand for, Colonel?” Maggi asked.

“The blue mark I received from the Krall when my hunting party
completed a rhinolo hunt with a kill, and we were able to bring back the meat. Three
other people with me on that hunt earned the same mark.” He pointed towards the
door they had entered. Over the top was mounted a set of three teal horns on a plaque
of wood like that of the table.

There was a three foot curved central horn that went from a thick
oval base to a thin tapering point, and two shorter horns to the left and right
of the big one. These were perhaps a foot and a half long each, and tapered to points
that looked a bit blunted or worn. The small horns were set almost at right angles
to the large one, and slanted a bit towards the floor. If the normal position of
that array on a live animal were with the large horn more or less vertical, then
the eighteen inchers would stick out to the sides, and forward.

“Deadly looking,” stated Mirikami. “I imagine they are truly
impressive on a herd of live animals. I understand they are very fast and hard to
bring down.”

“That they are. This one brought down a fifth person with us
on the hunt. Because of its preoccupation with her, the other four of us had side
shots that managed to take out a front leg. We killed it with belly shots under
its armored hide, after it fell over.”

“You said ‘preoccupation with her’ Colonel,” said Maggi. “I take
it that is a euphemism for it killing her, isn’t it? You said only four of you earned
the mark for the hunt.”

“Euphemism…,” he repeated slowly. “Yes, you are quite correct.
It’s still difficult to say it right out, to describe how it attacked her and what
it did to Valerie.” The pain was evident in his eyes and his voice.

“I’m sorry, Colonel. I didn’t mean to be insensitive. Was she
a friend?”

“She was one of the four surviving members of my security detachment;
we went together on that hunt. She was my responsibility, but also a friend and
companion in this alien environment.”

“I heard you say you were now the last survivor of the humans
captured from your ship,” noted Dillon. “If the other three people with you were
part of that detachment, what happened to them, if you don’t object to my asking?”

“I don’t object. This is part of the reason I invited you up
to talk. To warn you of how things work here.” He took a swallow of his drink.

“All of them are dead now. Two died in the action that earned
me the red mark that provides my immunity from future combat. They worked together
with me to set up an ambush to lure and kill a warrior out on the testing grounds.
I’m the only one of the three of us that survived the day.” He said this all without
any sound of pride of accomplishment.

“There were six others in that combat test group with us, who
all chose to hide rather than participate in the ambush. Without their guns to help
us, that wounded warrior, even missing an arm still managed to kill my two companions
before I could finish him off with a head shot. My survival always seems to be connected
to my friends providing a ‘preoccupation’ for me.” He sounded bitter as well as
sad.

“And so you don’t feel the need to ask,” He added, “My final
detachment member was killed in another combat trial, trying to organize an ambush
as my team had done. Except his support team turned and ran, so they all died on
that Testing Day.

“By the way, Testing Day is what we call any day a human team
is sent out to face a Krall hunter-killer team,” he explained.

“Is what we were told accurate, that surviving a day’s combat
when a warrior is killed earns immunity for everyone on that team?” Mirikami wanted
to know this.

“Oh, the Krall, bloody bastard killers that they are, honor their
few promises to us. The other four surviving cowards on my team’s Testing Day were
granted immunity as well. A fifth person, a woman, died from a skeeter attack while
hiding, another woman was stung and eaten by kants. She was hiding in the back of
a cave she crawled into, unaware of the nest.

“Kant’s are small underground colony builders, the equivalent
to ants or termites on Earth I’ve been told. I’ve never been to Earth, but these
are as long as your first finger joint.” He put a thumb at the crease of his index
finger’s top joint.

“They have six legs and are tan instead of the blue or green
of so many of the things here. It takes four or five stings to put you down, unlike
a skeeter sting, but they have mandibles that can cut right through skin and cloth,
and each can sting multiple times. They will swarm over you through the joints in
your armor. Often when we get a kant attack victim back to reuse the armor, the
bones are picked clean in a day, and even the bones themselves are eventually eaten.
Everything but our teeth.”

“The survivors with you that day got immunity even though they
didn’t fight?” Dillon asked.

“Yes, and the immunity granted is supposed to be immediate. The
test ends as soon as a warrior is killed by any of us, so those four ass wipes that
ran and hid never had to face another Testing Day. Not that two of them enjoyed
immunity for long,” he ended ominously.

“Did the Krall find some way around their promise?” Mirikami
asked.

“Oh no, they leave every survivor from a team alone after you
kill a warrior in combat. It’s exactly what they want from us, you know. The immunity
offer is an incentive to fight harder, to kill one of them on a Testing Day. Damnedest
idea you ever heard, but I swear it’s true.” He sounded defensive, not expecting
newcomers to believe him.

“Colonel,” Mirikami reassured him, “we had a week to pump information
from the three translators on our ship while in transit here. We learned the same
thing you have about them wanting us to be more successful when we fight them. In
fact, they hope to use war with entire human race as a method of improving generations
of new warriors.”

“Huh? What do you mean the entire human race? They only test
people here I was told.” He was clearly shocked.

“They test us here, yes,” the Captain agreed, “but did you wonder
what they were testing us for? They intend to invade our worlds slowly, to select
the best warriors on a much grander scale. They allow only the most successful fighters
to breed for the next generation. They call this the Great Path, and have done this
for twenty five thousand years with other races. Before we even came out of our
caves on Earth.