Koban: Rise of the Kobani (32 page)

Weapons had been a serious issue, hotly debated for hours before leaving Koban. The final decision was that the person who would first greet the Prada would carry only a concealed small Jazzer in a shoulder holster, and a knife. It was noted that every Prada appeared to carry a short knife on their belts, so seeing one on a human would seem reasonable. Besides, this was an untamed world, and going completely unarmed would be reckless. The other five members of the contact team would stay far back, inside or next to the shuttle, with pistols on their hips, and a fifty-caliber, bolt-action sniper rifle in the hands of Bradley, a dead shot at long range, with or without using the telescopic sight.

The decision of who would make the actual approach had vacillated. Francis had discovered the tree village, Marlyn was in charge of the expedition, and Sarah had a wider range of alien language skills. However, it was finally decided that the least threatening looking member of the group, and senior in experience, was a better choice.

Maggi was the only one on the expedition that was the same approximate height and weight as an adult Prada, and had proven negotiating skills. She would make the first contact. It was naturally assumed there would be no need to knock a stubborn Prada in the head or groin, another skill set she was known to have.

They ate a hurried early lunch, and climbed into the shuttle, to the envious looks of many of the complement, who wished they could be an eyewitness to the historic event. However, the team would be recording live from several viewpoints, and Maggi had a variation of a spy bot camera and audio pickup on a fastener of her loose jacket. They were all keeping their Krall style tattoos concealed for now, until they could explain them.

Marlyn, eager but nervous, said, “Let’s go meet the neighbors.”

Mel Rigson was the titular leader of the small Jura expedition, but claiming leadership over two “wild hare”, young TG2s, was a stretch. Cory and Danner, Dillon and Thad’s youngest boys were as adventurous and mischievous as their older
brothers were, although they promised to display caution on Jura, a dangerous and largely unexplored continent.

When Rigson actually called them wild hares, the generational gap proved five hundred years wider than Rigson or the boys knew. When they asked Mel what the phrase meant, he repeated what he’d heard Maggi explain when she had used the same term for them.

“It’s supposed to be a small animal that jumps and runs around totally out of control. Your Aunt Maggi said the description was based on an old fictional character called Bugs Bunny. From a long time ago.”

Cory said, “You sure she didn’t mean wild like a hair growing crooked in your nose?”

“My nose?”

“Not just yours Uncle Mel, anybody’s.”

“How would a nose hair jump around?” he asked.

Danner had a counter question. “How does what
you
said jump around? What
is
a hare anyway?” He had a trace of a smile.

“A jumping hare, I guess you mean.”

“You just said a hair can’t jump,” Cory protested, with a sly grin.

Realizing they were pulling his leg again, Rigson told them, “Listen, you aggravating fleas on a moosetodon’s butt, you know what that expression means concerning you two, even if we never saw or heard of a hare. The animal came from Earth, a place I never lived, and saw only once. I assume an untamed hare was likely half as much trouble as either one of you.”

Both boys had undergone all of the remaining Koban gene mods, on nearly the same day the second one of them reached age sixteen. Aunt Aldry, Uncle Rafe, and Aunt Maggi had already certified each one of the mods as safe and functional gene changes. They strongly approved and recommended the new nanite process itself.

On the surface, it sounded like many youngsters in Prime City had common blood relatives. It would seem odd for folks to have so many relatives that just happened to find themselves randomly stranded on an alien planet together. Here, most adults that were involved in a kid’s life became “Uncles” and “Aunts,” replacing the lost biological family ties.

The laws in Prime City gave youngsters the right to decide for themselves about gene changes after their sixteenth birthday, and these two boys were only days apart in age. Danner’s mom, Marlyn, was now back at least part of the time, between trips to explore the neighboring planet, and had belatedly approved the
fait accompli Danner had presented to her
.

Cory would have to “face the music” with his own mother when she returned, if she objected to his not waiting. He would still have done it anyway, but she could at least have had her say first. Neither boy anticipated opposition or grief from their dads.

Besides, having the gene mods were the only way they could be included on the trip to explore parts of Jura. None of the adults on the expedition would let them go otherwise. So now, they were in a temporary camp on the coast of Jura, prepared to follow a small river upstream into the interior, towards a gray volcanic dotted mountain range.

Multiple long shuttle trips had brought four transports over in slings; two of them were halftracks, the other two, sturdy and standard Krall four-wheel models, plus stacks of equipment and supplies to pack into their rear beds. There were Smart Fabric tarps to protect things from weather, Koban birds, and small scavengers. With only eight people making the trip, the truck cabs, which were roomy enough for three Krall per bench seat, were spacious enough for one ripper to join them per cab. They found four of them eager to go.

The expedition members would ride in one vehicle for a day, and then would swap trucks to share the driving and other duties, discussing observations and their experiences. This was more a journey of discovery than of science.

Rigson and Cory would ride together the first day, sharing the truck with Kayla, the ripper that grew up with Danner’s brother, Bradley. With Bradley serving on the Beagle, she had wanted an adventure of her own.

Cal Branson and Danner would ride with Kally, Danner’s lifetime ripper companion.

Chack Nauguza and Ricco Balduchi had Kopper with them, the only male ripper on the journey, and Jimbo Skaleski was riding with Neri Bar and Kandy. Neri was the sole (human) woman on the trip.

To round out the mixture, two unmated wolfbat males had agreed to come as aerial scouts, in exchange for the exotic dinosaur meat to sample, and any hunting they wanted to try. They had learned via Mind Taps that there were wolfbat squadrons on Jura, and if there were unattached and receptive females, they might stay behind when the expedition ended.

Swapping to a new Flock was common with wolfbat males on Cenozo continent, to maintain genetic diversity. It was assumed it would be the same on Jura, and there
had
been
rare population exchanges in the past from Jura, usually a result of storm blown refugees.

They had broken camp this morning at daylight, after the early-to-bed turn in they gave themselves the night before. That was after they had finished unloading, sorting, and repacking the last of the supplies from the final shuttle delivery. That shuttle left them a few hours before sunset, and except for the two radios they had with them, they were now on their own in a land predominately filled with small to enormous dinosaur analogues.

Cody tossed the wolfbats a light meat snack for breakfast, Tapped them to give them basic instructions, and sent them aloft to check the surroundings and then to fly a few miles ahead on this side of the river. Rigson had already found prints with four blunt toes, from recent four-legged visitors to the riverbank, probably there for water.

The prints resembled pictures they brought with them of a
Ceratopsian herd’s tracks. Those had been recorded from a previous exploration on Jura, which was interrupted by the Krall visitation that gained them their first clanship. These particular animals appeared to be smaller versions of the frilled and three-horned versions seen before, but there were quite a few of them. The normally docile grass eaters were of little threat if you kept your distance on foot, and would normally run from a truck. Rigson’s concern today was the possibility that some of the predators that often shadowed such herds could be nearby, looking for a meal of opportunity. The wolfbat’s sharp eyes would find them, even if they didn’t know what they all looked like. Predators were usually not hard to identify.

All eight men had fifty caliber rifles, and two were the precious semiautomatic versions, the rest were single shot bolt action with ten shot magazines. They also had a thirty caliber automatic rifle with a thirty round banana curve magazine. They each packed two of the Krall made pistols because they had so much of that ammunition, and there were extended magazines for that caseless ammunition. In boxes lashed under the seats were fragmentation and phosphorus grenades, carefully placed in covered and padded comfort.

Paleontologists had never completely proven the speed and high level of activity of many of Earth’s dinosaur species from the fossils and footprints they left. There wasn’t a debate on Koban. The organic superconducting nerves in forerunners of all vertebrate life on this world, once the trait had evolved on the heavy, metal-rich planet, remained a competitive survival necessity in their descendants.

Even most dino “cows” here could outrun Earth’s fastest human runners that had ever graced a nice flat, sure grip surface of a manmade track. They could beat those track times over clumpy uneven ground, bulldozing through waist-high, thick bushes. The predators were even faster.

A TG2 could outrun some herbivores on Jura, or at home on Cenozo in a mile sprint, but not much farther than that. However, by pacing themselves, a well-conditioned Kobani could eventually run many herd animals into exhaustion over the long haul. For a predator, it was find cover or dodge, and shoot as you moved if they were close. You were not going to outrun any of them over short distances.

For SGs, advance warnings, knowing where they were, and being heavily armed was usually enough to stay safe. An unwarned TG2 could likely hear, and smell them before they saw them charging, and if they got close they still could plink out their eyes with well-aimed pistol shots and duck away. A heavy rifle meant they could put a slug through the small brainpan at a half mile while both they and the target were moving. Cory and Danner were the expedition’s main line of close-in defense if the wolfbats and rippers were unable to give them advanced warning.

When the power from the fusion bottles was fed to the motors, the four trucks eased into motion. They were going to hold a steady ten miles per hour until the wolfbats reported to them. If the way ahead were clear of threats, they would increase speed as long as the ground stayed relatively even and rock free. They might even come onto a game trail that would be beaten down enough to let them make twenty to twenty-five miles per hour, in a semblance of comfort for the older men, without TG reaction speed and strength.

Cory, Danner, and the cats would think a bouncy ride at high speed would be great fun until they had to return to recover the supplies and damaged equipment that flew out.

****

Flight Leader, the senior and larger of the flyers was relishing the scents and strange sounds in this place. The trees were different, and the insects had a different sound to their buzz. He had seen several of the stinging, blood-drinking little fliers. Here, they were not quite as small as the one’s at home. The food giver had not asked to be told of these smaller predators, so there would be no large reward for turning back to show him what he saw. He and his squad mate would seek some of the mind images of possible dangerous predators they had been shown. The most dangerous kind was tall and walked on two legs, with tiny arms and large mouths with long teeth.

There were many large slow grass and leaf eaters ahead, and they would not deserve a food reward either. They
could
be dangerous it seemed to Flight Leader, because they had two long curvy horns pointing forward from over their eyes. If the grass eaters ran into a food giver, those horns could kill them. Two of the food givers, as they usually thought of the two- legged helpers of the Flocks, were of the kind that were not only faster and stronger than they looked, but could see, smell, and hear better than others of their kind.

The other six givers would offer food, but they did not have the way to “talk” with pictures, nor the speed of moving. The flyers would accept food from them, and try to pay for it with low calls their broken ears could hear if a flyer saw a threat that would earn a larger food reward.

Flight Leader sent out a general call to see if there would be a reply from a Flock member from this place. The lack of forested nesting sites or hillside caves, made finding squadrons of flyers hunting near this location unlikely. There had been small animals seen that might be good to hunt, with only two flyers to attack them, but until their ability to fight back was known, it was best to eat what they were given in payment.

A recognition and warning call from his squad mate grabbed Flight Leader’s attention. Some sort of predator had been sighted, but the classification was unsure. As he joined the other half of his tiny Flock, he saw immediately the cause of confusion.

The smoothly looping creature with four legs was chasing a group of ten or fifteen reptilian looking animals. The prey ran on two legs, and they were only about twice the size of a wolfbat. Except for their small size, they resembled the predators the food givers sought. However, they did not act like predators, and clustered like a herd. They ran from the larger animal in pursuit.

There was a similarity to the rippers in the obvious predator, even though it was colored differently, and was half the size of a ripper. Envious of his companion’s early success, he squeaked the call to send him back to report this activity. He would receive a food reward, sized by the food giver based on the value of the sighting. They were not looking for this particular predator, so the value was yet unknown.

As his companion turned back, Flight Leader realized that he now was also a Squad Leader of one, himself. He persisted in thinking of the two of them as a Flock, and of himself as a Flight Leader (not Flock Leader because he had not been elected), with only one squadron, consisting of one member.

The thought passed through his mind that his companion probably considered himself as a Squad Leader of one. It would have been easier on their sense of identity if more of their Flock had been free to make the journey. However, that would have indicated an unhealthy condition in a Flock with so many unmated pairs free to leave. Had there been unmated females available, it’s not likely he would be here.

Suddenly, before the ambush was sprung below, Flight Leader saw the second predator waiting for the prey group to draw closer. This was a strategy similar to that rippers used, to hunt at home. However, they would have more members of their pride to chase, and more to wait in ambush. The first several prey animals went by the waiting killer without a muscle moved. Then, one was marginally closer, and it leaped out of the tall clump of grasses where it had hidden, and made a clawed swipe at the closest leg of the smaller prey as it tried to turn aside. The claws raked the thick part of the muscled leg, tearing flesh, and the two- legged runner almost made a fatal stumble. It was forced to turn sharply away and bring the wounded limb around to make a wobbly leap at right angles, away from this new threat.