Mirabile (11 page)

She was taking samples just as furiously as I was.

Moustafa’s estimate had been in the hundreds, by which he’d meant maybe two hundred. I’d have guessed more. I counted nearly a hundred within the ring of light my flashlight produced.

The flashlight bothered them not at all. They placidly munched at this, that, and the other. About as peaceful as a herd of cows and about as bright: one of the youngsters nibbled my tarp before I tapped its nose. Then it hopped back into mama’s pouch and glared at me. Mama went on chewing, while I

got samples of both.

In the cool of the evening, they were much more active. The youngsters chased and kicked each other and a lot of mock battles went down, reminding me of nothing so much as the way Susan and Mike behaved.

More than one of the youngsters had striped hips, so I crept as close as I dared while they were occupied with each other, to get samples specifically from them.

Once again, a mock battle— great leaps in the air and powerful kicks from those hind legs—covered my movement.

Three older kangaroos paused to look up from their eating, but they looked up at the antics of the youngsters with the same kind of wearied eye I had been known to turn on activities of that sort from our younger contingent. Satisfied that the kids weren’t getting into any trouble, they went back to what they’d been doing, which was grubbing in the ground, presumably for roots.

You wouldn’t believe those claws unless you saw them in action. Once again, I appreciated the muscular shoulders. I frankly didn’t see why a kangaroo rex should seem any more ferocious—at first glance, anyhow—then a basic kangaroo.

Watching them, I got a tickle in the back of my skull. The stuff they were grubbing up looked familiar. Nova light is romantic, but not as good for some things as for others. I debated the wisdom of turning my flashlight on them for a better look.

Being old hands, they would not be so likely to take my intrusion as lightly as the joey had. I didn’t want to start a stampede. There were just too many of them in the general neighborhood.

I didn’t relish the thought of being run down by several hundred pounds of panicked roo.

The elder roos looked up, suddenly wary. I abandoned my plan and followed their point. Some sort of disturbance at the edge of the mob, very near where I’d last seen Susan. And damned if I could see her now. There were too many adult roos between my position and hers.

The nearby roos got a bit skittish. Two of the adult males bounced once in Susan’s direction, froze, and watched. A new mob had joined the browsing.

This was a smaller group. Dominant male, two females, and two matching joeys.

Damned if the male didn’t have that striped rump. I didn’t dare edge closer, not with the nearby roos nervous already. I held my ground and hoped the quintet of likelies would pass near enough to Susan for her to get a safe shot at sampling them.

But they skirted Susan (now that my brain was working again, I decided I was glad they had) and headed in my direction. Closer examination told me that poppa was a roo. Neither of the mamas was, though. To hell with the striped rump—these two were plain and simple kangaroo rexes—and most of the nearby roos didn’t like it any more than I did.

Their movements were different. (Well, let’s face it—they would be.) Except for the male, they weren’t grazing. They were searching the grass for whatever small prey the rest of the roos startled into motion. I could see why they liked to hang around with the browsers. The browsing roos gave them cover and, as often as not, sent gladrats and grubroots right into those waiting jaws.

I couldn’t recall when I’d ever heard anything eaten with a snap quite that impressive, either. I eased back down in the grass, hoping they’d get close enough that I could get shots at both the mothers and the joeys. I laid my rifle where I could reach it at a moment’s notice and raised my sampler.

To my surprise, the roos around me, after whiffing the air a few times, settled back to their browsing. When the rexes came close, the roos eased away, but didn’t panic. Not quite acceptable in public society, I could see, but nothing to worry about so long as they kept to their own table.

One of the rex joeys pounced after something small in the grass. In the excitement of the chase, it headed straight for me. I popped it with the sampler on the spot, and it jumped straight up in the air, came down bouncing the opposite direction, and headed for mama. It made a coughing bark, the like of which I never heard from a roo.

Mama made the same coughing sound, bounded over the joey, and the next thing I knew I was face to face with several hundred pounds of angry rex. The jaws snapped as I brought up my gun. Then something hit me in the shoulder with the force of a freight train. The gun went in one direction, I went in the other, rolling as best I could to keep from being kicked a second time by the papa roo.

A brilliant flash of light struck in our direction, illuminating the mama rex as she came after me.

There was a yell and a shot from somewhere behind me. I may have imagined it, but I swear I felt that bullet pass inches from my right ear.

The mama rex stopped in her tracks—stunned, not shot. The rest of the mobs, roos and rexes alike, took off in all directions. The ground shook from their thundering kickoffs and landings.

I scrambled to my feet, the better to dodge if dodging was possible in that chaos.

It was only then that I realized that some damn fool of a human had the kangaroo rex by the tail, hauling it back as it tried to bound away.

A second damn fool of a human grabbed for the rex’s feet, dragging them out from under it so it couldn’t kick.

Dammit! They’d forgotten the teeth!

I was moving before I even put a thought to it. Dived, landed roughly on the rex’s head, and grabbed it about the throat, pulling the jaw closed toward my chest and hanging on for dear life
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while the thing struggled for all it was worth. It had the worst damn breath of any creature I’d ever gotten that foolishly close to.

Through the haze and the brilliance of the artificial light, I saw somebody race up and plunge a hypodermic needle into the upturned haunch. The rex coughed its outrage and struggled twice as hard. I almost suffocated. I don’t even want to think how close its snap came to my ear.

Somebody else was trying to loop a rope around those thrashing hind legs and not being very successful about it. I’d have let go, if I could have thought of a safe way of doing it.

Then all at once the struggle went out of the rex. It kicked weakly a few more times, then went limp, for all the world as if it was too hot a day to do anything but lie around in the shade.

The fellow with the rope said, “Took long enough!” and finished his tying—as neat as any cowboy on ships’ film. He whipped another length of rope off his hip, came round to me, and wrapped the length about the jaw, sealing it temporarily shut.

Then he stood up, dusted off his hands, and said, “Kelly, you’re gonna have to come up with a better mousetrap. Damned if I’m gonna do that again!”

Sangster uncrimped herself from the rex’s tail and stood to face him. “Thought the Texan Guild would be a damn sight better at hog-tying.” The challenge in her voice was unmistakable. “I guess the Australian Guild will have to handle the rest alone.”

“Hell,” said the Texan, in that peculiar drawl that identifies members of the guild, “just give us a chance to practice. These things move a sight different than a fence post.”

“You’re on,” said Sangster. “Now let’s get this into the cage before the valium wears off.” She turned to me and said, “We’ll catch the rest of them for you.”

Four of them hefted the limp rex onto their shoulders and started back toward town.

None of it was making sense, least of all Sangster’s parting shot. Maybe that roo’s kick had caught me in the side of the head after all and I just didn’t know it. I felt like walking wounded.

Must have been stunned, because it wasn’t until Leo and Susan picked up my gun and my cell sampler and caught my elbows on either side that I even remembered to make sure they were okay themselves.

Leo looked about like I felt. Susan was fine, bounding along, half in front of us, half trying to carry me by my elbow, as if she’d caught the bounds from the roos.

“Mama Jason,” she caroled as she bounced, “I’m so glad you’re okay! That was about the most exciting thing that’s ever happened to me, ever

! Wasn’t it, Noisy?

Have you ever seen anything like that in your life

? Just wait until I tell Chris and Elly and Mike…”

None of that seemed to require any response from me, so I saved my breath for walking.

“

Are we going to catch the rest of them?” she demanded at last. “What about the rex’s joey?

Shouldn’t we find it? Maybe it wasn’t weaned yet.”

From the brief look I’d gotten at the joeys, chances were Susan was right. If the rex they’d shot full of valium lived, we’d still lose the rex joey.

But when we rounded the corner, we found a makeshift cage—a big one, much to my relief—built onto a transport trailer that sat right next to Sangster’s house. In it was the mama rex, still groggy but unmuzzled now, and her joey. At least, I hoped it was hers. It was pretty damned angry, but was expending most of its energy trying to get a response out of mama.

The entire town of Last Edges and then some had turned out to gawk. Sangster lounged against
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the cage like she owned ‘em both. When she saw us coming, she nodded and took a few steps to meet us.

“Earth used to have zoos,” she said, with no preamble. Glancing at the Texan Guilder, she added, “Ramanathan checked out the references for us in ships’ files.”

She folded her arms across her chest and, with an air of pronouncement, finished, “We’ve decided we don’t mind if you keep them in a zoo. We’ll catch the rest of them for you.”

That was not what I’d had in mind at all. Still, I wasn’t going to make any objection as long as it kept Sangster and her crew from shooting them on sight.

“Who’s funding this zoo?” I said, “and who’s going to catch the grubroots and gladrats to feed them?”

Sangster and the Texan exchanged glances. “We’ll talk about it later,” she said.

I’ll just bet, I thought, but didn’t say it. I shrugged and turned to plod back to Janzen’s place. I needed a hot soak to get the kinks out. My shoulder was beginning to stiffen from the bruises I’d gotten. (At least, I hoped it wasn’t worse than bruises.) “Get that joey something to eat,” I said. “They were hunting when you interrupted them. Grubroots will do just fine. That’s what it was after.”

I left. Somebody would see to it—probably Janzen.

Sangster caught up with me at the door to Janzen’s place. “I talked the Australian Guild into cooperating. I can talk them into funding the zoo, too. Marsupials are our jurisdiction. Maybe the rex is an Earth-authentic that got lost with the missing ships’

files.”

“Maybe,” I said, stopping to consider her. Damned strange woman. I was sure from her manner that she was still mad as all hell at me, so none of this made sense.

“More likely an intermediate, ready to chain up to an Earth-authentic.”

“We want them off the sheep range,” she said. “It’s this or kill the roos again. We talked the Texan Guild into helping us. We can get them all for your zoo.”

What could I say? “Until the next batch chains up from the roos.” I shrugged one more time.

Sangster scowled deeper. “I saved this pair for you. I talked them into making a zoo. Now we’re even.”

She practically spat that last at me, then she turned on her heel and stamped away, raising dust with her fury.

Even for what

? I wondered.

Damn strange woman, like I said before.

I woke up stiff all over. Susan was balanced on the edge of my cot, barely able to contain herself.

“What?” I said.

“They caught the other mama rex and her joey last night, Mama Jason. We get to keep them after all.”

“Zoo is not my idea of keeping them, dammit. Just sheer luck they haven’t killed any of them yet, between the valium and beating them into submission.” I tried to get coherent but I’m not ready for mornings, ever. “Read up on zoos—and I don’t mean the cursory reading Sangster and her mates did. Zoos always held the last individuals of the species: they were a death sentence.”

“Oh,” she said. “Mike called. He and Selima are up at Gogol, doing that EC

check you wanted. He’ll have it this evening.”

“Good. I want you to do the same here. I want it this evening, too.”

“Betcha I’m faster than Mike.”

“Better be cleaner, too,” I said, “or faster doesn’t count.”

She grinned at me, bounded off the cot, and was out the door without another word.

Guaranteed her report would be both faster and cleaner than Mike’s—unless I called Mike and issued the same challenge, that is. I dragged myself out of bed.

Breakfast first, to get the mind moving, then to the computer to see what, if anything, was new from the lab.

What was new was a note from Chie-Hoon. “Skipped an emergency meeting of the Australian Guild for this, Annie, so you’d better appreciate it.” Appended were reconstructions of the two critters our rexes were planning to chain up to.

Chie-Hoon had a gift for that: take the gene chart and draw from it a picture of what the resulting animal would look like. There were no Latin names for ’em, which meant Chie-Hoon hadn’t been able to find a gene-read for either in ships’ records.

The first one was just a variant on roo. The second was, well, as weird a thing as I’d ever seen, including the Mirabilan jumping fish. It had the same jaw and jaw span as the rexes, but it was a quadruped. The tail wasn’t as thick (it didn’t need the tail for balance the way the roos did) and the hip stripes continued up to the shoulders, narrowing as they went. Basic predator with camouflage stripes.

The pouch opening aimed toward the tail, instead of toward the head. Took me a moment to figure that out—kept the baby from falling out while the critter chased prey, probably also kept it from getting scratched up on creve-coeur in the same circumstances. What it boiled down to was a marsupial version of a wolf. Probably wouldn’t stack up too well against the mammalian wolf (a species I’m rather partial to), but it was a fine off-the-wall bit of work nonetheless.