Starfire (35 page)

The carnosaur reached up and knocked the rat clear, but its left eye was bloody. At the same time another tormentor had found the right eye. It bit ferociously into the eyelid, hung with its weight supported by its fangs, and scrabbled with taloned paws at the eye itself. It too was brushed away by a forearm, but another bleeding wound was left behind.

Meanwhile, a horde of rats had climbed the legs and converged on the softest part of the belly. They hung there, tearing at the leathery skin and at the area of the hidden genitals.

The carnosaur could not see them or catch them easily with its short forearms. They tore and chewed, opening a three-inch tear in the skin that widened with every bite. In agony, the carnosaur crouched low on its hind legs and shook like a dog emerging from water.

It was less effective than before. The rats were learning. When the shaking began they gave up any attempt to deepen the wound and waited, clinging with fangs and claws. As soon as the shaking stopped they went back to work. Any thrown clear that could still move ran back and began another ascent of the living mountain. Their goal was the soft belly and neck, but they bit as they climbed, stripping off scales and gnawing at the skin beneath.

The carnosaur collapsed, flat onto its back. Most of the rats were quick enough to dash clear, but an unlucky half-dozen were squashed beneath the leathery body and the hard floor.

"Not a great move," Rolfe said softly. "I wouldn't have done that if I were you. Get up, or you've lost."

The rats were much quicker than their opponent. While the minisaur still struggled to roll over so that its powerful tail and legs could lift it upright, the rats attacked again. Thirty of them went for the mouth and belly and genitals. A dozen others took advantage of the change in the carnosaur's position and tackled the head, ripping at the eyelids and at the exposed surface of the eyes themselves.

The carnosaur at last reared upright, but it was damaged. It possessed plenty of energy and defiance, but now it gave up any attempt to eat the rats. It tried only to dislodge them from its body and trample them beneath its powerful feet. Blood and aqueous humor was oozing from the torn eyes. More blood ran freely from a severed vein low on the belly, where the wall of the abdomen had been broached. A gray bulge of intestine was visible. The rats tugged at that with their fangs, pulling it farther, tearing pieces off and swallowing them.

Celine stared in horror. "They're eating it
alive
."

"Yeah. What did you expect them to do? Kill it, cook it, and wait for steak sauce?" Rolfe was edging close, as close as he could without coming within striking range of the carnosaur. The animal had begun a low growl of anguish.

Celine's feelings about the minisaur changed from fear to pity. "Shoot it. You must have some way to kill it quickly." She wished she had brought a gun herself—every one of her security detail carried weapons, she could have borrowed one easily. "You can't let it suffer like that."

"What do you want me to do?" Rolfe was smiling. "Go in and strangle it, the sort of mercy killing you offer to somebody being burned at the stake? You can try that if you want to. I won't. I hate to work with my hands." He held up his blackened fingers.

"Then shoot it. This is horrible."

"I don't keep guns here." He was studying the carnosaur. "Anyway, it won't be long now. The small mammals always beat the dinosaurs."

Eyeless and partly eviscerated, with bleeding wounds all around the neck and mouth, the beast still stood upright, but it was terribly wounded. As Celine watched, a rat wriggled out from a gaping hole in the belly. The rodent was smeared all over with blood and carried an eight-inch length of greasy intestine in its mouth. It dropped to the floor and hurried away.

"Even if you don't have a gun, there must be a way to kill it." Celine stared around, looking for anything that might serve as a knife, a club, a spear.

The floor of the chamber close to the carnosaur was a nightmare of blood and guts and dying rats. She dared not go too near. The blinded beast was sinking forward, unsteady on its legs. The uninjured rats knew. Now that the fight was over they stood at a safe distance, quietly waiting. The animal was still dangerous. The jaws, covered with a froth of saliva, snapped at imaginary enemies. The powerful tail thrashed the floor, flattening any rat too injured to crawl clear. Celine got the message: Pity it, but do not go near it.

Bizarrely, the little cleaning machines were already busy, removing the bodies of dead rats and wiping up blood and slime and fragments of entrails. The machines could be damaged by minisaur jaws, but a swipe of the tail simply knocked them a few yards away. They started right back.

Gordy Rolfe's gray eyes were bright behind the eyeglasses. If he heard Celine's words, they had no effect.

She surveyed the rest of the chamber.
Weapons.
Anything could be a weapon. She hurried across the room to the workbench. Most of the tools were too light or too short. She wanted something heavy and long enough to be used at a distance.

The biggest object on the bench was a huge pair of cutting shears designed to clip sheet metal or bolts. She hefted the tool and decided it was too cumbersome. The second-best was a four-pound steel hammer with a long handle, flat on its main striking face but with a three-inch punch spike sticking out in the other direction.

Celine lifted it. One hand would be possible, but two hands were better. She walked back across the room, swinging the hammer up and over her head to get the balance.

Was she really going to do this, when she had already told herself that it would be total folly to go too near?

Quickly, or not at all. She moved forward. She was now within the carnosaur's reach if the animal lunged to the end of the chain. The head swung in her direction. It could not see her, but could it smell her?

Quickly. One shot was all you got.

She took another step forward. Hammer up, above her head. Down with the spike, into the carnosaur's skull, between and behind the ruined eyes—blood and evil-smelling spittle, spraying her face and hair and clothing—a desperate leap backward, away.

She was barely in time. The carnosaur, from intent or muscular reflex, plunged in her direction. It was halted by the chain.

The head and torso fell backward at the same time as the legs jerked forward. Celine saw taloned, three-toed feet flex just inches away from her belly as the body convulsed and the legs stretched to their full length. For a moment the carnosaur stood balanced on the thick tail, then it slowly collapsed.

As the final death spasm began, the scaled head turned again in Celine's direction. The hammer spike was still embedded there. She saw that in her terror she had hit hard enough to fracture and split the whole skull.

She saw that Gordy Rolfe was looking at her. He was laughing. "Hell of a whack. I wouldn't like you to get mad with me. But you've got a nerve, killing my minirex."

Celine wiped carnosaur gore and spittle from her eyes and lips. "That was monstrous and unnatural. I had to put the poor beast out of its misery."

"It Would have died anyway in a few minutes. As for unnatural, you're completely wrong. What we saw is totally natural. That's how animals die in the wild. Once they get old or sick, something drags them down and eats them."

Gordy Rolfe was loving every minute. Celine knew it from the pleasure in his glittering eyes and the flush of color on his pallid cheeks. Suddenly, all she wanted to do was get away from him and back to the surface.

"You leaving?" Rolfe watched her intently as she turned toward the circular exit hatch.

Celine did not trust herself to speak. She nodded and kept moving.

"Well, I guess the fun's over, anyway." Rolfe reached for the controller at his waist. "One more bit of cleanup to do, then I'll see you on your way."

He pressed a sequence of keys. The room filled with high-pitched squeaks. Celine saw scores of rats, their gray skins sparking and smoking, contort into unnatural shapes and collapse to the floor.

"Can't have them running loose, can we? There's no saying where they'd get to after they'd eaten." Rolfe glanced at Celine. "Don't worry, I only disposed of the ones running free. The ones in the cages are fine. And the dead ones go to the habitat, so they won't be wasted."

He led the way down the spiral staircase. Celine followed, very slowly. She felt weak in the knees. Although she had wiped her face, the reek of carnosaur blood saturated her hair and clothing.

Gordy went with her to the elevators. "Don't forget our deal," he said. "I'll keep my end; a set of rolfes will be on the way to Sky City before the end of the week. By that time I expect to hear what you're doing about my land."

"I'll work on it." Celine forced the words out and pressed the elevator button. She could not wait for the doors to close and the car to ascend. She craved fresh air and sanity. When the slow-rising elevator at last opened on the highest level, she found Chesley Reiter and the rest of his group waiting. One look at her, and the chief of security grabbed her arm.

"It's all right, Ches, I'm fine." She gently freed herself. "None of this is my blood."

"But . . . Madam President?"

He was inviting an explanation. Celine was not ready to give one. She walked past them, through the school-house and on into the open air. It seemed that she had been underground for many hours, and she expected to find it was night outside the building. Instead she walked out into the twilight gloom of an early evening downpour. The thunderstorm had come and gone, leaving in its place a steady rain.

Celine turned her face upward, welcoming the drops. It would be a long time before she felt clean again.

The armored car stood with the door open and the driver waiting. Celine nodded to him and climbed in without a word. Before the door closed she was reaching for the telcom unit to call Nick Lopez. He answered so quickly that she suspected he had been waiting by his own unit.

"Rolfe agreed," Celine said at once. "He'll start shipping more up by the end of the week."

"I can't believe it. How did you talk him into it?"

"I don't think I did. I think he has his own reasons for wanting to send rolfes to Sky City, but I can't begin to guess what they are. Nick, I've never had a meeting like that in my whole life. Gordy Rolfe is crazier than you can imagine."

"I told you he was losing it. What did he do? Start lecturing you on the superiority of small mammals?"

"More than that." Celine glanced around the armored vehicle. The rest of the security staff had piled in and the driver was waiting for instructions. "Back to the White House," she said. And, as the car began to roll forward, "Our friend gave me his idea of a practical demonstration."

"Meaning what? With Gordy, I hardly dare to consider the possibilities."

Celine hesitated. Should she tell Nick, when the security staff would be hanging on her every word? Well, why not. They had waited for hours in the rain, probably imagining that she was down there being lavishly entertained by the powerful head of the Argos Group. They might as well learn the truth.

"Did you know he raises dinosaurs down there?"

"He showed them to me. Dwarf varieties, hidden in the jungle around his habitat control room."

"Not always hidden." Celine described the minirex and its battle to the death with the cageful of rats. She omitted only her own role in delivering the coup de grâce to the carnosaur.

Nick Lopez listened without saying a word. The security staff in the car with Celine were equally silent. The vehicle was racing back toward Washington at its highest speed, and the only sound adding to Celine's voice was the soft hiss of fullerene tires over sodden roadway. Recalling the final moments with the carnosaur, she again became aware of the smell of blood and saliva permeating her hair and clothes.

"We just have to hope that he's sane on other matters," she concluded. "Either the rolfes will appear in a few days for shipping up, or they won't."

"How did he sound when you left?"

"Cheerful. Manic. As though we'd been partying together."

"Then I think this might be a good time for me to call him."

"You might not get through, Nick. He ignored calls when I was there."

"I don't think he'll ignore me. I have a special tie line. One other question before we sign off."

"Ask. But keep it short." Celine was swept by a dreadful wave of fatigue. She wanted to put her head back on the padded car seat and go to sleep.

"What's the rest of the story? I've never heard of Gordy Rolfe making a deal just for money. What else is he asking?"

"The land around the habitat, four miles in every direction, for as long as he's alive and half a century more. His own personal paradise." Celine laid her head back and closed her eyes. She could see the carnosaur, eyeless and half gutted, sinking into its death agony. "But you and I might call it hell."

22

It was a nightmare from Maddy's childhood. You woke slowly, in near-total darkness, knowing that you were not alone in the room. The thing—the shadowy form of the he-she-it—stood still and silent at the end of the bed. You lay frozen, too scared to move, too scared to scream.

At last you went back to sleep. In the morning you looked and looked, but you found no trace of the phantom.

It was happening now, and you were not a child. You were Maddy Wheatstone, a grown woman with no time for adolescent fantasies. You were no longer in the family home in Edmonton. You were—where?

Maddy struggled to full consciousness. Her eyes were wide open. This was not a dream. The shadow was still there. It loomed by her bedside, leaning over her, shaped like a man.

And she was—oh God, she was on Sky City, where the murderer of a dozen girls wandered free.

Maddy gasped, drew up her legs, and threw herself over the other side of the bed. She grabbed a boot, the only solid object she could find, and stabbed at the wall panel.

The light flashed on. It showed John Hyslop, mouth open and eyes squinted half shut against the glare, standing by the side of the bed.