Jerry Davis - A Long Curved Blade
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A Long Curved Blade
A LONG CURVED BLADE
© 1994 by Jerry J. Davis
Previously Published in Leopards Realm Magazine
Laying in his two-person bunk with a pillow over his head, Douglass could still hear the
sounds of lovemaking drifting through the frictionless air ducts. These air ducts were perfect
for carrying sound, and thanks to them nothing that went on in the capsule was private. The
woman who was moaning was his wife. The man --- well, that was no secret. It was
Cromwell, the weatherman.
Doug listened, feeling sick and hopeless --- then another sound caught his attention. A
distant warbling cry, a chorus of voices. Then a woman's voice was sobbing over the
communications system. Her voice rang through the metal of the capsule. "It was a skike,
another damn skike," she was saying. "It killed a boy." Doug rolled off his bunk and wriggled
into his jungle gear, stepped into his boots, and grabbed his rifle. He pushed through his door
and hurried out into the circular hall, heading for the front door.
Leo Calderon, the expedition leader, was sealing off the capsule as Doug came trotting up.
He looked at the dirty jungle clothes and the gun in Doug's hand and said, "No, you're not
going out there."
"Who else is out? Selene is out there!"
"Selene and Lipton are safe in the village. There's no need for you going out."
"It killed a child."
"I don't care----"
"Goddamn it, it killed a little kid!" Doug shoved past the older man and pulled the quick
release lever. The doors slammed open and he leapt out into the dirt and leaves, the million
insects.
"Douglass, come back here!"
Doug trotted down the path, flipping his rifle on and glancing at its scanner.
"Douglass! That's an order!" Leo was shouting. "You come back here now!" His voice
grew distant, then faded out altogether. Doug didn't notice, he just kept running. The village
was right ahead, he could see it through spiral leaves and odd horizontal limbs. There was a
wooden gate with an elaborate mechanical latch --- every piece meticulously carved from
wood --- he let himself in and ran toward Lipton, who was holding a rifle but was so pressed
by the colonists that he could only point it straight up.
"Where's your wife?" Doug yelled.
"Over there by the body," Lipton yelled back. "She saw it happen, the boy was protecting
her."
Doug pushed his way through another crowd and found Selene on the ground hugging her
knees and crying. In front of her was the gory mess that had been a colonist boy, about 11
standard years old. Doug recognized him, he remembered giving the child a candy bar, and
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was then chewed out by Cromwell, Leo, and his own wife for "introducing alien food into
their diet" and "interfering" with their studies.
"The attack was here?" Doug asked. "Inside?"
Several of the colonists nodded. One, who was called Jahk, pointed to planetary west and
said, "Th'skike it dug right through th'floor fence 'n right there."
"Show me."
He trotted with several men to the hole where the skike had entered and then exited after
the kill. The colonists had covered the ground of their village with a tight crisscrossing of
wood everywhere inside the fence, and the skike had dug up underneath and broke its way
through. It was a big one, bigger than the one that usually haunted this area. Doug set his rifle
to scan the tunnel, and followed its path to the edge of the fence and beyond. "It's a short
tunnel," he told Jahk. "It ends right out there."
"Th'other end we'll go 'n we'll wait there," Jahk said. He was armed with a beautifully
crafted crossbow with deadly obsidian-tipped arrows. Doug followed him and the other
colonists through a gate and out to the hole, where they stood with weapons pointing.
Doug was fiddling with the knobs on his scanner. "It's not in there," he said. He took a few
steps to the edge of the jungle, scanning. "Out there," he said, his voice hushed. "About thirty
meters."
"You c'n see it?" Jahk asked him.
"My machine can. It's out there, not moving."
"It listens s'nd smells us," Jahk said. "Th'skike is safen 'n 'n 'n th'jungle."
"It thinks it's safe." Rifle forward, Doug pushed his way into the foliage. "I'm going to kill
the thing. This time I am going to kill it." He ducked his head under a branch, moving
forward, the tart scent of sap burning his nostrils. The colonists were right behind him,
following close.
The beast heard them coming and retreated. Doug watched it with the scanner, creeping
forward, breathing shallow. This was the skike's environment, the skike's territory. Even with
his energy weapon and his motion scanner Doug knew he was at a disadvantage here. This
beast weighed at least one standard ton, a multi-legged, twelve-eyed creature with a large
brain and quick reflexes. The colonist's name for the creature was a perversion of the English
word "scythe" --- two of its forelegs were scythe-shaped blades a good 1.2 meters long,
double edged and razor sharp.
Doug reached a clearing and stopped. The colonists behind him stopped and spread out,
weapons drawn and ready. The beast was a mere 20 meters ahead, invisible in the foliage.
Doug braced himself against a frame tree to keep his aim steady, peering through the screen
at the curtain of leaves and branches in front of them. The skike was there, just beyond. The
bolt from the energy weapon could burn right through to it, but if Doug didn't hit its brain it
would be a wasted shot. As he watched, it began to circle to the right, trying to get behind
them. He could hear it in the warm, heavy air; the rustling of leaves, twigs snapping. The
scanner showed it as a vague blob on the screen, growing sharper.
Doug realized why it was circling. It wanted to cut them off from the village. "Back," he
said between his teeth, "back off!" They moved back the way they'd come, and all the while
Doug was aware that the thing could leap through the hanging foliage and slice him to pieces
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without him firing a shot. The colonists, spooked, turned and ran.
Hearing them, the skike moved faster.
Doug was walking backwards, his gun pointing toward the beast. If the damn thing would
step into a clearing, he thought, that would be the end. I'll murder it. Instead, the foliage grew
thicker. Doug could only see a few meters before broad spiral leaves obscured his vision.
Damn it, he thought, this is not good.
He sidestepped to the left, circling around. The skike was 15 meters away now, passing
him. It can leap this far, he thought. And just as he was thinking that, he stepped on a dry
fallen limb and it snapped. Not too loud of a snap, but just enough. The skike stopped,
listening. Doug scrambled backwards, panicking. He stumbled into a clearing and turned and
ran. He could hear the skike moving behind him. It was coming fast, he could hear the
crashing and scraping as it moved recklessly through the underbrush.
Doug turned and dropped, raising his rifle. He could see it, it was light brown like the
color of the tree trunks, looking like a bundle of thick branches moving, raising and lowering,
and two shiny black blades raised on thick, strong arms, raised to strike. Doug fired the rifle,
blasting off one of the thing's legs. The skike went rolling and scrambling around the
clearing, slashing at the air. In his panic Doug fired two more times, missing the creature
entirely, and when the creature stopped and Doug could get a bead on the mass of black eyes,
he pulled the trigger and the gun did nothing. A red light came on, telling him to wait fifteen
seconds for the capacitors to recharge.
The beast raised its blades and came toward him.
Doug let out a cry and turned and ran.
He heard crashing behind him, the sound of the beast pursuing, but it fell behind. The
wound was slowing it down. There was a beep as the rifle was ready to fire again, and Doug
slid to a stop and turned around, rifle raised. The skike was nowhere in sight. The scanner had
it 40 meters away and fading as it retreated into the deep jungle. Doug considered following
it, but his nerves were shot. He couldn't bring himself to do it.
Feeling bitter, he turned and made his way back to the village.
#
It was only when Douglass arrived back at the capsule did he realize how much trouble he
was in. Leo Calderon, biologist, anthropologist, was also the expedition commander. He was
general, king, judge and jury, and god as far as the expedition was concerned. Douglass had
disobeyed a direct order in leaving the capsule after Leo had sealed it off.
Doug's wife, Janet, was standing beside Cromwell Flack as Leo ranted and raved and
stripped Doug of all rank and privilege. During the tirade Doug stood silently and stared into
his wife's eyes. She was a stranger, now. Janet Nerro, with a PhD in Human Sciences, was
willing to do anything to win a place on this Technica expedition, even willing to convince a
lowly technician, a repairman, into thinking she was in love with him. Lowly as he was,
Technica considered Douglass the best qualified "engineer" for the expedition and preferred
that he be married to maintain the stability of the team. Any woman scientist being
considered for the expedition would surely lock her place in on the team by marrying him.
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Cromwell Flack, the eminent climate expert, was above all this --- he was allowed to join the
team without bringing a wife, which upset the balance. Seven team members instead of eight,
and four of them men. Out of all of them, Douglass was the only one who was not a scientist.
He was only along to keep everything running for the duration.
Six more years, Douglass thought. Six.
". . . you are not to interact with the colonists," Leo was raging at him, "you are not to
speak with them, you are not to look at them! Do you understand?"
"Yes sir."
"You are not to go into their village, you are not to go into the jungle. Until further notice,
you are confined to the capsule. And you no longer have any access to Technica weapons!"
"Yes sir."
"Have I made myself clear?"
"Yes sir."
"Do you have any questions?"
"No sir." Actually, he had a lot of them, but didn't have energy to bring them up.
"You're dismissed, Mr. Dunhill. Go to your cabin."
Doug nodded, but he was still staring into his wife's eyes. She had no expression at all, she
simply stared back. He turned and walked stiffly out of the commons, out into the circular
hall. He passed the thin metal door to his cabin and went instead to Cromwell's, letting
himself in and closing the door behind himself. He sat silently on the bed and waited.
Cromwell and Janet didn't show up right away, so Doug took the opportunity to use
Cromwell's data terminal. Cromwell was going to be furious to find him in here, but Doug
couldn't imagine himself being in more trouble than he was already in. Using the terminal's
screen, he brought up a summery of the expedition.
TECHNICA MISSION #2786-855
FAILURE OF COLONY AT DROXFORD 2
Cromwell and Janet entered the cabin as Doug was reading through the already familiar
text. Cromwell merely made a disgusted face at finding him in the room. "Douglass," he said,
"get out."
"I want to read you something."
"Get out."
"Just listen to me. Please."
Cromwell sighed and crossed his arms. Janet stood looking uncomfortable. She stared into
his eyes, though. Either she was totally without shame, or Doug had married a cyborg. He
was beginning to wonder.
"The duration of the mission is seven years," Doug said, reading from the data. "The
object of study: Native adaptation of the descendants of failed colony sent off
three-hundred-seven years before. Expedition goal: To determine why the original colony
failed, and find a solution to the problem. Prepare a preliminary report for Technica
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recolonization effort." Doug turned the terminal off. "We've been here for eleven months,
right? So what have we found?"
"I'm not going to waste my time discussing it with you."
"I'm not talking to you, I'm talking to her. She's my wife, I have a right to talk to her, don't
I?"
"This is childish, there is no point to it," Cromwell said.
Doug shrugged. "Janet, please, talk to me."
"Obviously," Janet said, "we've only been here eleven months, our findings are
inconclusive."
"Inconclusive? We're to determine why the original colony failed, and find a solution to
the problem. Well, we know why the colony failed! The skikes have been killing them off for
over three-hundred years! And it's obvious how to solve the problem . . . we move the colony
to an area where there are no skikes."
"We are not going to move the colonists. I'm not going over this with you again."
"The longer you wait, the more of them are going to be killed!"
"Doug, listen to me. You're not a scientist. You think you know, but you don't know all
the facts. You're jumping to a conclusion! All evidence must be considered. The colonists
must be studied and their social structure mapped out. Their customs and their evolutionary
adaptations must be analyzed. To do that, they must remain as they----"
"They have to be killed off one by one so you can determine exactly why they're dying?"
"This has gone far enough," Cromwell said. "Out of here, now."
"Cromwell, stuff yourself."
"Alright, I'm going to go get Leo." Cromwell stormed out of the room.
"Doug," Janet said, "maybe you are right. Maybe. But you go and move them, and we start
fresh somewhere else --- it may happen all over again with another ten-thousand colonists
because we jumped the gun and we didn't find the truth."
"There is a perfectly habitable island system a thousand klicks from here with no skike
population whatsoever," Doug said. "They'd have all they need, and no----"
Leo burst into the room. "Douglass!" he yelled.
"They'd have no need to fear!" Douglass said to his wife.
Leo and Cromwell grabbed Doug by the arms and half-dragged half-carried him to his
cabin, tossed him in, and locked the door from the outside.
#
For the next three and a half weeks Douglass was incarcerated in his cabin. He was
allowed to go from the cabin to the bathroom, but that was it. When he was pulled out to fix
something, he was to fix it and then return to the cabin. Lipton and his wife Selene would
spend a few hours a day with him, and his wife would occasionally visit. Janet would tell him
the situation was unfortunate, and assure him it would end soon as long as he continued to
cooperate. Lipton and his wife openly detested Doug's treatment and would daily make
protests to Leo for it to end. Leo remained stubborn because he wanted his word to be law,
and because he thought Doug should be taught a lesson.
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One night in the middle of the third week a large delegation of colonists carrying torches
came from the village. Doug watched from his view port, wondering what it was all about.
All the scientists were out to meet them, and after a few minutes Lipton opened Doug's cabin
door and stood smiling at him. "You're out, my friend," he said. "You're free."
"Oh, what, Leo wants me to fix something? That's great. Tell Leo that he can take
whatever broken thing it is and stick it up his butt, because I'm on strike."
"No, the colonists have come for you. They've made you part of their tribe."
"What?"
"After that day you went chasing that skike into the jungle, they decided you were a
member of their tribe. Selene and I kinda leaked the news that you were being locked up out
here, and they've come to get you."
Doug grabbed his jungle gear and followed Lipton outside. The leader of the colonists,
Kinjon, was prominent among the delegation; two warrior women stood one to either side of
him holding flaming torches. He held out his arms and embraced Doug, and called him
brother. "Y'r th'bravest g'damn man of r'people," he said, with some significance. "C'm on
w'us."
Doug shrugged, and wordlessly followed.
The delegation returned to the village, where two huge bon fires lit the area in orange,
flickering light. Naked men and women did a thrusting, gyrating dance to high, warbling flute
music. The scientists followed, everyone but Cromwell using one instrument or another to
record the event. To Doug, the whole thing smacked of a fertility right.
They sat in a circle around the two bonfires and watched the dancers flirting with the
flames. It was nerve-racking for Doug to watch, he was sure someone's hair was going to
catch on fire --- or worse. The heat was making him sweat. He felt like he was being
barbecued.
Someone knelt down beside him. It was Jahk, one of the warriors who'd followed him out
after the skike. "Y'r new w'us, I got'ta 'splain things t'you."
"Okay."
"Th'girl straight 'cross fr'm you is Shrew. She's c'm t'age, 'n this's her's. You been chosen,
you'n her first. Your s'posed t'go b'tween th'fires 'n claim'n her."On the other side of the
circle, obscured by the shimmering of hot air, was a very young girl dressed in a loose gown
of woven web straw. It had an almost silver look to it.
"Jahk, run that by me again. I don't think I understand."
"Run past you?"
"What?"
"Y'want me t'run past you?"
"No. I want you to tell me what this is all about. I don't understand."
"Shrew's c'm t'age she's s'posed t'get preggers. Th'people need y'r children 'cause y'r
smart'n brave."
Selene must have seen the look of panic in his eyes. She knelt down on the other side of
him and said into his ear, "This is their version of a 'coming out' party, Doug. You're not
marrying her."
"She's so young!"
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