The Legacy of Heorot
Chapter 17

RESCUE

No man quite believes in any other man.
H. L. MENCKEN, Prejudices

    "But what could have happened?" Zack demanded.
    Cadmann guided Skeeter One through the twisting canyon, barely noticing the naked rock walls rising to either side. "Don't know." The west side of the canyon was growing rapidly darker. The smaller sun cast shadows much sharper than he'd been used to on Earth. It made judging distances harder. Cadmann moved the Skeeter toward the brightly-lit eastern wall. It was banded in orange and pale reds. "Don't know. Damn pretty country here." 
    "Yeah, sure--how can you be so calm?"
    "I'm not, but what's the use of getting excited until there's something to do?"
    "Yeah. You're right." Zack took a deep breath. "Those walls are pretty. Like the Australian outback. Ever go there?"
    "No, the U.N. never needed soldiers out there." 
    "It was a rock. Cadmann, it had to be a rock." 
    "A rock that got two boats?" 
    "Why not? And we don't know that Elliot's boat is gone--" 
    "Like hell we don't." Cadmann's mouth was a grim line. "Look, Zack, you can kid yourself about interpretation, but not about what we heard, and the last thing we heard was La Donna screaming. And the last thing we saw?" 
    "You saw. I ran the tape and I didn't see what you saw." 
    "Oh, maybe I didn't see it either. There was something. Something dark in the water near Carlos's raft, something that I swear was moving across the current . . . well, no, I won't swear." Cadmann spoke into his comcard. "Skeeter Two." 
    "Here," Stu Ellington answered.
    "We're coming up to the bend. You go right across the canyon, down to the rapids, and turn back. We'll start the search at the upstream end." 
    "Roger. Goddam, I'm glad you're with us."
    "Me too," Zack said carefully. "I'm still hoping we don't find--"
    "Nobody had to remind you to bring your rifle. And damned if that spare clip doesn't look loaded with incendiaries." 
    Zack grunted. "I'm not going to be stupid about it." 
    Skeeter Two rounded the bend ahead. Cadmann had just made the turn when Stu's voice came through the radio. "I've spotted wreckage downstream, but no sign of--holy shit! Nine o'clock."
    Cadmann's eyes flashed to the left, and for a moment all he saw was the sheer rock face of the gorge. Then he focused, and he saw the creature, perched like a house cat on a bookshelf, only a dozen meters above a stranded Carlos.
    "Straight in. Surprise. Shoot when you have a target," Cadmann ordered. It's not moving. Just sitting there. A little closer--"Zack, make the first shots count. Maybe it will forget about Carlos and head for the river. Stu!" He shouted into the radio. "You check the river! Look for other monsters." 
    "Look for Elliot and La Donna and Bobbi, too," Zack said.
    Cadmann spun the Skeeter to hover twenty meters from the canyon wall. "Now!" he shouted.
    Zack shouldered his rifle and squeezed off a burst. Spent shells whirred out of the rifle breech in a glittering arc.
    The monster twisted, turned toward the Skeeter, then swiveled wildly, searching the river and the cliff above, finally looking back at the Skeeter.
    Cadmann touched a button and spoke into the tiny microphone attached to his helmet. "Carlos! Hang in there, amigo." His amplified voice echoed through the canyon.
    Carlos was trapped, frozen except for one foot which slipped as he fought for a toehold. His hands and arms were stretched painfully taut. His head twisted back to look at them, then he pressed his cheek back into the cliff face again. 
    "What is it doing up there?" Zack demanded.
    It was paying more attention to its sides than to Skeeter One. It licked at the bullet holes.
    Zack fired again, a long burst. The creature recoiled against the rock. Its gaze rested on them for an instant, then its head twitched to the left and the right with the speed of a hummingbird's wings.
    Then with no warning at all it dove off the cliff, ran down the side faster than a rock could fall, hit the ground and sped for the river. Cadmann couldn't pivot the Skeeter fast enough to see it dive between the rocks.
    Skeeter Two was just whizzing back across the river when the creature disappeared with a splash.
    Cadmann spoke through the amplifier. "Okay, amigo, you can come down now." He switched to radio. "Stu. Did you--?"
    "I've got it, Cad. Not a clear view: there's too much disturbance in the water. But it looks like there's a cave mouth down there. I'd say we've got it penned."
    Gotcha! Cadmann crowed silently. "Hover. If it shows up, blow it away."
    "Roger--but Cad--we have the remains of both rafts. And Elliot's dead. We can't find La Donna or Bobbi." 
    The news hit home savagely, dulling the flash of pleasure. 
    "Stay over the cave. We'll look for the ladies." 
    "What about Carlos?"
    "He's moving," Cadmann said. "When he gets to the ledge we'll see if he needs help. Nothing I can do from here right now." He turned back to Zack. "I could set you down where you can wait for Carlos . . ."
    "No." Zack squeezed out each word. "This isn't going to get any easier if we wait."
    Cadmann pulled back on the stick, and the Skeeter peeled away from the wall and headed downriver, looking for what they really didn't want to find.

    Cadmann stood, rifle butt braced against his thigh, watching the water boiling over the rocks. Somewhere beneath the foam was the monster who had killed Elliot and La Donna, and wounded Bobbi. "You're going to die down there," he whispered.
    There was a sudden sound behind him, and Cadmann wheeled instinctively, rifle coming to bear without conscious thought.
    Carlos gave a weak smile, shaking a cigarette out of a plastic pack. "Smoke?" 
    "No, thanks."
    Several different emotions warred on Carlos's face, and he finally lowered the package. "Absurd, isn't it? I mean, to want to give you something. A cigarette . . . a handshake?" 
    Cadmann extended his hand.
    "Thanks, Cadmann. I never understood what you went through until now." His dark face was relaxed, his voice very quiet.
    "You've forgotten your accent."
    Carlos gave a short bark of laughter. "Yeah. Wait around. Bullshit has a way of piling back up."
    He exhaled a long stream of smoke. His hands were shaking badly. "Bobbi will be all right. Won't she? She won't wake up. Why am I asking you?"
    His eyes lost focus, were gazing into the wall of rock on the far side of the gorge. Too well, Cadmann knew what they were seeing.
    Skeeter Two was still hovering over the Miskatonic. "If there isn't another exit from the cave, then we've got the damn thing pinned, is that it?" 
    "That's it." Skeeter Six was humming in, loaded cargo hoist swinging pendulously. Cadmann looked at Carlos critically. "Are you fit?"
    Carlos ground out the half-smoked cigarette. "I'm shaking. I'll be over it. And the best way is to kill that thing. What are your ideas?" 
    "You'll see."
    The cargo hoist beneath the Skeeter was full, and the pilot lowered it. When it was down and released, the Skeeter touched down and Jerry dismounted, a rifle over his shoulder, a bulky square equipment case in his left hand. Skeeter Six took Two's place over the river.
    Jerry clapped Carlos on the back, shook hands with Cadmann. "Camp is in an uproar, not a panic. We're moving." 
    They headed back to the temporary shelter, where Stu and Andy were unpacking equipment. Zack had flown Bobbi back to camp first.
    There was very little said, and not much show of nerves. Just swift, purposeful action. With a grinding hum, another Skeeter bore in men and equipment.
    Cadmann grunted satisfaction to himself. The Colony's response was swift and sensible. Maybe it took tragedy to bring out the survivor in them.
    They walked over to join the man and woman dismounting from the newest Skeeter. Cadmann nodded in greeting. "We've got to move quickly. It's badly wounded now--" 
    "We may be able to capture it," Jerry interjected. "We need to capture it alive if at all possible, Cadmann."
    "All right, Jerry, but don't expect me to take any chances with it. I'm laying the tightest trap I can. If everything goes perfectly, we may be able to take it alive. If one little thing fucks up, we kill it."
    "And if more than a little thing goes wrong . . ." Carlos said grimly.
    Together they walked to the edge of the rocks overlooking the swirling depths of the Miskatonic. They could see little. Cadmann touched his headphone. "Any sign of activity?" 
    "None yet. Flash on the tiniest movement." 
    "That's the way we want it."
    The river bottom was dark, and cold, and somewhere down there was what Cadmann wanted. "You're mine," he whispered.
    "What was that, amigo?"
    "Amigo." Cadmann looked at him in disgust. "I said I knew it was too good to last."