Chapter 1The class F sun burned down on the apparently deserted land. The sand glittered in the sun, seeming almost iridescent in places. At rare, random intervals were plants reminiscent of some of the cactus plants of Earth's deserts. There were also occasional shrubby plants similar to the sage brush or mesquite of Earth. Here and there, a rock outcropping also broke the vastness.Lookout
It was in the shade of a hollow in one such rock that Tomar rested. Two days' march behind him lay the remains of his ship. At least another full day's march ahead of him the mountains made the horizon ragged. Tomar could think of at least a hundred places that he would rather be right off the top of his head. None of them included being stranded on an uncharted planet.
Tomar was a scout ship pilot, had been for five years now, and he liked to think that he was a good one. In his five years of flitting between the stars, he had found three first rate planets and four others that might eventually be made habitable by humans. A first rate planet, officially classified as class A, was one that was uninhabited and that man could move onto immediately and would require almost no terraforming to be habitable. The other four planets that he had found were officially classified as class B, meaning that they could be turned into usable planets with the proper terraforming. One of them was already being terraformed by a mining consortium that wanted the minerals that were so plentiful on that planet.
Three years ago, humanity had made contact with another race that was also expanding through space. Man had extended the hand of friendship to the others and had had it chopped off. All overtures of peace had been met with violence and hatred by the Melbar. Finally, the Melbar had delivered conditions to humanity that would bring peace between the two races. All humanity could return to their home planet and vacate all settlements on all other planets. Then humanity would be allowed to live in peace until such time as the Melbar needed man's home world, at which time man would be quickly exterminated. Earth had naturally rejected such conditions although a small group that opposed space flight clamored for acceptance.
That was what had brought Tomar into this segment of space. Although it was not known just where the Melbar home world was, it was thought to be off somewhere in this general direction. He had been searching for planets that could be used as base planets for the Space Force. This had seemed to be just such a planet. He had tentatively named the planet "Lookout." Normally, the scout that found a planet got to name it. Back at HQ, a search of the data banks would determine if the name was already in use. If it wasn't, the name would be used unless it were obscene. Of course, once the planet was colonized, the colonists might change the name, but that didn't always happen.
Scans of the planet from space had detected no signs of intelligent life, but had detected large amounts of valuable deposits. It had a single large continent that stretched to within about thirty degrees of either pole. A high mountain range ran along the western coast for almost the entire length of the continent, to the east of the mountains was a large desert with another, older, but wider range of mountains bounding it on the east. To the east of this second mountain range was a fertile strip of land about a thousand kilometers wide.
Several islands dotted the ocean of this planet, including a rather large one on the opposite side of the world from the continent. It was Tomar's feeling that a base could be built on the eastern edge of the eastern mountains, using the mountains as shielding, and that an auxiliary base could be built on that island.
Of course, he had not landed, he really wasn't equipped to do the type of survey that would be necessary to determine the full suitability of the planet for a base. He had just been getting ready to pull out of orbit when the Melbar cruiser had appeared on the screens. There had been no time to try to run or evade the confrontation with the cruiser. Had he been given enough notice, his scout could easily have outrun the heavier ship, but it had come upon him using one of the planet's moons as cover.
Like all scout ships for the past three years, his ship had been equipped with a single torpedo. He had fired it at the same time that the Melbar cruiser had fired on him. His ship had been fatally crippled, but he had been able to see that his torpedo had made a direct hit on the enemy and that it had destroyed the cruiser. That was why he was still alive. If the cruiser had not been destroyed, it would have fired again and again until his scout was nothing more than drifting debris.
So although he had survived, the battle had left him in a rapidly decaying orbit with no power. Once he had hit atmosphere, the computer had flown the scout down like an inefficient glider. Although he had survived, his ship hadn't. After he had regained his composure, he had surveyed the damage and decided that there was no way that he could ever repair it, even a fully equipped shipyard would probably decide that it would be cheaper and easier to simply build a new ship rather than try to repair this one.
One of the few things that had cheered him up somewhat was the discovery that his subspace message torpedoes had survived intact. He had quickly encoded a message to Space Force Headquarters, giving the location of this planet, as much information about it as he had available, and an accurate account of what had happened along with the surviving computer records. He had then launched the torpedo.
He had no doubt that it would reach it's intended destination, that was preprogrammed into it. It was four meters long, but only about fifteen centimeters in diameter, so it would be very unlikely that any Melbar would detect it. Even if they did, it was mostly engine, with a superb set of navigational computers. Enclose that in a shell, add a small compartment for the message discs, and you had the fastest space craft made by man. Even the human scout ships, which were the fastest manned spacecraft in space, human or Melbar, seemed slow compared to the message torpedoes.
Scout ships could carry two people, but it had been found that the extended periods of enforced intimacy with a single other person in the small ships simply did not work for most people, so it had long ago been decided that the scouts would normally be single man or woman ships. As a result of the long periods of loneliness, scout ship pilots all talked to themselves. Tomar was no different from other scout pilots in this respect.
"Well, Tomar, old son," he had said to himself, "looks like we're in for a bit of difficulty for awhile."
"Don't worry," he had answered himself, "they'll send out a rescue party for us. If nothing else, our reputation will make them want to see this planet that we've found."
"Yeah, I know. `Lucky Tomar' they call us. Huh! Wonder how lucky they will think that we are when they find out that we got shot down by a Melbar cruiser?"
"They will probably think that we are luckier than before when they find out that we not only survived, but that we also managed to destroy the cruiser at the same time."
"You have a point there. But look, we can't stay here. It'll take the torpedo a full month to get back to HQ. Then even if they leave right away, and travel at full boost all of the way back out here, it will take them at least another three months more to get here, probably closer to four since it is unlikely that they will travel at full boost all of the way. You can probably add another month from the time that the torp arrives at HQ until they leave due to bureaucratic fumbling. That adds up to about five or six months, and I don't know if you noticed it, but the water tanks were ruptured in the crash, we don't have more than a few days worth of water left. If we were to stay here, all that they would find when they got here would be one very desiccated mummy. I don't know about you, but that idea doesn't really appeal to me."
"OK, lets check the computer, see if it can tell us anything about where we are, if there is any water anywhere around here and what have you."
The computer had been operational, but only barely. It had managed to produce a map for him pinpointing his location. He was about a three to four day march west of the eastern mountain range. The nearest water that the computer knew about was in those mountains. Heading for the western range was out of the question, even if his water supply were unlimited, he couldn't carry enough to reach them on foot. The scout ships were normally equipped with a gravsled, but the propulsion motor in his had been destroyed in the crash. The grav units still worked, he could load it up with supplies and equipment and pull it along with him. It should float along quite nicely, but he would not be able to ride it. One thing that he didn't have to worry about was having it run out of power. It was battery powered and the batteries were recharged by solar cells. With the sunlight available here, power was no problem.
He had loaded all of his water and available food on the sled. Food was another problem. The scout ships normally carried a certain amount of emergency rations, and some frozen items, such as meats. But a large percentage of his food normally came from hydroponics on the ship. There was no way that he could carry the whole hydroponic system with him, even if it had not been damaged. A semiautomatic rifle with three hundred rounds of ammo went on the sled, a semiautomatic pistol went into a holster at his right hip. He had a hundred rounds of ammo for that. On his left hip he hung a sheath knife. He could have cut mild steel with it and then used it to shave. He had another bit of luck when he found that his analyzer was undamaged. With that, he could examine potential food. The analyzer wouldn't tell him if it was good to eat or tasty, but it would tell him if it would poison him or nourish him.
He had set a beacon on the ship to aid in it's being found. The beacon would emit a one hundred nanosecond burst of energy every three seconds. Since the rescuing space craft would know what to look for, and at what frequency, they would have no trouble finding it. But because of it's short duration, it was very unlikely that the Melbar would find it. He had left a message in the control room to tell potential rescuers where he had gone, and why. He also told them that he was taking a signal transponder with him.
The transponder was a very simple device. If it detected a very specific frequency, it would amplify it, delay it a tenth of a second and then rebroadcast it. That would make him easy to find. It would also beep every time that it rebroadcast a signal. That would tell him that rescue was on the way. The transponder also went on the sled as did a medical and first aid kit.
He had added some extra clothing, a tent, sleeping bag, a laser cutter, a combination heater/cooking stove, a pair of binoculars, and a few other odds and ends that he could think of and had been on his way. Both the stove and laser were battery powered and could easily be recharged by the gravsled. He had left the log on board the ship, as was proper, but had taken a portable vocorder with him to act as a diary. That was two days ago.
He had done most of his traveling by night. The heat was a lot less then, and that meant that he needed less water. He had just found this rock shelter. The sun had only been up for about two hours, but the heat out in the sun was already becoming uncomfortable. A thermometer was one of the things that he didn't have, but if he had to hazard a guess, he would say that it was probably somewhere in the vicinity of 30 degrees C. In the sun, it would feel much hotter.
He had a drink, ate some dried emergency rations and set the alarm on the gravsled. The alarm on the sled would quickly awaken him if anything besides him moved within a fifty meter radius. Although he had seen no animal life so far on this world, he had heard some during his night marches, chilling howls, fortunately always at a distance.
When you considered that Lookout's day was almost identical in length to Earth's day, and that he had been on the march since about two hours before sundown until about two hours after sunup Tomar wasn't as tired as you might expect. The fact that Lookout's gravity was only .8G helped. The planet was larger than Earth, but less dense, this allowed it to have a deeper gravity well, even though the gravity was less intense than on Earth. The deeper gravity well meant that it could hold a thicker atmosphere than Earth's and still have an atmospheric pressure that was about the same as the home planet. In addition, the oxygen content was almost 25 percent higher than Earth's. So, combining the lower gravity and the extra oxygen, Tomar was not nearly as tired as he would have been had he done the same thing on Earth.
Tomar laid his sleeping bag on the ground in the semi cave and laid down on top of it and quickly fell asleep.
He awoke slightly confused. It was still too early for him to start his march, the sun was much too high, it couldn't be more than three hours since he had gone to sleep. Then he realized that the gravsled alarm was what had awakened him. Instantly alert, he grabbed up his rifle and started surveying his surroundings. When he didn't spot anything, he checked the alarm on the gravsled. It was pointing to the south. The indicator showed that it was thirty two meters away. "That's strange," he said to himself. "The alarm swears that something is moving about out there only thirty meters away, but I don't see anything." He continued to search the landscape to the south as the alarm frantically warned of the approach of something. "Then," he answered himself, "you had better look a little lower. What is THAT?"
"THAT" looked like the head of a mole or gopher trail, only larger. It was headed his way.
Although scouts normally did not land on strange planets, they all went through some pretty extensive survival training. That training paid off now. He quickly judged the speed at which the gopher trail was headed his way, then strapped his holster belt on. He slung the rifle over his shoulder and started to climb the rock that he had been using for a shelter. When he reached the top, the gopher trail was still about fifteen meters away. He unslung his rifle, fed a round into the chamber and waited.
He didn't have long to wait. At a distance of five meters, the sand suddenly erupted and something lifted up out of it. That something looked for all the world like the head of a dragon that he had seen in a fantasy painting back on Earth several years ago. The head must have been a good ninety centimeters across with a longish, pointed snout with flaring nostrils. Large, yellow eyes with vertically slit pupils surveyed the scene. The head was attached to a long, sinuous neck. The other end of the neck disappeared into the sand. Overall, the thing was covered in burnished bluish green scales that shone in the sun. Tomar took all of this in immediately. Then the "dragon" spotted him. Slowly, the head continued to raise up until it towered a good seven or eight meters in the air. That put it a good three meters above the rock that Tomar was perched on. The eyes never left Tomar. When it had reached it's position above Tomar, the huge mouth opened and a near deafening hiss erupted from the mouth. The mouthful of teeth that it showed to Tomar told him that it was in no respect a vegetarian. The breath confirmed his observation. Tomar quickly took aim with his rifle and fired into the top of the creature's mouth. The head recoiled and lifted another five meters, then fell. The whole body started thrashing about and burst out of the "gopher trail" that Tomar had first noticed. Finally, after thrashing about for about fifteen minutes, it subsided. By now, the entire body was lying on the surface of the sand.
"My God, that thing must be seventy meters long!" he said to himself. He climbed down from his perch and decided to inspect it a little more closely. It really wasn't a dragon, having no legs or wings. Rather it looked like a very large snake with a dragon's head. Despite it's size, none of the scales were larger than his thumb nail. He paced off it's length and found, as nearly as he was able to measure, it was seventy five meters long, and about two meters thick at the center. He promptly dubbed it a dragon snake.
All thoughts of sleep had been banished by the adrenaline rush that the dragon snake's attack had caused. "Well, old son," he said to himself, "I don't know about you, but after that bit of excitement, I'm not the least bit sleepy."
"Know what you mean," he answered himself. "Are you thinking what I'm thinking?"
"Could be, that thing was going to eat us and I've heard tell that snake is delicious."
"Then lets cut off a steak or two and run it through the analyzer, see what it says about dragon snake meat."
He attacked the dragon snake just behind the head. The first thing that he discovered was that even though his knife was very sharp, dragon snake skin is very tough. He had trouble cutting it. After he had made an "L" shaped cut in the skin, he discovered that although it is very tough, it is very loosely attached to the flesh beneath it. It peeled away quite easily. He cut off a slab of meat and carried it over to the gravsled and fed it to the analyzer.
The analyzer hummed quietly for a few minutes and then printed out a report. The analyzer had proclaimed that not only was the meat not poisonous and contained nothing inimical to his system, but that it was really quite nutritious as well, being mostly high quality protein with just a little fat. It also contained a decent supply of vitamins and minerals. The variety of meat was unknown.
He cut off a more generous sized slab of the dragon snake and started it cooking on his stove. The smell was quite appetizing.
While the meat was cooking, he fingered the flap of skin that he had cut loose. Although it was very tough and difficult to cut, it felt very soft and pliable.
When the meat was done, he sliced off a small piece of it and cautiously tasted it. "Hmmm," he decided, "not bad. A little tough, but not bad."
"Uh huh," he answered himself. "Tastes a little like chicken with just a little fish thrown in and a whole lot of something else that I don't know what it is, but not bad."
After he had eaten his fill, he decided that it would be a real shame to allow all of that perfectly good meat to go to waste. He cut perhaps fifty pounds of the meat into thin strips and sprinkled them lightly with salt, then hung them on a line that he stretched between his gravsled and a knob of rock, in the sun, to dry. Then, using his laser cutter, he continued the two cuts that he had made in the skin of the dragon snake. Soon, he had a piece of hide about eight feet by ten feet removed from the carcass. Then, moving further down the body of the dragon snake, he removed a slightly larger piece of hide. These he spread out in the sun, flesh side up to dry. As an afterthought, he also sprinkled them lightly with salt. Having accomplished this task, and in the process having burned off the adrenaline, he reset his alarm, laid back down and was soon asleep again.
When he awoke, several hours had passed and the sun was low in the western sky. He decided to postpone his breakfast as the dragon snake was beginning to develop a very definite "ripe" aroma. He packed up his supplies, not forgetting the dried meat and dragon snake hide which had dried nicely but had maintained it's softness and suppleness, and resumed his journey.
After he had been walking about an hour, during the early dusk, he tested his homemade jerky by feeding a small piece of it to his analyzer. After the analyzer proclaimed that the meat was still fit for human consumption, he made a quick meal and then continued on his way. Behind him, he could hear howls, and faintly, snarls. The dragon snake carcass was drawing the evening dinner crowd.
Chapter 2 The Mountains
Dawn found him in the foothills of the mountain range. The plant life was becoming more plentiful and it's character had changed somewhat, but was still not of a type that you would expect to find where water was abundant, still, it was a hopeful sign.
He stopped to consult his map and get his bearings. According to his calculations and the map, he should get into the mountains proper during his trek tonight. Straight ahead of him, he could make out a gap between two mountains. Judging from the contour markings on the map, the pass that that gap represented should lead him to the nearest water. Trouble was, he was going to have to climb nearly a thousand meters to get through the pass. He hoped that he would be able to get his gravsled through it. From the map, it seemed like a gentle enough slope, as long as there were no really steep or narrow spots, he should be all right.
As he was looking at the map, he caught a flicker of motion from the corner of his peripheral vision. He looked where he thought that he had seen the motion, but saw nothing but some dried out looking vines, brown and rough looking. "Did you see something move?" he asked himself.
"Thought I did, but I don't see anything now," he answered.
As he stood there looking at the ground, he had one of those urges that sometimes come over people for no apparent reason and that they normally never think about before, during or after the fact. He spat on the ground and the nearest vine instantly pounced on the spot. That was the only word that he could think of to describe what happened. The vine pounced. Almost instantly, dozens of small, white feeder roots extruded from the vine and in seconds, the spot was dry.
"Did you see that?"
"Yeah, but I don't believe it. Course, as dry as things are here, water would be precious, and the ability to get it would be a definite survival characteristic."
As he stood there looking at the vine, the feeder roots had disappeared by now, he felt a tugging on his left ankle. He looked down and saw that one of the vines had wrapped itself around his boot and literally hundreds of the feeder roots were probing at the black plastic of his boot. Fortunately for him, the plastic that made up his boots was very tough. It was also porous enough to allow perspiration to evaporate, which was probably what had attracted the vine. Naturally, he tried to pull free, but the vine clung to his boot tenaciously.
Tomar started to bend down and grab the vine to pull it off of his boot. "Whoa!" he said to himself. "That vine is trying to get the water that it detects seeping through your boot. The skin of your hand isn't nearly as tough as your boot. Those rootlets would probably penetrate your skin and drain you dry in minutes."
He slipped his knife from the sheath at his belt and tried to pry the vine loose. This action severed several of the rootlets probing at his boot. The vine's reaction was violent. It jerked and thrashed about, nearly pulling him off of his feet. He certainly didn't want to fall down here among these vines. He might not be able to get back up. Tomar's next action was much more decisive. Taking careful aim he swung the heavy knife much like a sword and severed the vine about eight centimeters from his boot. The vine's reaction, if anything, was even more violent than before. Luckily, he was no longer attached to it. The vine recoiled and whipped about, spewing water all around. Even the stump of vine still wrapped around his boot had water running out of it. The other vines in the area all pounced on the spots of water that hit the ground. Even the vine that had attacked him was now sucking some of it's own water back up. The cut end had quickly sealed over and it had stopped leaking.
Tomar's next action was in part dictated by his ancestry. He caught up the rope that was attached to the gravsled and moved away from the vines. Another man might have looked upon the vines as a source of water, but Tomar still had three days' worth of water left.
There were few left on Earth that could say, "I am an Apache." or, "I am a Cherokee." There were a larger number that could say, "I am an Native American, mostly Apache and Cherokee." There were even more that could claim to be part Native American. The Native Americans, like the rest of Earth's population, were slowly being homogenized into one single stock, human. Tomar was mostly Native American of mixed tribes, but his great grandmother had been a Chinese Buddhist. He also had some European Caucasian mixed into his background. He had been raised as an Native American, with the Native American's reverence for the Earth Mother, and taught to tread lightly upon the Earth, taking from it with gratitude, only what he needed and no more. He looked upon the water that he was leaving behind as belonging to the vines, but made a mental note about them in case he reached a point that he really needed it. He had also received some Buddhist training from his grandmother that allowed him to placidly meditate himself into a state of peaceful nirvana. Mix that with some of the Christian attitudes that he had been exposed to and the result made him an ideal scout.
After Tomar got clear of the vines, he took out his vocorder and made a verbal note about them, labeling them as "water seekers." It was perhaps an hour later that Tomar found a cave which he soon ascertained was unoccupied. He set up camp, ate and drank and settled down to sleep the day away.
Fortunately, the cave was a lot cooler than the previous shelters that he had used on this planet and he rested more comfortably that day than he had since he had first set foot on Lookout.
He was up early that afternoon, and felt more rested than he had on any other day since he had been here. He ate a hearty breakfast, knowing that the coming night's journey could be difficult. The mountain pass lay ahead of him this night. After he had eaten, he stepped out of the cave and stared at the pass ahead of him. From here he couldn't see anything that looked insurmountable. But he was fully aware that what things looked like up close might be very different from what they appeared to be from ten kilometers away. He decided to wait a little before he started out. It was still pretty hot out there and his road was already sloping uphill. In that heat, any exertion would cost him a lot of water.
He did decide that he would like to make a closer study of the pass so he dug out his binoculars. The name was an old one, but they bore little resemblance to the old devices of the same name that were based on a series of lenses or lenses and prisms, these were electronic, powered by batteries that could be recharged by the gravsled. Their color reproduction over the entire visible spectrum was excellent, and a minor adjustment would allow them to operate in either the infrared or ultraviolet, converting those wavelengths into the visible portion of the spectrum. In addition to that, the focus could be adjusted from infinity to extremely close, so close in fact that they could double as a microscope. The magnification was also adjustable from 1X to 200X. The old optical binoculars would have been useless at that magnification as hand held devices. The normal slight tremors of the hands holding them would have caused the field of view to jump around so much that nothing could be observed. With these, built in electronic compensation could and would hold the image steady for him. One more feature made them very useful. A powerful photomultiplier system could make a darkness that was too dark in which to see at all seem like early dusk. He had not needed these on his night marches because the gravsled had lights that were more than adequate to light his path.
Out in the heat once more, he studied the shimmering landscape ahead of him carefully for perhaps ten minutes. He could detect nothing that would cause him any major difficulties.
He returned to the coolness of the cave to wait for cooler temperatures. He finally set out, and found that the slight uphill trek was more taxing than had been his previous night marches. Fortunately, the lesser gravity and extra oxygen helped to compensate and he continued to make good time. Some small trees were starting to grow along the way.
About midnight, he came upon an obstacle in his path that he had not noticed during his earlier examination with his binoculars. A crevasse cut across his path. The near edge was higher than the far edge, that was why he had not been able to see it with his binoculars from the cave. A good five meters separated this side from the far side. In the darkness, he could not see the bottom. In the darkness outside of the light from his gravsled, he could not make out the ends of the crevasse to see if there was any way around.
He dug out his binoculars again and using the night vision, examined the crevasse to either side. The sides of his path slopped upward on either side. The crevasse followed their contour and ended in sheer cliffs at both ends. There was no way around. And from what he could see the sides were much too steep to climb down and then back up. If the propulsion unit of his gravsled had been working, the crevasse would be no problem. The gravsled would try to maintain some set altitude above the surface that it was traveling over. But in order to smooth out the ride, there was some compensation build into it, delaying it's action somewhat so that it did not try to follow every dip and bump that it passed over. By moving fast enough the gravsled would be over the crevasse before it had a chance to react.
He decided to take a lunch break while he thought about the problem.
The Problem: He was running out of water, but there was water on the other side of this mountain pass. A crevasse blocked his way. The crevasse was too wide to jump over and there was no way around it. There was no way to climb down and then back up. What he needed was a bridge. He didn't have anything in his supplies to build a bridge. But there were those small trees growing along the way, maybe...
He went over to the nearest trees and inspected them. They were a disappointment. They were tall enough, but the trunks were scrawny things, the largest being no more than five or six centimeters in diameter. Well, he didn't really have any choice, it looked as though it was these trees or nothing.
He took out his sheath knife and kneeling beside one of the tallest, took a healthy swing at the base of it. His knife bounced off leaving only a slight nick in the trunk of the tree. "That is one tough tree," he said to himself. "Yeah," he answered, "guess that it is time to get serious."
He got his laser cutter from the gravsled, and returning to the tree, he again knelt beside it. The beam from the laser sliced through the trunk and he was treated to a cloud of steam and rancid smelling smoke. The tree toppled in about one second. He used the laser to trim the branches from the tree.
Then he decided to test the strength of the tree. Catching it near the base where it was the thickest and at arms' length, he easily bent it double and it sprang back straight as soon as he released it. That might make a good bow material, but it certainly was not strong enough to construct a bridge. There was no way that it could support his weight.
Frustrated, he sat down to think. Suddenly, he had an inspiration. "Who said that the bridge has to support my weight?" he asked himself.
"You did, dummy," he answered himself.
He got up and quickly cut five more of the tallest of the trees and trimmed them of their branches. Then he carried trees and branches back to the gravsled. Choosing the shortest of the tree trunks, he checked it's length against the width of the chasm. It easily spanned the width with a good twenty five centimeters on either side. Then he laid the trunks adjacent to each other, alternating them so that the base of one was next to the tip of it's neighbor. Then he started weaving the branches into his construction. An hour later, he had an open basketwork platform laying on the ground.
Then he gathered up the leaves and started weaving them into the framework. They were large, in width about twice that of his hand and about twice as long as the length of his hand. When he had finished, he had a platform that appeared to be solid.
He carefully maneuvered the bridge into position over the crevasse. Then he just as carefully lined up his gravsled with the bridge. This had to be right the first time, there would be no second try. After he had the gravsled aligned, he got behind it and started pushing it as fast as he could. By the time that the front end of the sled reached the edge of his bridge, he was moving at a shambling run. He jumped on the sled and let inertia do the rest.
As the gravsled passed over the bridge, it detected a semisolid surface and maintained it's altitude above that surface. No weight was placed on the bridge so there was no problem.
On the other side of the bridge, he got off of the gravsled and pulled the bridge over to the near side of the crevasse in case he should for some reason ever need it again.
He felt good about solving that problem, so good in fact that he started to sing a beer drinking song that had been popular with the cadets back at the academy.
I am a roving spaceman,
I travel to and fro,
Wherever a unknown star lurks,
That's where I go, I go,
That's where I go.Men used to sail the briny,
With stars for guides at night,
But I sail a different sea,
To see another sight, a sight,
To see another sight.I sail through the darkness,
Past blazing stars of every kind,
My ship is my home and my friend,
Give 'er a kick in the behind, the behind,
Give 'er a kick in the behind.I am a roving spaceman,
"A good cold beer would go over well right now," he thought.
Dawn found him at the top of the pass. He got out the binoculars and surveyed the vista before him. The path down this side of the pass seemed easier than what had been on the other side. Ahead of him was a valley. There seemed to be considerably more vegetation in the valley than he had seen on the other side of the mountain, but it still wasn't exactly what he would call lush. On the other side of the valley, there were two mountains. On the side of the right hand mountain was a verdant streak that ended in the valley. According to the computer's map, that was where the water was located.
He started down the mountain, keeping an eye open for some place to spend the day. He found it three hours later, and in his opinion, it was none too soon, it was already getting uncomfortably hot. The vegetation simply was not thick enough yet to cause any noticeable cooling. He had found another cave. This was not as deep or large as the previous day's cave, but it's entrance was somewhat shaded by a tree, that helped.
Maybe if he was lucky, he could reach the water tonight. Then he wouldn't have to ration himself so severely. It would be nice to be able to use some water for cooking as well. He awoke late in the afternoon with a vague feeling that his sleep had been troubled and that he had not slept too well.
He was able to start out earlier that evening than he had in the past. Having the mountain behind him helped. It cast it's shadow into the valley and allowed it to start cooling earlier than was possible on the western side.
That night's journey was easier than that of the previous night. For one thing, he was not climbing up a mountain pass and he encountered no crevasses. He did occasionally have to detour around some brush or trees. About two hours after midnight, he reached the edge of the verdant area that he had noted from the mountain pass. But no water yet. The growth here was much thicker, and of a different nature than any that he had yet seen on this planet. The plant growth slowed him down. It was a good hour more before he noticed that the ground seemed to be getting rather wet and soon he found a slow, small trickle of water. He followed it upstream.
Another two hours of detouring around the thickening vegetation and climbing over rocks found him well up on the mountain's side and the trickle of water had turned into a small brook bubbling over the rocks that lined it's bed. It looked clear and felt cool. He fed some of it into his analyzer. The analyzer soon proclaimed it to be pure and quite safe for human consumption. He drank his fill.
Then he did something that he had started to dream about. He made himself a hearty stew. Prior to finding potable water, he had not felt that he could afford to use the water that he had for cooking. Now he could and did. While the stew was cooking, he stripped and washed himself off as well as he could. Unfortunately, the flow of water was not strong enough or deep enough to allow him to enjoy a real bath.
After he had eaten, he started to examine some of the plant life that he found growing abundantly in this vicinity. None of it presented any candidates as dietary supplements to his own supplies. He checked his map and noted that water became more plentiful as you moved further to the east, and since he did not have enough food to last him until rescue could arrive, he decided to move on through the mountains toward the coast. If nothing else, perhaps he could find food in the coastal waters.
He refilled his water containers and headed on. Now, since he had climbed partway up the side of the mountain in order to get to the water, he had a choice, he could descend the mountain and head for the pass between the two mountains, or he could move around the side of the mountain until he came to the pass. Going down the mountain would certainly be easier than scrabbling along it's side, but then he would have to climb back up again when he reached the pass. He decided to try staying on the mountain until he found the pass. If the going got too rough, he could always descend later.
Dawn found him nearly at the pass, and very tired. He found a small cave that showed signs of recent habitation, but it was empty now. He moved in and cleaned it out somewhat.
Just as he was about to settle down, his alarm sounded. He quickly grabbed his weapons and headed for the mouth of the cave where his gravsled was standing. The alarm pointed downhill and to his left. By the time that he checked, the alarm indicated that whatever had set it off was about forty meters away and slowly moving in his direction. He scanned the area, but at first saw nothing.
He shut off the raucous alarm but continued to alternate between watching for whatever had set it off and then checking the indication on the alarm. When the alarm said that it was thirty meters away, Tomar spotted it. A dappled gray and brown shape was slinking along between the rocks and brush on the mountain side, headed in his direction. It was still too far away with the cover that it had for him to be able to get a good look at it, but it did not seem to be stalking. It was possible that it didn't even know that he was here.
At about ten meters away, it stepped into the open and Tomar got his first clear view of the creature. It was a little larger than a German Shepherd dog, and had a snout that was shaped much like that of a Shepherd. The creatures mouth was open enough to show that no Shepherd ever sported such teeth. Above the snout, a pair of large eyes suggested that the creature was nocturnal by nature, but did not suggest any friendliness or intelligence. Small, roundish, cup shaped ears and a small cranium completed the shape of the head. Also unlike the Shepherd, the head was scaled like a reptile, not fur bearing. A ruff, almost a mane of hair covered the shoulders and chest of the animal. Lizard like legs terminated in paws. All four legs and the hind quarters of the animal were covered in reptilian scales. At about eight meters, the creature stopped, dropped it's head near the ground and started to sniff. It seemed to have picked up his scent. Slowly, sniffing the ground, it moved his way.
Tomar could have shot the animal with a clean kill shot when it had first stepped into the open at ten meters, but it was not in his nature to kill needlessly. Still, he now made certain that his handgun was ready to fire and raised it. The animal continued to move closer, still sniffing the ground. It's stance and actions betrayed no fear, but were more those of a predator on the trail of prey.
When the animal was still about four meters away, it raised it's head and looked directly at Tomar. It's mouth opened wider and it's lips drew back, exhibiting a full mouth of fang-like teeth. A growl rumbled from it's mouth. Retractable claws extended from it's paws and the animal bunched itself for a leap. Tomar decided that the animal's intention was clear. He took aim and fired just as the animal was beginning it's leap. It fell in a heap about halfway to Tomar.
Tomar waited a few minutes to make certain that the animal was properly dead and then slowly approached it. The breeze, which had been blowing across the mountain side changed directions and brought the odor of the beast to him. A stench that came close to gagging him told him that the animal might be a scavenger as well as a predator.
He had been frightened by the dragon snake until he had killed it. He had been awed by it's size and impressed by the beauty and toughness of it's hide. But at no time had he felt any revulsion in the presence of the dragon snake, even though it's breath had been pretty revolting.
Somehow or other, the creature at his feet did awaken feelings of revulsion in Tomar. He didn't think that it was simply the stench, although that certainly didn't help. No, he felt that it was more the way in which the mammalian and reptilian characteristics seemed to be blended, somehow obscenely in this creature. Tomar could understand predators, even respect them. He could also understand scavengers and appreciate the need for them. But he could not understand an animal that seemed to be an unwholesome combination of the two, such as this creature seemed to be.
Still, meat was meat, and his present supply of food would not last forever. Taking his knife, he sliced into the haunch of the creature. The flesh seemed to be more gristle than meat. Overcoming his distaste, he sliced off a piece of the flesh and carried it to his analyzer. Just before inserting the meat into the analyzer, he smelled it. The flesh itself carried the same stench, if somewhat subdued, as the animal. "Well, old boy. I'm not sure that I could eat that even if I didn't have anything else," he told himself.
"But look upon it as a last desperate backup just in case. Feed it to the analyzer. Maybe we will be lucky and it will say that it isn't any good," he answered.
The analyzer chewed on the sample for a minute and then answered his wishes. The meat did have some usable protein in it, but it also contained several other substances which the analyzer decided that were not at all compatible with Tomar's body chemistry. Tomar sighed a sigh of relief and disposed of the remaining sample in the analyzer. Then he cut a sapling and used it as a pole to push the beast's remains down the hill a ways. He was reluctant to touch it.
Back at the cave, he got out his vocorder and made a note of the incident, describing the animal and the findings of the analyzer, dubbing the animal a lizard-dog. Then he reset the alarm and settled down for some sleep. And sleep he did, although somewhat restlessly.
That evening when he set out, for some reason, he really felt good, elated, almost buoyant which didn't fit with his nagging feelings that his sleep had been troubled. If you had asked him why, he couldn't have told you. He didn't know himself. Still, the attitude did help his travel and he made good time. This pass was not as difficult as the previous one had been, no real obstacles or crevasses in his way. At one point during his night march, he did hear a sound like large wings flapping overhead, as though some huge bird had flown over. But he saw nothing. Perhaps the lights from his gravsled had kept whatever it was at a safe distance.
Morning found him already descending the eastern side of the pass. Ahead of him was another valley. This one appeared more verdant, with a more lush growth of vegetation than the last. Still, his map did not indicate any readily available supply of water in this valley. In spite of that, the vegetation that he soon encountered was not as dry and sear as had been most of it in the previous valley.
He was not as lucky this morning as he had been the last few mornings. He did not locate a cave. Instead, he set up his tent. After eating, he again set his alarm and retired for the day.
He did not sleep well that day. His rest was disturbed by unpleasant dreams. But only the dreams disturbed his sleep. The alarm was silent all day. When he finally got up, his black scout's uniform was wet with perspiration. He attributed the dreams that he had had to the heat and soon forgot about them. He did not feel very rested.
After eating, he packed his tent and other equipment and was on his way. According to his map, he had one more valley to cross. Then one more mountain pass and he would be in the foothills and the coastal plains. His map showed several streams and rivers there. He should be able to find both ample water and usable food there. At least he hoped so. He knew that he could find water. He wasn't sure about the food, but his experience with the dragon snake encouraged him. If he didn't find food, he was going to be mighty skinny, if he was still alive, by the time that he was found.
The vegetation in the valley caused some detours and slowed him down, but the pass through the mountains was easier than even the last one. The next and final one should be easier yet.
Morning found him entering the valley. Here the vegetation was even more luxurious than in the previous valley. It was beginning to look more like plants that grew where water was abundant. Still his map showed no streams or lakes in this valley. He might be able to dig a hole and find water, but he didn't really need it yet.
He tried some likely looking nuts that he found, something similar to Earthly acorns, but the analyzer rejected them outright. It seems that they contained a high concentration of a substance very much like oxalic acid and some alkaloid that the analyzer couldn't identify. A juicy, pink fruit that he found was also rejected by the analyzer.
Again he set up his tent in the shade of some trees. It seemed cooler this morning. After eating, he set his alarm and again settled down to sleep the day away. Once he awoke from a nightmare, but couldn't remember what it was all about. Again his clothing was drenched, but he couldn't blame it on the heat, it wasn't that hot. After he had calmed down somewhat and had a drink of water, he managed to go back to sleep and slept peacefully for the rest of the day.
To read more of the Tomar's adventures, click HERE
