He found two large roach type creatures and was able to pry them apart and feast on the succulent white meat without extreme discomfort while walking. The terrain was becoming easier, which was good in that he would leave fewer signs for Dagger and could move faster, but bad in that he deduced the savanna was ahead again. He would be forced to enter the broad plain, and Dagger’s shooting range and visibility would both improve dramatically. Still, Dagger had to be feeling severe fatigue. Another day would likely destroy his effectiveness, and Tirdal had been trained in patience.
He found it ironic that he was trying to outwait a human professional in the art. Still, the end result would be instructive, assuming, of course, that he survived to report back. It would be instructive only to him if he failed.
The terrain was very open now, the trees sparsely spread and the undergrowth thickening into scrub again, here where the sunlight was greater. It changed to thick grass on the continental plain ahead. Tirdal dropped to a crawl and slipped under what growth he could, seeking some kind of cover to use ahead. It was very awkward to crawl on the points of his elbows while clutching the box behind his head.
There was a wash from a stream, perhaps the same one he used as before. It was narrower and shallower than the one in the woods south of here, which would make sense, the terrain here being a broad plateau above the rich forest beneath it and the ancient hills. No matter. The cut would provide cover, possible food, water, cooling to refresh him, help mask his IR signature and other lifeforms to create confusion. It would safely take him some distance.
Ferret decided to have another whack at Tirdal. If he could get him to team up, they might outflank Dagger, the real threat; then they could discuss the box. It might be they’d have to kill each other over it, but they could try, dammit.
“Tirdal,” he said, “we need to deal with Dagger.”
“Of course we do, Ferret,” Tirdal replied. Ferret was sighing in relief as he continued, “And Dagger and I need to deal with you, and the two of you with me.” Ferret gritted his teeth in frustration, but Tirdal was still talking. “An ironic situation, to say the least. Dagger’s motives are obvious: money. Yours appear to be driven by loyalty, but of course we can’t believe that. Mine are driven by a similar loyalty, complicated by other issues. You know you can’t trust Dagger and believe you can’t trust me. I know I can’t trust Dagger and know I can’t trust you under the circumstances, though if I could explain things, you would agree, I hope. Dagger knows we’ll both kill him, given the chance. Darhel don’t really have irony, but I begin to understand it. A perverse concept.”
“So we agree on Dagger,” Ferret said. “We take care of him, then we can talk. You followed me the entire mission; you must know what I’m like.”
“It would be a tempting offer, Ferret,” Tirdal replied, “except that I have no way of knowing whether or not you’re offering the same deal to Dagger. The artifact is the catalyst for all this trouble.”
“Hide the damned box, Tirdal!” Ferret snapped, almost pleading. He really didn’t want to fight both of them. He really didn’t want to kill Tirdal. Tirdal had seemed like a decent enough guy. Alien. Whatever. He really didn’t want either of them to kill him, or for fate to catch up with his wounds. “I don’t need it! I just need to know that you don’t have it, and certainly that Dagger doesn’t. If you can’t get it off the planet first, we’re safe to hunt Dagger. Then we can go together — you tell me where the box is, I take it, you control the pod. Balance of power.”
“It would be a reasonable suggestion under most circumstances, Ferret, but at present I can’t do that. I have to maintain control of this artifact. I realize that creates distrust on your part. I can’t help that.”
Ferret, frustrated by talk, said, “Tirdal, I’m on your side, dammit.”
“That’s probably true, Ferret,” Tirdal said, “but we both know I can’t afford to believe that.”
“Dammit!” Ferret said, frustration in his voice. “Can’t you read my mind?”
“I can’t answer that question, Ferret, though the answer should be obvious.” Ferret likely was telling the truth. The whole scenario wasn’t organized enough to be a conspiracy. Ferret did seem to have pure motives. Of course, those were human motives, not Darhel. And as harsh as it was, there was no reason for Tirdal to team up with a crippled human, and every reason to split Dagger’s attention. It was doubtful that humans appreciated that logic.
“Okay, Tirdal, can you tell me where Dagger is? And I’ll go take a few shots at him.”
“I suppose there’s no harm in telling you that, Ferret. Though shooting at him wouldn’t be sufficient proof. If you are able to wound him or kill him, it will show you have a greater interest in either the artifact or your own life than in Dagger’s existence. You see the problem we face.” If he could get Ferret to do that, it would improve Tirdal’s odds. If he could get Ferret to panic, he might be able to confirm his mindset, as he had with Dagger. But it would take a strong emotion.
“However, Dagger is behind me in terrain that is opening up. I can’t be more specific than that. As to his grid coordinates, stand by.” He considered carefully how to not give his position away. He really didn’t have Dagger localized that well, but if Ferret headed that way, it was less trouble for him. Ferret might also try the same stunt with Dagger. Either way, it made sense to share intelligence about the common enemy. Irony was truly a fascinating concept. “Based on the pod’s position as we deployed as zero meridian, here’s Dagger’s grid,” he said, and read off the numbers. “That should place him within five hundred meters. I’d bet on it being less than half that, but I can’t guarantee it.”
“Got it, Tirdal,” Ferret said. Wow. That was only about a kilometer ahead. They were moving as slowly as he was. Of course, three days of fatigue, wounds and the device were burdening them all. “I’ll try to bag him. Then you’ll join me after that?” he asked. His voice was rising.
“I can’t do that, sorry,” Tirdal replied, voice still even, very even.
“Dammit, Tirdal, I’m on your side! Please!” Ferret said, growing panicky.
“I don’t know human voices well enough to ascertain their qualities. You’re distressed, that’s all. It’s an honest emotion, but not specific enough. You could be being threatened by Dagger, or you could just be in pain.”
Ferret sounded sad, hurt, when he replied, “Then fuck you, you alien turd.”
Tirdal was still having trouble with the concept of human stress. They could almost appear to change sides on a whim, especially when angry. Yet usually, there was one side they stuck to. Though they did act on the cusp of the moment sometimes, often unpredictably and illogically. They might go outside the available choices and do something utterly irrelevant.
What would Ferret and Dagger reasonably do? What might they do that wasn’t reasonable? Speculation was necessary, even if likely to be wrong.
Dagger saw the trees tapering to scrub and knew the grassland was ahead. Now would be a good time to detour off to the east and seek high ground. If he could get up on the bluffs he saw, he would be in a good position to parallel Tirdal and get off good shots. He was aching, wiped out and suffering from thirst and hunger, but this would be over soon and he could rest and even cook some meat. He had to admit the little twerp had put up one hell of a struggle. Not bad for a soft, urban wimp.