“Can I?” Miriam asked.
“Go ahead,” Julia replied. “Do you know how to use… ?”
“I did it when I was in college,” Miriam said, taking over the controls. She rubbed the thing on the back, then picked up a piece of the grass and started playing with it.
After a while the thing rolled over on its back, waving all eight tentacles in the air. Miriam stroked its belly, then worked up towards the mouth. The underside of the beast was segmented, unlike the top but very much like a crab.
Near the mouth there was a broad, flat plate. When the woman rubbed on that, the thing’s arms spasmed then went limp.
“Oh,” she said, her eyes widening. “Did I kill it?”
“No, no,” Julia said, looking over at her monitors. The thing’s heart was still going, but it had slowed. Then the heart rate picked back up and it started waving its arms again, grabbing at the ground to flip itself over.
“Try it again,” Julia said. “Before it gets up.”
Rubbing the same patch caused the same reaction. The crabpus appeared to go to sleep. Not for long, but for a few seconds.
“Huh,” Julia said. “Crabs have the same reaction. It’s supposed to be something about mating, but I’d have to look it up to be sure. Tickle them in that one spot, and they go to sleep.”
“That’s cute,” Miriam said, still playing with the beast.
“Yes, but it’s not getting us anywhere,” Julia said, sighing. “Want to name it?”
“Okay,” Miriam said, smiling. “I hereby name you Tickly.”
“No, silly, I meant the species,” Julia replied.
“Hey, look at that,” Staff Sergeant Roberts said, looking over the edge of the cliff at the water.
The Marines had formed a solid defense zone down at the narrow neck and were working on setting up defensive positions. The problem with that was that they were on solid rock. They’d settled for gathering large rocks — the Wyverns were easily capable of picking up two hundred kilo boulders — and stacking them. Thus far there hadn’t been any sign of predators but the nearest grass was nearly a hundred meters from the sangers.
While waiting for their principals to arrive, the SF science teams had been wandering around the area looking for samples. Roberts had found a different form of lichen or fungus, he wasn’t sure which to call it, over by the edge of the rocks and then glanced at the water.
“Whatcha got?” Bartlett asked.
“Crabs,” Roberts said, then snorted. “More of them crabpus things. But swimming.”
Bartlett cautiously got down on the Wyvern’s knee and elbow wheels and shimmied forward until he could sensor pod over the edge.
He saw what Roberts had exclaimed about quickly enough. A school of the crab things were riding the surf that pounded the rocks, apparently feeding on something.
“We got any fishing poles?” Roberts asked. “I bet one of them would go for a little crabpus meat on a hook.”
Suddenly the school scattered, some of them darting off to sea while others jumped up on the rocks and held on like limpets. A larger form could be seen in the depths, but the waves and foam made it impossible to get any details. He couldn’t even figure out if it was a bigger crabpus or some other form.
What got Bartlett was that he couldn’t figure out how the things swam. He couldn’t see the tentacles propelling them that fast. But zooming in on the ones on the rocks he could see that there were inlets along their sides.
“Huh,” Roberts said. “Jet propulsion?”
“Like a squid, yeah,” Bartlett said, rolling back and standing up. “Tuck their legs up and shoot along. We’ll try to figure out a way to get some samples, later. Even if we don’t have any poles, a hand-line would work.”
“Bio Two, Bio One is on the way down,” the Marine sergeant handling the transfer said. “Paging Bio Babysitters, Bio Babysitters to the lift, if you please.”
“I hate Marines,” Bartlett muttered.
“Why are Marines like bananas?” Roberts said, following him to the boat.
“I dunno,” Bartlett said, turning on his external speaker as they approached the lift. “Why are Marines like bananas?”
“Because they start out green, turn yellow and die in bunches,” Roberts said, laughing.
“That ain’t funny,” the Recon sergeant growled.
“Dig in, they said,” Jaen said, rolling a rock into position. “Make some fighting positions, they said…”
“At least it gives us some cover,” Berg pointed out.
“Why do we need cover?” Drago called from over by the ship. “We have Two-Gun guarding us! Complete with giant pistols.”
“Quit crossing chatter,” Gunnery Sergeant Hocieniec said. He didn’t step on inter-team chatter but he was death on cross-team. “Get ready for personnel to pass lines.”
“You know, I’m perfectly comfortable staying here,” Berg said.
“Me, too,” Hatt replied. “Let somebody else get all the fun.”
“Shut up and move rocks,” Jaen growled. “If we do get in the busy, I want something to hide behind while Berg saves my ass.”
“Bio, Geo, you ready?” Captain MacDonald asked.
“Geo’s up,” Master Sergeant Runner said. He’d drawn one of the 30mm cannons for this mission.
“Bio’s up,” Bartlett said.
“We’re going to take this slow and careful,” Captain MacDonald said. “There are some big guys moving in from the south. Elephant big. We don’t know how they’re going to act. Bio, do your sampling in a straight line. Forget the ring toss. Just get your samples and keep moving. We’re going to head towards the treeline, maybe do a delta if we don’t turn into anything, and then head back. Second Platoon is going to stay here to cover our retreat if we have to unass. Are there any questions?”
“If we see any exposed rock can we head for it?” Dr. Dean asked, raising one of the arms of his suit. “Maybe a small hill?”
“I just hope we don’t make our last stand on one, Doctor,” MacDonald said. “We’re on an alien planet eleven light-years from home surrounded by an alien biology we can’t eat and there aren’t any boats capable of coming to pick us up if we screw up. Let’s just try this easy one time before we get fancy.”
Sergeant Terry Lovelace was glad when the last of the science teams had unassed the boat. Playing door man was no job for a good Marine.
“Join the corps,” Crowley muttered. “Travel to exotic lands, meet interesting people…”
“And kill them,” Corporal Lujan finished, reciting a motto that had probably started with Sargon’s army. “Interesting things in this case. Exotic planets.”
“Looks like they found something,” Lovelace said, watching the group, which was most of the way to the woodline, stopped. “Wonder what it is.”
“A world of hurt,” Lujan said. “I’d just as soon stay here.”
“Where were we?” Lovelace asked, the suit shifting as he reached for something on the inside.
“Level Four,” Crowley replied. “Just about to enter the treasure room.”
“Got it,” Lovelace said. “Okay… We ready… ?”
“I’m on-line,” Drago said, the arms of his suit windmilling. There was no way to take the actuators for the suits off short of exiting the suit, so when you played a Gameboy in one, the suit arms moved with yours. Drago’s lifted towards his sensor array and paused.
“Watch your grapping arm, man,” Crowley said. “You nearly punched me.”