Day of the Dragonstar (24 page)

Becky grew red in the face. “Has it occurred to you, Ian, that
that
little creature might have been one of the intelligent hatchlings? I might have saved a thinking creature.”

Ian’s expression changed. “Now there’s a thought. What do you think then, Becky? That
could
be the reason why they would lay their eggs out here. Let the newborn fend for themselves. Survival of the fittest. They have to find their way to civilization. Interesting use of the outside wilderness.”

“Well, it gave me a certain amount of satisfaction gunning down that Carnosaur on its tail,” she said, handing the pistol back. “Sorry I was such a bitch about it, but it was something I had to do.”

“Try to restrain yourself next time, though, hey? All the same, perhaps when we get back we can tour the world as Jurassic Annie Oakley and Wild Bill Hickock.”

“Let’s worry about getting back first.”

“Yes, well, the answer lies beyond that wall, so we must push on and—wait a moment. Look yonder! Picnictime for a cannibal, I think! A brother for breakfast!”

Becky turned. Another Carnosaur was slinking in, no doubt attracted by the scent of blood in the air. This one was smaller, perhaps two meters high. It lowered its head and commenced to feast, audibly.

”Fellow wasn’t taught proper table manners!” Ian said. “Chewing with an open mouth! Really!”

A movement at the other end of the clearing attracted Becky’s attention. A bipedal creature strode out, holding a spear.

A spear?

“Ian! Ian, look over there!”

“What
do
you know!” Ian said after a soft whistle.

“Ian, what’s he doing? He can’t possibly kill that thing with only a spear.”

Ian stepped away defensively, hand firm on the butt of his gun. “Steady on! Let’s just
watch
this time. Maybe it’s some kind of rite of passage for young intelligent dinosaurs.”

“What? Getting
eaten?”

“Calm down and watch. This could be very instructive.”

“You must think I’m trigger-happy, Ian!”

“I’m just glad that now I’m in charge of our weapon, that’s all. We can’t—” His attention was suddenly diverted. “I say! What the devil is that bugger doing? It’s
crazy.”

The lizard-man had stepped up lightly to the carnivore, Becky could see, and begun bashing it over the head with the blunt end of his spear. At first the Carnosaur almost ignored the rappings, merely letting go with a warning roar, then returning to its more rewarding feast below. But the fellow repeated his rappings, harder, until the Carnosaur was thoroughly maddened. It hopped up to stand on its hindlegs, took a snap at the lizard-man, then advanced toward him, now determined, no doubt, to rid itself of this nuisance and wolf down an extra tidbit in the bargain.

“Why’s it doing that, Ian?” Becky demanded.

“God knows!”

Then the lizard-man did the
strangest
thing. He spun the spear around in
an apparently ceremonial manner, then flung it. But not at the Carnosaur, Becky saw in astonishment. He hurled it to the side, deep into the forest, where it
could
not be retrieved.

“Ian! Ian, the gun!” she said, “The poor thing will get torn apart.”

“Maybe it’s some sort of ritual suicide, Becky. We want to befriend these creatures, so we don’t want to interfere with any of their ceremonies.”

Then, with a snarl, the Carnosaur attacked, going from a standstill to a sprint in an instant.

The lizard-man stood his ground defiantly, watching the creature charge.

”Oh, Ian, I can’t watch,” Becky said. But somehow she could not unglue her eyes from the sight.

At the last possible moment, the lizard-man stepped aside, somehow avoiding the outstretched claws, the snapping fangs of the Carnosaur. The lithe carnivore pivoted about. In that moment, the lizard-man made his move, pouncing with incredible speed and agility upon his adversary’s back.

The Carnosaur shrieked with fury. It lashed about, trying to bend its head around to bite at its rider. The lizard-man dung with amazing tenaciousness.

Maddened with frustration, the Carnosaur rolled to the ground, turning the struggle into some sort of primeval wrestling match.

Somehow the lizard-man stayed on board.

Becky could see now, though, even through the dust kicking up, that the lizard-man was
doing
something with his own claws.
Digging
into the back of the creature’s neck! Bright blood seeped down from the newly opened wound.

The wrestling went on for a full two minutes, partly on the ground, partly in an upright position, the Carnosaur dashing back and forth Iike a bucking bronco, attempting to unseat its rider.

“Ian! He’s shoved his entire hand into the skin,” Becky said, clutching Ian’s muscular forearm. Why should—”

Suddenly, the Carnosaur halted its run. The rider twisted his hand in a certain manner, and, in fits and starts at first, then in more of a flow, the mount began to trot away; quite tame and docile.

“What did he
do,
Ian?”

“I have no idea.”

“You think we just witnessed some sort of coralling of a wild animal?”

“I don’t know. Seemed much too dangerous for that. You’d think that the lizard-man would have some kind of back-up. Or even, if they’re civilized, simply lasso the creature. No, I think my first guess was right. Some sort of coming-of-age ceremony. A rite of passage. But come on. I presume that now that the creature has been tamed, the lizard-man is taking it to the nearest entrance to the wall. We should follow.”

They discovered the pathway through the foliage that the lizard-man and his new mount had taken followed the footprints through the undergrowth, pushing past fronds and ferns, careful to avoid any large creatures. Plenty of the smaller varieties winged through the air or scrabbled beside the boles of trees. The humid air was full of their rank smell, combined with the odor of rotting vegetation.

When they finally found their way into another clearing, they were confronted with the spectacle of the wall, less than fifty meters away.

They stopped and stared.

At least ten meters high, Becky estimated, and constructed of wooden planks, stone and mortar. Creeper vines covered parts of it. Other stretches were bare. At regular intervals were cupolas—tower-like protrusions—extensions of buttressing sections apparently thicker than the rest of the wall.

“There’s the door, way down there,” Becky said, pointing. A sense of relief flooded through her, almost immediately accompanied by a tingling fear of the mystery hidden by that wall. But it was their only hope for safety from the dangers of the wild behind them.

A movement flashed in one of the roofed towers.

“There’s something up there!” Ian said. He grabbed Becky by her hand, keeping his Magnum up in his other.

Together they walked to the base of the wall, then strode parallel to it, toward where the tower thrust upwards.

Looking upward in wonder, Ian stumbled on a loose stone. It rattled off into a group of bushes.

Suddenly, something leaned over the tower’s side. Its movements were darting with a certain lizard-like gracefulness. Its snout was blunt, with sensitive quivering nostrils that seemed to be taking in their scent. Its head bobbed slowly back and forth as it assessed the intruders . . . a large head, atop a thin tough powerful neck. The creature was standing upright.

And the eyes . . .

Much closer to this one than she’d been to the last, Becky could see that the eyes were obviously capable of stereoscopic vision. As they stared down at her, a thrill sped down Becky’s spine to see how they shone with intelligence.

Then the creature lifted some kind of weapon in its multifingered, obviously articulated hands and pointed it straight down.

The weapon stared at them with tiny beady eyes and began to chitter and squawk.

“STAY VERY STILL,”
Ian Coopersmith said.

“Ian, what do we do now?” Rebecca asked tersely.

“Something, quickly. That’s some kind of weapon he’s got there. Looks as though he’s ready to use it, too.”

They stood in tense silence. Insects droned in the nearby forest. In the near distance, just above what would be the end of this world, water vapor roiled like fog aspiring to become clouds.

The creature at the top of the tower leaned farther over
,
examining the strange intruders with eyes quite large in proportion to his head. The shape of his skull seemed to indicate a large brain.

Rebecca said; “Take off your clothes, Ian. Right now!” She immediately began to unzip her jumpsuit.

“What? Hey, stop. I’m trying to think of a way to communicate with the thing before—”

“Shut up, you jerk,” Rebecca demanded, pushing down the pants, peeling them quickly off. She kicked the clothes away, stood, and stared up to see what the response was.

The creature pulled the weapon slightly back, no longer aiming it. His mouth seemed to drop. A long tongue issued forth, as though tasting their scent. It hissed. His eyes seemed to grow bigger.

“So strip,” Becky said, “and let him see the male of the species.”

Ian Coopersmith quickly removed his clothes. “We should show we’ve no weapons,” he said, holding up his hands, then slowly turning around. Becky followed his example, turning a complete circle.

“Now what?” she asked.

“Hey,” Ian said, “this is
your
strategy. You tell me.”

“We’re still alive, aren’t we?”

“Point taken. Quite a good course of action, actually. I should have thought of it myself.”

“Congratulate me later, okay? I’m still scared witless.”

“We’ve found our intelligent life, anyway,” Ian said. “Let’s just hope they’re not much like humans who shoot first and ask questions later.”

The lizard abruptly, pulled back from the tower’s edge and, disappeared. “You’ve offended it!” Becky said, joking. “Maybe you shouldn’t have taken your clothes off, after all, Ian,”

“Thank goodness Blacks can’t blush.” Ian sighed. “I guess we should just stand and wait.” He collected his jumpsuit, rolled his gun and holster inside it, then tucked it under his arm. “This is the last stop, Becky. We’re playing all our chips on this number. Okay?”

“I’m too tired to say anything but ‘yes.’”

They didn’t have to wait long. Within five minutes, the gate, about one hundred meters to their right, opened. A party of the upright reptiles—some ten in number—issued forth. They strode with a sleek grace, torsos leaning forward, balanced by their tails. As they neared, Becky noted that they carried weapons—spears and wooden swords. Evidently their culture did not use metal. That made sense. There would be no reason for ore deposits in this artificial geology. And the alloy past the soil and on the sides would of course be too hard to chip away.

Becky’s only relief was that none of them carried one of those living weapons. That gave her the creeps.

“Becky, this may sound stupid, but—”

“What, Ian?”

“Would you hold my hand?”

She slipped her palm against Ian’s, and they laced fingers. “You know, Ian, no matter what happens, no matter if we get saved and go our separate ways or what, I want you to know that I love you. First person always.”

Ian sighed deeply and glanced up at the approaching Iizards. “I hope all
this
world loves people in love.”

When the intelligent lizards reached the naked couple, they formed a wary circle around them, brandishing weapons. They buzzed with conversation. Their language appeared to be a combination of hisses, clicks, and gutteral groans.

Ian raised his hand and forced a smile. “Good afternoon. I want to assure you that we’re quite harmless. We need help.”

“Ian, they can’t understand you.”

“True, but they might understand the tone of voice.”

“My God, I feel like an animated version of that picture on the pioneer trip.”

“All we need now is a little Chuck Berry music,” Ian quipped uneasily.

“You know, Ian, they’ve
all
got those little shirts around their torsos. That’s what I noticed about the one in the tower.”

“Women. Always fashion-conscious.”

“No, really. I wonder what it could mean. Clearly they don’t wear it for warmth or protection or modesty.”

“Caste symbol?”

“Could be. Could be it’s just decoration, although it is a rather plain piece of material. Some kind of faded green plant fiber, apparently. The things can’t last long. Look. That one there. He’s pointing at us. Isn’t he the one from the tower?”

“How can you tell?”

“He’s cuter than the rest.”

The reptile was jabbering excitedly, looking from companion to companion as though trying to convince them of something. He seemed not to get the positive response desired.

He ceased his talk, then suddenly stepped forward three paces, directly facing Ian and Becky. With a four-fingered hand, he tugged at his little shirt.

“He’s trying to talk to us,” Becky said. “No. We don’t have any of those shirts. We’re not
like
you,
are we?”

“Now who’s whistling in the dark?” Ian said.

With a hiss of what might have been exasperation, the reptile began to tear his shirt open from the bottom. The others screeched with excitement and immediately began to move in on him, brandishing their weapons. The reptile immediately stopped tearing his shirt and held his hands straight up in the air, performing some kind of complicated sign language above his head. The others immediately relaxed, and reformed their circle.

Becky was puzzled.

Ian said, “Very strange. But I think he wants us to put our clothes back on.”

Becky shrugged, and complied with the suggestion. Great hisses and gasps ensued. Evidently quite pleased with his accomplishment, the lead lizard turned back to his companions, pointing at the couple and chattering away.

“Don’t look now,” said Becky, “but I think that little suggestion just saved our skins.”

Two of the braver reptiles sidled up to Ian and touched him. A long tongue flickered. With a strained smile, Ian held out his hand. “Hello, there, charmer.”

The lizard put the hand in its sharp-toothed mouth and seemed about to bite it, when the lizard leader saw what was going on. He raced up to the offender and knocked him to the ground. The fallen lizard picked himself up, but in so doing managed to snag his little shirt on an exposed root. It ripped off completely.

Weapons were raised. The two reptiles carrying blunt cudgels immediately bludgeoned the offending .lizard, senseless. He lay on the ground, barely breathing, blood leaking from one of his flared nostrils.

“Those shirts appear to be of
great
importance,” Ian said, his nervousness still in his voice. “I suggest we keep ours on from now on. No more strip shows unless specifically instructed—okay, Gypsy Rose Lee?”

“Right.”

The two lizards with the clubs picked their fallen mate up off the ground. They began to drag him back to the gate. The lead lizard made a quick motion with his four-digit hands. Immediately, two lizards apiece flanked Becky and Ian. The lead lizard executed a neat about-face and began to walk forward.

“I think we’ve been invited inside,” said Ian.

“I don’t think it was an invitation,” Becky said.

* * *

As soon as they walked through the gate, the
door was closed and a set of huge logs fitted over its latches. Ian Coopersmith barely noticed. He was too busy examining the cluster of buildings grouped off to the left.

“Evidently, we were lucky enough to stumble upon a city or town of some sort.”

They were hustled forward quickly. All of the scurrying lizards stopped with reptilian suddenness as they caught sight of the new arrivals.

“They rather look like ostriches with outsized skulls, don’t they?” Ian commented as they strode toward the grouping of buildings.

“Sauronithoides,
Ian,” Becky said excitedly. “I thought they looked familiar. There’s been speculation that this kind of dinosaur might have actually developed intelligence if most classes of dinosaurs had not become extinct.”

“I thought they’d all become extinct.”

“No. For example, birds are direct relations to dinosaurs.”

“Well, I guess we’re going to meet the rest of the family. They’re taking us over to the big stone building yonder.”

It was the largest structure of the village, a quonset hut type of building composed of stone and brick and wood. The other houses seemed more like shacks that might have been erected with some sense of alien aesthetics or geometry. To Ian, they just looked ramshackle. Strange tinklings filtered through the air. Exotic and varied scents wafted with the breeze. Some kind of bazaar seemed to be holding forth in what appeared to be a marketplace. Lizards sat behind oddly shaped stalls, engaged in sales and barters. The music of clanks and rattles and whistles was in the air, beside the tastes of charred meat.

“Oh my God, Ian. Look!”

She managed to point, despite the reptilian hands restraining her ann. Beside one of the stalls was a rack. Upon the rack on wooden hooks were hung dead bodies of saurians.

“They’re cannibals,” Ian said. “It follows, doesn’t it?”

“Yes. Reptiles have been known to eat their own kind.”

“You don’t think they’re going to eat
us,
do you?”

“Unlikely. They
are
civilized, and in civilized cultures curiosity tends to outweigh hunger. If they have leaders, I think they’ll want to notify them, if for no other reason than to allow them a look at us before they pop us in the pan.”

“Ian!” she shivered.

“If I wasn’t so fascinated, I’d be scared shitless.”

As they neared the building, a small Iguanodon emerged from its rear, bearing a rider in a saddle that appeared to be part of the beast. The saurian manipulated a series of raised bumps in the back of the Iguanodon’s neck. It stopped in front of the party.

“Incredible,” Ian said. “It looks as though many of the adaptations that the intelligent lizards have made have been biological. I would bet that since they were not able to advance technologically, they’ve concentrated on the biological aspects of progress.”

“Like the living arrow that cutie-pie was pointing at us.”

“Cutie-pie” scrambled forward and began to confer with the creature atop the Iguanodon. After much chatter and arm-waving, the saurian pushed the neck nodes of his beast, and drew the Iguanodon so close to Ian and Becky that they could smell the beast’s bad breath and see the tiny parasitic insects that crawled in the folds of its hide. The saurian leaned over, staring intently at the new arrivals. Nictating eyebrows blinked twice from side to side. Suddenly, it drew back upright in its saddle, and spoke again to the party’s leader, pointing one of its digits at the heavily bolted door of the large building.

“Cutie-pie” barked orders.

Three saurians broke ranks with the party and scurried over to the door, which they proceeded to unlatch. The four saurians in charge of Ian and Becky pulled them forward.

The door swung back. Growls and squawks and hisses issued forth from the dimness within. Becky and Ian were pushed brusquely inside.

Torches shuddered. It smelled musky and dank, of earth and urine and rotting meat. As Ian’s eyes adjusted to the dimness, he saw that the whole place was one large chamber, filled with covered stable-like arrangements of cement and brick.

“It’s like a prison,” Becky said, her voice quivering. “Why are they putting us in a prison?”

“I don’t know,” Ian responded uneasily.

They were hustled forward. From inside the stalls, Ian could hear the scraping of claws, the gnashings of teeth. Guards patrolled each aisle, holding heavy clubs.

“Cutie-pie” strode forward and talked to one guard. The guard stared wide-eyed at the alien arrivals, then motioned for “Cutie-pie” to follow with the “prisoners.” The saurian guard unlatched a door. Wielding his club, he stepped into the darkness. A great din of hissing and growling ensued, abruptly ended by the dull thud of heavy wood against soft flesh. The guard emerged, dragging with it the unconscious body of another saurian. The saurians standing abreast Becky dragged her into the cell.

“Ian!” she cried.

“Nothing I can do,” Ian said. “You’ll be all right.” He sounded as unconvinced as he felt.

After some moments of activity in the cell, the saurians who’d taken Becky inside withdrew. The guard slammed shut the door and latched it.

With no further ado, Ian was shuffled to the adjacent cell. The guard opened the door, and entered. No hisses. No growls. He withdrew and Ian’s saurians took him inside.

The smell was terrible. Offal and straw. Vaguely, Ian could make out bowls of some foul stew in the corner beside a trough of water. Roughly, he was seated in a bed. of straw. Stone manacles were placed over his hands and his feet. They seemed connected by some ultra-strong vines to the wall. The arrangement allowed him some movement—perhaps as far as the food—but not much.