Alien Bounty Read online

  His arguments made sense, but there was still a hard itchy feeling between his shoulder blades as McCade pulled himself over the top and rolled out of sight.

  Moving on hands and knees, McCade hid behind a jumble of rocks, unslung the blast rifle, and flipped the sight to high mag. He swept the weapon from left to right and checked for signs of movement.

  Except for shimmering heat waves and the occasional bird, everything was still. A Fueek bird flapped its way upward to soar against the violet sky. McCade remembered the great Ilwik's love for Fueek birds and decided that this one was a good omen.

  It was suddenly warmer inside his cool suit and McCade turned over to check for damage. Sure enough, there was a four-inch tear just above the right knee. He could feel cool air spilling out when he held his hand over the hole. Damn!

  If he tried to repair the tear, his opponents might break into the open when he wasn't looking. And if he didn't repair the tear, he'd run the very real risk of heat prostration.

  McCade swore under his breath as he opened a pocket on his left sleeve and withdrew a small patch kit. He tore it open with fumbling fingers and spilled precut patches all over the ground.

  Picking up a rectangular patch with one hand he used the other to squeeze bonding material onto its inside surface. The moment the entire thing was covered McCade slapped the patch into place and felt the temperature begin to drop. It worked!

  Then he caught movement from the corner of his eye. Two of the hovering vid cams suddenly jumped upward and spun toward the rocky maze. Someone knew something he didn't.

  Grabbing his blast rifle, McCade rolled over to peer through the sight. One, two, three, wait a minute, yes, there they were, four and five. The suited figures had just emerged from the maze and were working their way up channel toward the open space. They were out of range, but it gave McCade a chance to check out the opposition.

  Number one was a woman. Her shoulder-length black hair swayed around her face as she moved and her weapon was pointed at the ground. She had the point, which suggested a leader, either elected or self-appointed.

  But wait a minute. Look at number two. Was he wrong, or was number two's weapon aimed at number one's back? Number two was a hefty man with a large bald spot and a hard face. What was this? Mutiny? Or something else?

  McCade swept his sight across the other three. There were two men and a woman. As they advanced they were close enough to communicate but too far apart to nail with a single burst. Very cool, very professional. These people knew what they were doing.

  McCade felt the muscle in his left cheek begin to twitch. Okay, three, four, and five were hard bodies who knew one end of a blaster from the other. But what about numbers one and two?

  Maybe two was just a wee bit careless about the way he held his weapon, or maybe there had been a falling out among thieves, or maybe number one was being forced to take the point. She'd draw the first fire and give the others a chance to find cover. If so, then number two was the leader, and a prime target.

  Number one paused at the edge of the open area clearly hesitant to cross it. But number two gave her a shove and she stumbled forward, almost falling before regaining her balance. And number two was right behind her as she ran from one scrap of cover to the next, his weapon centered on her back.

  McCade found himself wishing for a cigar and forced the thought away. It was time to reduce the odds a little. He seated the rifle butt against his right shoulder, flicked the safety off, and centered the sight on a patch of open ground.

  This particular patch was directly in front of number four's position. In order to reach the next rock four would have to pass through it, and when he did, McCade would nail him.

  It would be a simple shot. Energy weapons aren't subject to the effects of wind or gravity as are slug throwers. Of course they don't pack much kinetic energy either, so if you're trying to drop a charging Envo Beast, you might choose something with a little more wallop. But an energy beam does go where you aim it and for this situation the blast rifle was ideal.

  Number four took off like a jackrabbit and ran right into the energy beam. It sliced down through his left shoulder and cut diagonally across his chest. The two halves of his body separated in a bright shower of blood.

  A vid cam swooped down for a better shot as McCade turned his attention to number five. Something winked to the right and fire splashed the rock by his head. Number five was shooting back!

  McCade rolled left as another energy beam screamed through the space he'd just vacated. Number five was a good shot.

  McCade eased the barrel of his weapon through a gap in the rocks, caught a flash of movement, and fired. His energy beam punched a hole through number five's right leg, causing her to stumble and fall.

  Using her hands and one good leg, number five managed to drag herself behind a ledge.

  McCade let her go. Two down and three to go.

  Swinging his weapon left, McCade searched for numbers one and two. He just caught a glimpse of them as they made it to the base of the island. He'd have to stand against the skyline in order to see them and that would provide number three with an opportunity to blow his head off. Where was number three anyway?

  Conscious that numbers one and two were busily climbing his way, McCade moved to the right. If possible he wanted to find three and deal with him before one and two arrived.

  He could feel the seconds ticking away as he quartered the ground below. Each second brought numbers one and two closer and increased the odds against him.

  He was just about to give up when he saw a flash of white toward the top of his scope.

  McCade tilted the rifle down and found his cross hairs centered on number three's back. The bastard was running away! His finger touched the firing stud and stopped. Later he might regret the decision, but McCade couldn't bring himself to shoot a man in the back.

  He turned and was just starting to get up when numbers one and two popped up from behind a jumble of rocks. They were fast!

  Something snatched the blast rifle from his hands and McCade dived sideways hoping to ruin their aim.

  He hit hard and felt rather than saw the bullets that followed along behind. They spanged off the surrounding rocks as he rolled onto his back and felt the slug gun fill his hand. It came up and he saw a white suit fill his sight.

  It was number one! Number two had an arm around one's throat and was using her as a shield! One struggled and two's bullets went wide.

  McCade screamed at her. "Drop, damn you, drop!"

  Number one dropped. McCade felt the slug gun buck in his hand as she did and saw three red flowers blossom down the front of number two's cool suit. Number two staggered, the slug gun flew from his hand, and he fell over backward into a pool of his own blood.

  McCade kept the slug gun centered on number one as he struggled to his feet. He hoped it was over but couldn't be sure. For the first time he noticed that she was very, very pretty, with wide-set brown eyes, a long, straight nose, and a generous mouth.

  Her voice trembled when she spoke. "He took the power pak out of my weapon. Are you going to kill me?"

  McCade bolstered the slug gun and patted his pockets for a cigar. "Not unless you think I should."

  She looked at number two and shuddered. "All of them outranked me so they made me take the point." She paused. "They call me Reba. I'm surprised to be alive."

  McCade found a broken cigar, stuck it between his teeth, and puffed it into life. "I know what you mean, Reba. So am I."

  Nine

  McCade was allowed to rest for one rotation before the next test began. He spent some of his time eating and sleeping and the rest being tutored by Neem.

  Among other things McCade learned that the Il Ronn had fifteen different words for heat. Each one conveyed a slightly different quality of heat, and was associated with a time of day or a type of activity.

  While this kind of complexity made the Il Ronnian language difficult to learn, it also made it extremely
precise and a joy to scientists and poets alike.

  Though not sure what to do with this sort of information, McCade found it interesting and the time passed quickly. Before he knew it the rest period was over and Teeb was leading the way to the next test site.

  The warrior-priest was no longer hostile. If anything, he'd assumed a proprietary air as if McCade were his invention and a rather clever one at that.

  Neem trailed along behind, his tail swishing back and forth in amusement. At this rate they'd have to make room for Teeb at the Institute for Mental Rehabilitation. After all, anyone who liked humans must be crazy.

  Meanwhile, Teeb had continued his conversation with McCade. Although his tone was friendly, the Il Ronnian's eyes glowed like red coals. "Well, human, what did you think of the first test?"

  McCade considered his answer carefully before speaking. "As the great Ilwik once said, 'All things are connected.' In retrospect the test was not entirely physical."

  "Yes!" Teeb responded eagerly. "None of the tests are entirely what they seem. Tell me, how did you pass the test?"

  McCade had already given the matter some thought so his answer was ready. "I passed because of things I didn't do."

  Teeb gave McCade a friendly pat on the back. The impact drove him forward a step and a half. "You amaze me, human! You are correct. You passed because you did not panic, you did not make stupid assumptions, and you did not kill unnecessarily. All virtues of the warrior-priest. But best of all you knew why you did as you did."

  Actually McCade hadn't figured it out until after the test, but since Teeb was so pleased, he saw no reason to straighten the alien out.

  The corridor was long, tubular, and increasingly busy. Many Il Ronnians stopped to stare as McCade and his entourage passed by.

  McCade did his best to ignore them, but found that somewhat difficult when juveniles ran up to pinch him. Most were intercepted by the Sand Sept troopers, but some got through, and it hurt when they pinched him. Fortunately his cool suit absorbed most of the punishment.

  Teeb's long red robe made a soft swishing noise as it dragged along the floor. "During your second test you will play a game called 'Encirclement.' It requires a good memory, an agile mind, and other qualities as well."

  They paused as the Sand Sept troopers intercepted a flying squad of young Il Ronnians before continuing on their way.

  "I want you to know that we have gone to extreme lengths to make the game fair," Teeb said seriously. "Encirclement is something of a passion with many Il Ronnians, and since you have never played before, it took some effort to locate a suitable opponent. I think that is our door just ahead."

  The door was one of many that lined the corridor. Each bore a number and some serpentine Il Ronnian script. McCade tried to open it but was brushed aside by a rather large Sand Sept trooper.

  Moments later the trooper was back, signaling the all-clear with his tail and holding the door open so they could enter.

  McCade followed Teeb into a large circular room. The walls and ceiling radiated a soft violet light, and like every other Il Ronnian room he'd been in, it was hotter than hell.

  A beautiful mosaic covered the floor. Thousands, maybe millions, of stone chips had been used to fashion pictures, each beautiful in itself but part of a much larger whole. Darker stones framed the pictures and went together to form a large grid. And when viewed as a whole the grid formed a desert landscape. And the landscape was filled with Il Ronnian birds, animals, and legendary beasts.

  McCade noticed that a large number of red rocks had been stacked on one side of the room, while an equal number of green rocks had been piled on the other. The rocks were highly polished and of uniform size and shape.

  "Here is your opponent now. Eena, this is the human called McCade."

  McCade turned to find himself looking down into the serious face of a young Il Ronnian female. As far as he could tell the only difference between male Il Ronnians and female Il Ronnians were the colorful sashes the females wore over their loose robes. Apparently the Il Ronnians could tell the difference however, since there were plenty of them.

  "I hope you will not be offended by the fact that Eena is not an adult, but given Encirclement's popularity, it was difficult to locate a suitable opponent. However, Eena is the best player in her hatching and I think she will offer you a sufficient challenge."

  Although Eena was no more than ten cycles old, and came no higher than his waist, McCade saw her eyes glitter with anticipation. She planned to clean his clock.

  McCade bowed his respect. "Greetings, Eena. May you grow and hatch many eggs."

  Eena bowed in return. She spoke Il Ronnian, but the translator pinned to her robe turned it into flawless Standard. "Greetings, human. May you eat feces and die an agonizing death."

  McCade looked at Teeb with a raised eyebrow. "What's the problem? Have I got bad breath or something?"

  The warrior-priest grinned his amusement. "Eena means no disrespect. She is using psychological warfare. She hopes to unnerve you. Such ploys are an accepted part of Encirclement."

  McCade nodded his understanding. "Fair enough. If you'll explain the rules, Shorty and I will get this game off the ground."

  Eena winced at the term "shorty," and McCade grinned. This could be fun.

  Teeb cleared his throat importantly. "Here is how the game of Encirclement is played. You will notice that the floor has been divided into a grid. There are nineteen vertical and nineteen horizontal lines. As a result there are three hundred sixty-one intersections or positions where you can place the stones that are either red or green. Please choose a color."

  McCade looked at the piles of red and green stones and then at Eena. He noticed that her face was carefully neutral. She wanted one color over the other. He took a guess. "I'll take the red stones."

  Eena's mouth turned down into a scowl. Her red sash had given her away.

  "Good," Teeb acknowledged, his tail signaling approval. "The two of you will take turns placing stones, also called warriors, on the intersections where the vertical and horizontal lines meet. Each of you will attempt to encircle as many vacant intersections as possible. When both of you are satisfied that all the potential territory has been taken, you will count the vacant points encircled by your warriors, and subtract the number lost through capture. The individual with the most points wins."

  "Capture?" McCade asked. "How does that work?"

  "A good question," Teeb answered approvingly. "When two or more of your opponent's warriors occupy adjacent positions on a vertical or horizontal line, they are considered a sept and can be captured when encircled by your stones. As long as one of its members adjoins a vacant intersection the sept is free, but when the sept is completely surrounded, it is taken hostage and removed from the board. Understood?"

  "Understood," McCade answered.

  "Excellent," Teeb said approvingly. "In that case I'll leave you to it. Have a good match." Teeb's tail waved good-bye as he headed for the door.

  Neem sidled up to McCade as Eena went over to inspect her stones. Speaking softly he said, "Don't forget to cheat."

  "What?"

  Neem looked around nervously and said it again. "I said, don't forget to cheat. I'm an expert on human culture remember?"

  "Yeah, so?"

  "So many humans disapprove of cheating. We don't. We don't talk about it, but everyone cheats if they can get away with it. So unless you keep an eye on Eena, she'll steal the match out from under you."

  McCade nodded thoughtfully. "Thanks, Neem. I'll keep it in mind."

  Neem left as a swarm of vid cameras entered and took up positions in various parts of the room.

  As one came to hover over his head McCade wondered how many Il Ronnians were watching and whether they were for or against him. According to Neem, McCade had quite a following, liberals mostly, but a scattering of independents as well. Of course, none of them were really rooting for him, they were opposed to war and wanted him to succeed for that reason.<
br />
  "Make your move, human scum."

  McCade turned to find Eena scowling up at him. Her attempts to intimidate him were kind of cute. And even though she'd eventually grow up to look like the devil himself, there was something appealing about her pinched little face and big determined eyes.

  He patted her shoulder. "Thank you, Eena. You're pretty cute for a short person. I'll grab a rock and be right back."

  He headed across the room without waiting for a response and picked up a red rock. For some reason he'd imagined the stones were artificial and therefore lighter than they looked. Nothing could have been further from the truth.

  The stones were real and weighed about twenty-five pounds apiece. Later he'd learn that this particular court had been designed for male grand masters. Most courts were a good deal less fancy, and many Il Ronnians preferred to play on miniature boards or computer terminals. But this was a full-blown traditional court complete with real rocks.

  McCade carried his stone to the middle of the grid, picked an intersection, and plopped it down.

  He saw a look of enormous satisfaction come over Eena's face. The human had placed his first warrior in the middle of the desert! At this rate the ugly alien would beat himself.

  Eena selected one of her own stones, struggled to pick it up, and staggered over to the far corner of the grid where she carefully lowered it into place.

  The stones were way too heavy for her and McCade was tempted to help. But should he give up an advantage? Perhaps the weight of the stones had been factored into the match as part of her handicap. And what if he had to win in order to pass this test? By helping her he might call down a nightmare of destruction on his own kind.

  With those thoughts in mind McCade decided to let Eena fend for herself. Meanwhile he'd do his best to win the match.

  Having analyzed Eena's last move, McCade realized that the corners of the grid were easier to defend than the middle. Like her he would start in the corners and work his way out.

  He selected another stone, placed it in close proximity to Eena's, and stepped back to watch her reaction.