Yet Another Garden Paradise

"Jenna!" Cally's voice rang out sharply across the flight deck. "You'd better have a look at this, quickly."

Jenna rose from nestling with a book cartridge on the yellow couch. Tossing the viewer on the table, she swung herself around to where Cally stood before the detector console. "What is it, Cally?"

"See for yourself." On the readout, the image of the star they were passing wavered slowly, smeared to half again its width. Even as Jenna twisted at the knobs it stretched out more, pulling like taffy across the screen.

"Zen, sensor malfunction. Identify." She tucked her hair behind her ears and began to investigate the controls in earnest, finally managing to stabilize the spreading image. "Zen, what's the problem?"

"External sensors are undamaged. No malfunction located," the computer responded tonelessly.

"Well, check internal, than. Check the focussing array." The smeared image of the star had begun to drift, until it lay directly in their flight path. "Zen, course correction! No, dammit..." and she ran for the pilot's console herself. No change in course was apparent, which meant that the star ought to be where it had been five minutes before. Just to be on the safe side, she changed course by one hundred degrees and headed them out for empty space.

"Circuit checks complete," said Zen. "No malfunction located."

"Cally, get Avon up here. I need him." As Cally moved to obey, Jenna took another look at the sensor readout. As the star fell behind them, just before it faded from the edge of the screen, it shivered and broke, amoeba-like, in two.

#   #   #  

Flat on his back, Avon had been swallowed down to his waist by the open console; bits of circuitry and wiring were spread out around him on the floor. Vila had picked one up to examine, until Avon told him sharply that if it wasn't put back in the exact same place it had been, it might not be possible to reassemble the sensor circuits at all. Vila had hastily, and with excruciating care, replaced the little chip, and then backed away past Blake to the other side of the flight deck, where he watched with wide, frightened eyes.

Jenna stood at the console, calling readings to Avon in response to muffled instructions. "Three...now five, and the second one red. Which switch? Okay, testing now--" There was a sharp snapping sound, and a puff of smoke emerged from beneath the console, followed by a smothered gasp and then by Avon himself, holding his right hand gingerly in his left.

"Are you all right?" asked Cally and Jenna together, and Blake looked concerned.

"In future," enunciated Avon carefully, "I shall endeavor to remember that the oddest-looking things in this ship can carry power." He opened his hand, showing a red weal across two fingers. "However, I have located the trouble." He bent to reach into the opened panel and yank hard at something. "The focussing crystal is flawed." He pulled again; the something came free and he held it up to show them.

It was a crystal, beautifully symmetrical and nearly the size of three fists--or two of poor Gan's, thought Vila to himself. A white crack threaded almost through the center, and a milky stain spread from it through most of the crystal, murkily solid in some places and almost absent in others, where the clear brilliance of the stone shone through.

Avon hefted the gem in one hand. "When I first investigated this system last year," he said conversationally, "you could have read print through this stone as if it were air. My best guess is that some of the near misses we took in that last fight were nearer than we thought; a severe electro-magnetic pulse could have reverberated in the crystal to cause this."

"Can you fix it?" Blake asked, deadpan.

"Fix this?" Avon laughed shortly and set it down. "It should last for a while longer, before it shatters. We need a new one."

"Shouldn't there be one in the stores?" asked Vila. "After all, the ship came fully equipped."

"Zen!" Blake called, still looking at the flawed crystal. "Has Liberator any spare focussing crystals for the sensors?"

"No," came the unexpected reply.

"Why not?" asked Vila accusingly.

"None were provided," Zen said.

"Well, thanks a lot," muttered Vila. Cally had already moved to scrutinize the crystal, rolling it in her hands.

"Blake, I think I know a place where we may be able to buy a replacement." He looked at her inquiringly, and she continued. "There is an independent mining consortium on Kessel. The group I was with on Saurian Major bought crystals from them once, to build a laser cannon. The gems were of good quality, and we had only to be--discreet--about our reason for needing them. I've never seen one like this, but they might be able to provide something."

"It's worth a try. Jenna, lay in a course for Kessel," he ordered, and was surprised when she didn't move. "What's wrong? Have you a better idea? We need that crystal!"

"Exactly," Avon said softly. "We need that crystal. But you've forgotten something, Blake. Kessel is fourteen days away at standard by eight. Long before we reach it, we will be flying...quite blind."

#   #   #  

The five of them sat about the flight deck in varying stages of despondency. Jenna flew with one eye on the pilot's console, one eye on Vila at the blurry sensor arrays, and one eye on Avon still rummaging through circuitry; since this was one eye more than she had, it was quite a strain.

"I don't like this," complained Vila, stationed on watch over the sensors.

"Do you ever?" asked Cally.

"Look at that," Vila went on, pushing a finger at the screen. "That's a double image. But is it a double star? It is not! And how do we know that? Because--" with a flourish, "--if it were a double star, there'd be four of them!"

"Oh, buck up, Vila," Cally advised. "We're in deep space, we're not going to hit anything."

"And what happens when that crystal shatters? Tell me that!"

"We post you on the hull as lookout," said Avon unkindly, straightening up. "Blake, I have stabilized the crystal as much as I can, but it won't hold. Either it remains in the array, where the stress of focussing the sensor beams will shatter it in a few days, or--" he shrugged gracefully, "we throw it out now."

Blake chewed his forefinger absently. "Oh, leave it in, by all means. We might as well use what vision we've got. Jenna, how long to Kessel?"

"Thirteen days, six hours, Blake. Would someone like to give me their best guess on whether that is a sensor ghost, a wandering asteroid, or a pocket black hole?" Vila leapt away from the sensor console as if the black hole might appear and swallow him, and then crept back to peer around Blake's shoulders.

"Looks like a sensor ghost," Blake decided. Vila nodded vehemently. "Might as well go around it, though, Jenna. Just to be safe."

"Right. Awfully silly we could look, though, dodging empty space."

"We'd look sillier plastered across a wandering asteroid," pointed out Cally. "We'd best be as safe as we can, while we can."

"And what will we do when we can't?" asked Vila plaintively.

Avon finished putting his tools away and spoke. "That crystal will fail long before we reach Kessel, Blake; you know that. And regardless of the temptations--" Vila glared at him, which he ignored, "--we cannot fly this ship with only the proximity sensors. It would be far too dangerous at anything over standard by one, which would make us sitting ducks for any patrols in the area. We must find a replacement for that crystal before it fails; one which will at least see us to Kessel."

"Where?"

"I'm working on it. Vila, fetch ORAC." The thief made as if to protest, but seeing that no one paid his open mouth the slightest bit of attention, he put on a pout and left the flight deck.

"We may be able to find a natural crystal with which we could jerry-rig a replacement. It wouldn't have anything like the clarity that ours used to have, but with luck we will be no worse off than we are now. We--" He was cut off as the ship lurched wildly, flinging him into Blake's arms and the pair of them to the floor. Cally caught at the edge of the table and got the breath knocked out of her, and Jenna let out a few words the two dome-bred Alphas had never even heard.

"Jenna, what happened?" Cally exclaimed.

"Sorry. Either I just barely dodged something passing us at--" she glanced at a readout, "--standard by twenty-seven, or the crystal's developed a new quirk. Your replacement had better be no worse than this, Avon," she added grimly, "because this is none too good."

Vila staggered back onto the flight deck, loaded down with ORAC. He dumped it on the central table, then collapsed on the couch and rubbed his leg painfully. "That's an awfully heavy machine, y'know," he remarked. "Especially when it lands on you. Are we going to do that again? Because I'll just go and have a lie down if we are."

"Are you all right?" asked Cally. Gratified, Vila grimaced woefully and assured her, "It's just that it hit me right on an old bruise, you see."

"No doubt acquired when you tripped over your shoelaces," Avon put in.

Vila did not look up from nursing his leg, but sullenly answered, "You know, there's a lot of things I could do with the lock on your bathroom, Avon."

"ORAC," Blake interrupted smoothly, "we need a replacement crystal for the sensor array. Is there anywhere within--" he glanced at Avon, who supplied "two days" "--within two days' travel where we might be able to find one? A rough substitute will do."

"I will check. Kindly wait."

The deck was silent for a moment as they watched the computer's flashing lights, except for Jenna who hadn't the attention to spare. Finally, "I have located a possible source," ORAC announced.

"And? Where is it?" Cally prodded.

"The planet Bailey's Seven has large natural deposits of high-quality quartz. The crystals are located in veins near the surface and can be easily mined by amateurs. I calculate that a quartz crystal of sufficient size, if free of major flaws, would not be an inadequate substitute."

"Zen, travel time to Bailey's Seven at standard by six?" Blake called.

"Twenty-nine hours," Zen responded, and Blake let out a whooshing breath. "Well, that's it, then. Zen, lay in a course for Bailey's Seven, speed standard by six. Cally, why don't you take first shift; let's save Jenna for later in case the crystal we've got doesn't hold up. Vila, stay with her and help keep an eye on the readings."

"You can say that again," said Vila glumly from the sensor console. On the screen, the twinned image of the star shimmered like water droplets, then broke suddenly into four, then eight tiny dancing lights.

#   #   #  

Twenty-nine hours later, they pulled into a parking orbit about Bailey's Seven. At least, they thought they did; the planet danced around a bit. But Jenna swore they were in orbit around something, and Bailey's seemed the likeliest candidate.

They assembled on the flight deck to look at the planet. Jenna swallowed gratefully the relaxant Cally gave her; her eyes felt peeled and scrubbed, she said, and she slumped back in the couch and gingerly worked her cramped shoulders as the others prepared to go down.

"Jenna, put us down and then go and get some rest. We'll hunt up a suitable vein of quartz. Put ORAC on the teleport if you need to." Blake was already handing out guns and power packs when Vila protested.

"Without even checking the surface conditions first? I'm not going down there. Who knows what might be waiting!"

"ORAC said it was perfectly livable, Vila," Cally chided. "Not even cold. You'll be fine."

"Yeah, livable? Livable for who, or what? Zen, show me the surface."

The main viewscreen chimed, and the image of the planet vanished. In its place were rolling green meadows, dotted here and there with soaring trees, in whose limbs brightly colored birds nestled and visibly sang. A few clouds swam idly through the sunlight, and something small and furry, with a black nose and large, limpid eyes, scurried nimbly from the brush a few hundred meters in the apparent distance. Forest shaded the slopes of tall hills on the horizon.

"Well, Vila. Are you satisfied?" Blake did not wait for an answer, but was already heading for the teleport with Jenna. Cally slapped him good-naturedly on the back as she passed him, still blinking with pleased surprise at the screen. Avon stopped at his side.

"I think," he said, "that you will have a hard time complaining about this mission. Still, I know you'll do your best. Come on." He took Vila's arm and led him toward the corridor. But as Vila craned back for one last look at the sunlight shining from the screen, he thought he saw, out of the corner of his eye, something diving impossibly fast from the sky, and the black, twitching nose vanished in a spume of red. He shied in surprise, and Avon pulled him along and off the flight deck.

#   #   #  

The four of them materialized in the center of a meadow like nothing the Terran ex-dome dwellers had ever seen before. The ground was soft and pleasant underfoot, emerald grass brushing their ankles. A butterfly, not in the least disconcerted by their sudden appearance, fluttered before Cally's eyes and landed briefly on her shoulder before discovering business elsewhere. The air was fresh and warm.

Cally stripped off her jacket, turning her arms and face blissfully into the sun. "Blake, this is lovely!"

Avon had given his surroundings a rapid scan upon arrival, and then relaxed. Reholstering his gun, he bent to examine the small blue flower growing by his boot. Touching it to his nose as he straightened, he nodded agreement. "Very nice."

"Why'd you have to go and pick it, Avon?" protested Vila, aggrieved. "Now it'll die!"

Blake laughed. "There's plenty more, Vila. As far as you can see." He stretched his arms wide, feeling the tension crackle and leach out. "I think it could take some time to locate a good crystal, and I don't think I'll mind at all."

A motion caught Vila's eye; a small black nose emerged, twitching, from behind a tree a few meters away. It proved to be attached to an animal not unlike a cat, which crept cautiously out of hiding. It was about the same size, but instead of whiskers it had two tiny antennae almost hidden in the fur before its delicately pointed ears. Its face was a bit narrower than most cats Vila had seen. As it approached him warily, he could see that it had six legs, ending in large, soft pads. Its white fur ruffled slightly, long tail twitching as it considered him.

Delighted, he sank to one knee in the soft sod, holding out his hand and clucking at it. "Here, puss! Aren't you handsome, though?"

The animal took a step forward, then another. Vila held quite still, grinning, as it nosed at his hand, then briefly licked the end of his thumb.

"Making new friends, Vila?"

Vila didn't even look up. "You should try it sometime, Avon. Do you a world of good."

"Avon," said Cally, "what is that?"

He turned to look at her, and followed her pointing finger into the sky. High above them, something circled, growing larger as it spiralled down toward them. Suddenly it plunged, exploding in their faces in a blur of clawed talons, glittering translucent wings, and multi-faceted, insectile eyes. Blake shoved Cally down and dropped frantically beside her; Avon dove and rolled, coming up on his elbow to fire a blast after it as it slingshotted back into the air. The little cat-beast squealed horribly and fled in a frantic six-legged dash.

Vila huddled on the ground, hiding his head in his arms. "Is it gone?" he whispered after a moment.

Avon was flat on his back, gun raised in both hands as he scanned above him. The monster-fly was nowhere in sight; the sky was blue and quite empty. Reholstering his gun, he swung to his feet again and offered Cally a hand up. "Yes, it's gone." Blake brushed his knees off and clapped Vila on the shoulder; the thief looked up timidly.

"Not quite a garden paradise after all, Vila. Your little friend's got some enemies."

"You can say that again." Vila shuddered. He'd never liked bugs, even little ones. Bugs nearly a meter long that flew, he definitely didn't like. He thought of the little cat-beast, ripped into a blood-stained rag of fur by those claws. "Maybe we can take him with us, eh?" he suggested.

"Take him with us, Vila?" Cally was confused. "Not that flying monster!"

"No, no, the little cat-guy. I made friends with him; I can't leave him to that horrible thing, now can I? Besides, Cally, you've got a pet, why shouldn't I have one?" He grinned sideways at her. "It could use your moon-disc's box for a litterbox, what d'you say?"

"Not on your life, Vila!" she cried, swiping at him; he laughed and dodged away and she chased him, laughing too. They ran after each other over the grass, he playing at hiding behind Blake until the burly man pushed him away, saying with a smile, "Oh no, Vila; fight your own battle on this one!" Cally lunged at him and he tripped and fell face down in the grass; before he could roll over she was on him, a knee pressing into his back and his wrists clamped over his head.

"Give up?" she panted above him.

Vila writhed futilely. "Yes, all right! I'll leave your moon-disc alone, I promise!"

"And your little pet, too?" she prodded.

"Oof! Yes, him too. Can I get up now?"

The weight left his back and he picked himself up, Cally and Blake both laughing at him as he felt his wrists and back carefully for damage. "If you've settled that," said Blake genially, "shall we move on? We do have a somewhat pressing reason for being here."

"We won't find a good vein of quartz in this lawn," pointed out Avon. "We need to find a more rocky area, probably in those hills." He gestured toward the wooded slopes a few miles away. "Besides," he added, "I wouldn't mind getting under some cover. That--fly--came down rather quickly."

"All right, then, let's go." Blake led them at a comfortable pace across the meadows. Even Vila, normally a loud protestor of any kind of exercise, enjoyed the walk. He kept one eye tilted up, watching for dive-bombing bugs; the rest of his attention went toward scanning around him, hoping to see the little cat-beast again.

#   #   #  

In a little over an hour they were in the outskirts of the wood. The ground had begun to slope upward noticeably, and once or twice they actually had to scramble up a rise, using their hands to help themselves along. Vila had begun to breathe a little louder, but a sharp look from Cally silenced any protest he might have made. She knew he had been skipping the regular exercise she prescribed, and he knew she knew it.

They were in the wood itself now, the sunlight broken and patterned by many-colored leaves which threw stained-glass shadows on their clothing. A few birds chirped inquiringly as they went by, and undergrowth occasionally caught at their feet. A soft mulch of fallen leaves cushioned their steps.

A fallen tree blocked their way. Blake, in the lead, looked down its length for a moment, noting the thicket of roots at the end, nearly as tall as he was. He shrugged and prepared to vault over the trunk, when Vila hissed at him, "Blake, wait!"

He froze, glancing quickly around to find the danger. But it couldn't be too dangerous, because Vila was creeping slowly forward, his hand held out and a smile spreading across his face. A few meters from Blake, a cat-beast balanced on the treetrunk, eyeing him curiously.

"Here, you," murmured Vila reassuringly. "You know me, I won't hurt you, right? Come on, there's a love..."

"It is hardly likely," said Avon softly, "that this is the same animal."

"Yes, it is," countered Vila just as softly, without taking his eyes off the narrow head cocked to watch him. "I recognize that little scar, there, on its leg. Come on, you, come to papa." The cat-beast padded slowly toward him, tail twitching high in the air. Vila held quite still as it rubbed luxuriously along his arm and reached up to bat at his face with one soft paw. He gathered it into his arms and it condescended to be lifted off the tree and held lovingly to his chest.

"Obviously a species of little intelligence," said Avon snidely.

"You're just jealous. Besides, cats are very intelligent, Avon." Vila nuzzled at the animal, and it licked his chin.

"That is not a cat."

"It's close enough for me. I like it, alright?"

Avon cut off his reply at a loud rustling noise in the trees above their heads. They looked up; Cally gasped and Avon's hand flashed to his weapon. On a low limb, less than a meter above them, stretched another frightful monster. Not a bug this time, at least; it appeared mostly feline, like the cat-beast now huddling in Vila's arms and spitting furiously. It was over two meters long, ropes of muscle under sleek brown fur tapering to a tail that ended in a cruel barbed sting, poison dripping from its tip. The head was the worst: like a parody of a human face but horribly wrong, with no nose, eyes too close together, and a curling beard-like growth that began high on the cheekbones and spread down its throat to merge with the fur on its chest. The six paws shifted slightly on the branch as it regarded them maliciously, gripping the bark with claws as long as a finger.

The cat-beast hissed and growled, baring little needle-teeth. Vila tried to calm it, but it struggled, tearing at his shirt with its claws and scraping his protective arm. Startled, he let go and it leapt away and vanished into the underbrush. None of the others spared it a glance, their eyes fixed on the yellow eyes above them.

"What is it?" Cally breathed.

"Like nothing I've ever seen before," Blake answered carefully. "It could almost be a manticore; I saw a picture once."

"A what?"

"A beast out of Earth's mythology," supplied Avon, sighting down his gun at the venomous animal, its tail lashing slowly. "Reputed to have the head of a man, the body of a lion, and the tail of a scorpion--a stinging insect," he elaborated further. None of them moved, waiting.

The manticore eyed them a moment longer, then turned and leapt up, vanishing into the tangle of branches. When it was definitely gone, Vila sighed and slumped onto the trunk of the tree Blake still straddled. "I don't think it's going to be hard to find things to complain about," he muttered under his breath, "not hard at all."

#   #   #  

Several hours later they had tramped through quite a bit of forest and examined three rocky places, but though they had found quartz, they had not found anything like the size or quality of crystal they needed. They had not seen the manticore again, or any other animals at all; even the cat-beast was gone, much to Vila's sorrow. Dusk was falling, though the air was as warm and pleasant as ever, when they found themselves in a small clearing near the summit of a low hill. The setting sun spread a red and purple light over the trees, whose yellow, green, and blue leaves added to the colors.

Cally sat down on a moss-covered rock and worked her left boot off, groaning in pleasure as she pulled her foot free. "Blisters, Cally?" asked Avon.

"No, just sore feet. Ahh!" She ground a thumb into the arch of her foot, massaging hard. Vila thumped to the ground beside her and pulled off his own boots, wriggling his toes in relief.

"You know," said Blake, returning from a circuit of the clearing, "I wouldn't mind spending the night here. It's so rare to have a chance to get off the ship, and out in the open like this, it's just wonderful."

"With the manticores around, Blake? Are you serious?" Vila looked up at him, wide-eyed.

"We only saw the one, Vila, and it didn't bother us. If we set a watch, we should be quite safe. Besides, maybe your pet will come back."

"It is an unnecessary risk, Blake," remarked Avon.

"Does that mean you don't want to?"

"I didn't say that. I merely point out the fact." He got up to circle the clearing, peering between the trees into the woods. "As you say, setting a watch should be sufficient. After all," and he smiled slightly, "just being with you is a risk."

"An unnecessary one?" asked Blake, nettled. Avon didn't answer.

"I agree with Blake," Cally said. "I'd love to stay here. I'll even take the midnight watch, Vila, so don't worry, you can sleep through. What about it?" She looked around at them. Avon nodded slightly, and Blake already wore a broad smile. Vila looked from one to the other, and then shrugged and broke into a grin.

"What the hell. As long as someone goes back up and gets some blankets. And supper! And you promised, Cally; I want the last watch!"

It was quickly arranged. Jenna brought Blake and Cally up to collect sleeping gear and food, as well as a tinderbox to start a fire. Avon and Vila, meanwhile, scouted the area and removed a few stones from the ground, using them to build a small firepit in the center of the clearing. When the fire was lit and crackling cheerily, all four gathered in front of it and opened up the food. Hungry after a day of unaccustomed exercise, they made a thorough job of it.

Sprawled happily before the embers, Vila smeared a piece of bread with an unfamiliar paste and bit into it. Not all of the foods Liberator had been designed to provide were palatable for humans, but some were downright delicious, and this thick brown spread was one of them. He didn't want to know what was in it, although it tasted rather like meat, with some alien spice or other. Licking a little extra off his fingers, he was happy just to appreciate it.

Avon swallowed the last of his fruit juice and replaced the glass in the basket Cally had brought down. Wiping his hands on a towel, he turned away from the fire for a moment, and then stilled, watching. "Vila," he said softly, "look."

Vila rolled over and sat up to see. Avon gestured with his head at the edge of the clearing. Nightblind from staring at the flame, Vila squinted and made out two small eyes, glass-bright, regarding him. One winked. Then they moved forward, and the cat-beast padded regally into the firelight.

"Well, hello!" Vila exclaimed quietly, delighted. "Welcome back!"

The little animal spared Avon one haughty glance, and then went past him to curl up at Vila's side. He stroked it and it licked at his finger, then nipped lightly.

"Hey! Are you hungry, eh?" He picked up his piece of bread with the meat-paste spread on it and offered it to the cat-beast. It sniffed carefully, then bared its teeth and tore off a little piece. Swallowing neatly, it considered the taste, then turned away to roll up against Vila's leg.

"No, huh? All right." He glanced at the bit of bread, then shrugged and tossed it in the fire, where it sent up a handful of sparks. Cally and Blake were watching him amusedly.

"Looks like you really have made a friend, Vila," commented Blake. "If you want to keep it, though, you'd better find out what it does eat."

"Zen'll come up with something," Vila answered confidently. The others were spreading out blanket rolls on the ground; he got up and fetched his as well. The cat-beast lay on its side, watching him sleepily as he stripped down to underwear and slid under the cover. On either side of him, Avon and Cally were doing the same, while Blake banked the fire and settled down for first watch. Vila fell asleep to the feel of the narrow face pushing into the crook of his elbow. His last thought was, "What can I name it, I wonder?"

#   #   #  

Cally woke Avon for the third watch and crawled thankfully back into the blankets Blake had woken her from, a few hours before. Avon pulled on his pants, then splashed his face with a little water and drank some, washing the sleep from his head, and wandered the circumference of the clearing before settling back down. He added a few sticks, gathered earlier that evening, to the fire, and then sat with his back to it, watching the night.

It was so peaceful as to be almost boring. He rounded the clearing again, humming a little to himself in the privacy of the darkness. The only other sound was the even breathing of the sleepers, and a slight rush of wind in the trees. He wished briefly for a notepad and penlight, and considered calling ORAC to bring him up to fetch them. He could get a little work done while he sat. But the dim placidity of the night seemed to reproach the thought, and he gave it up to relax, resting his chin on his knees and letting his thoughts wander where they would.

Time passed, as it always did. He guessed that he could wake Vila in another half-hour or so, but resisted the temptation to check his watch. Cally murmured and tossed restlessly, and he turned to her. She had thrown the blanket off, and was curled tightly around herself. Gently, he lifted the blanket and tucked it around her, then circled the fire to look at the others. Blake sprawled on his back, snoring lightly. Vila lay on his side, right arm outflung; the cat-beast's head nuzzled at the shadows in his hand.

Avon almost turned away, then looked again. Vila was facing the fire, and its light flickered clearly over his arm and chest. There should be no shadows on his hand, not there. He took a step forward, and the cat-beast hissed softly and looked up. The fur of its face was smeared with blood.

"Vila!" he shouted, diving forward. The little animal sank its teeth back into Vila's wrist as he grabbed it, and he could not wrench it away for fear of ripping the flesh apart. He tried to pry its jaws open. "Vila, wake up! WAKE UP!"

Vila sat up blurrily and tried to lift his hands to his face. The weight of the animal dragged on his arm; he looked down at it, at Avon's frantic hands around it, and screamed shrilly. Suddenly beside him, Blake snatched a stick from the fire and jammed the coals against the cat-beast's side. They choked on the stench of burning hair; the beast let go of Vila's arm to writhe and slash at Avon's hands with its teeth, and he dropped it in pain. It dove between their legs and vanished into the night.

Blake threw the brand down and grabbed Vila's arm. The thief was still screaming, and blood flowed from his wrist, darkly liquid in the firelight. "Vila, hush! Let me see how bad it is! Cally!" He pressed the towel she thrust at him to the wound; it soaked through quickly and he added another. Avon was rapidly clipping bracelets to their wrists as they tried to stanch the bleeding, and then yelling for teleport. Around them, the clearing dissolved into the ship's teleport bay.

Cally and Blake hauled Vila to his feet and ran him, half-stumbling, down the corridor toward the medical unit. Lowering him onto a couch, they bared the wound, wiping away the welling blood as fast as they could. It was not large but deep, several punctures with the skin and flesh torn between them, and the blood wouldn't stop. Vila was no longer screaming, but lay shivering and pale, breathing shallowly, his frightened eyes going from his arm to the faces working over him and back again.

"It's not arterial. It ought to be stopping," muttered Cally, pressing a clean bandage over the wound and wincing as it too grew sodden with bright blood. "Damn!"

"It was the animal. Vila's pet," said Avon, looking over her shoulder. "There may be an anticoagulant in its saliva." Vila went green, and Blake took his good hand and held it.

"Then we'll have to wash it clean," Cally said. "Hold on, Vila, this is going to sting." She reached for a vial of yellow antiseptic solution and poured it carefully over the punctures, while Avon held the arm still. Vila's eyes widened, but he didn't move. Cally rubbed the cleanser into the wounds with her fingertips, and sighed with relief as the bleeding finally slowed. "That's got it. Sorry, Vila."

"I didn't feel it, Cally," Vila whispered faintly, sounding scared and sick. "I can't--I can't feel anything below my elbow."

"A natural anesthetic, too," said Avon, handing Cally fresh wipes as she cleaned the blood and yellow fluid from Vila's arm. "That would explain why you didn't wake when it bit you. Your little friend is quite a surprise, Vila."

Cally was fixing a pad of bandage, taping it over his wrist. "I don't think it needs stitches, Vila; there's some good news for you, no needles. We'll run the tissue regenerator when you're steadier; it's too much of a drain on your system just now. Avon, hook up the diagnostic computer and let's see what we can find out about the anesthetic effect."

The anesthetic turned out to be temporary, to Vila's initial relief and then dismay when the pain came in full force. Cally gave him a shot which numbed it somewhat, but it still throbbed angrily. Worse than the pain, though, was the remembered sight of the little animal all but hanging by its teeth from his arm, his blood running from its mouth. It made him queasy to think about, and he could hardly stop thinking about it.

The others went to shower and dress, though one was in the medical unit with him at all times. Blake went to wake Jenna and tell her what had happened. She came by to see him and also to pick up a headache remedy; she was not yet recovered from the grueling hours spent flying with sensors which seemed to take a malicious glee in lying to her. Swallowing the pills with a grimace, she pulled a chair up beside him. "Bad choice of friends, I hear, Vila."

"Yeah." The pain in his arm had faded to a dull throbbing. Blake came in, freshly shaved and in clean clothes, and bent to examine the wound.

"Feeling better now? Good. We'll run the regenerator on you, then, and go back down in an hour or so."

"Back down?" Vila flinched a little. "I don't want to go back there, Blake. It isn't safe!"

"It isn't safe anywhere for us, Vila. And especially not without sensors, or had you forgotten? We need that crystal." He tossed a robe at the thief, who reluctantly sat up and pulled it on. Blake brought the regenerator module over and undid the bandage to run it over the bruised flesh. After a few minutes he brushed the ugly scab away to show pink new skin, thin and tender. Vila's face had paled a little, and he leaned on Blake as the bigger man helped him out of bed.

"There," Blake said. "Go and have something to eat; you need it after that. When you're rested and cleaned up, we'll go after that quartz."

"You're sure you need me?" Vila asked dolefully, and shuffled out without waiting for an answer.

Cally and Avon passed him as they came into the medical unit. Vila only groaned in answer to Cally's "How are you?", and made his way down the hall toward his cabin. Cally turned to look inquiringly at Blake, who was putting away the regenerator and cleaning up the couch Vila had lain on.

"He's fine," said Blake. "We'll go back down as soon as he's ready. I want to get that crystal today; we've spent enough time here."

"Need he come with us, Blake?" asked Cally. "He is badly upset, and with good reason. Perhaps he should stay here with Jenna."

"No," said Blake decisively. "It's like falling off a horse, Cally; he's got to go back. He isn't half so afraid as he pretends."

"He could hardly be," said Avon dryly. "Besides, we need him. None of us have mined quartz before, but his vision is better than ours; he found two of the deposits yesterday."

"Well, I'd be no good at all, then," said Jenna, pushing herself up from her chair. "Right now all I can see is a dark cabin and a cold compress. Good luck, Blake." She nodded to the others and headed out.

#   #   #  

In a little over an hour the four of them teleported back down to the clearing they had left that morning. Vila looked warily around, but the cat-beast was gone. Their supplies had been brought back to the ship earlier; Blake kicked dirt over the last embers of the fire and headed them into the woods again.

The area was rockier here, and the trees began to thin out, unable to dig their roots deeply enough into the hostile ground. A tumble of boulders looked promising, but after a few minutes of exploratory prodding, what had seemed to be a large crystal turned out to be only a double handful of shards, shattered by weather and an old rockfall. Blake leaned against the rock and shut his eyes momentarily. "Damn." Then Cally choked on a gasp and he heard Avon's gun rattle from its sheath, and he snapped his eyes open again. One of the monster-flies was settling on the rock by his head.

He froze. Out of the corner of his eye he could see Avon cautiously circling, trying to get Blake out from between himself and the huge insect. "When I shout," Avon muttered without sparing him a glance, "drop. Fast."

"You speak!"

Blake spent a full second looking for the owner of the voice before he realized that it was coming from right above his head. The bug tilted its bulbous eye toward Avon, frozen in a half-crouch with his gun raised. "You speak!" it said again. "We did not know you spoke. Hello!" Its voice was harsh and clattering, but quite understandable.

Very carefully, Blake stepped away from the rock, backing up until he was a full two meters from those barbed legs. He could see the insect more clearly now, but that wasn't why he had moved.

"Yes, we speak," said Avon. His gun didn't move. "What of it?"

"You are visitors! Hello! Can we help?" It made a quick washing gesture with its forelegs, rubbing them rapidly together. Blake straightened, aware of Vila quivering next to Cally, behind him.

"Who are you?" he asked. Most alien life in the galaxy was humanoid; Cally was a good example. He'd never heard of intelligent insects, let alone ones that spoke Galactic Standard.

"We...are." The bug chittered for a moment. "You are visitors. Can we help?"

Cally pushed forward a little. "We are looking for quartz crystals," she said.

"Quartz?" The translucent wings fluttered uncertainly.

Very carefully, Cally stepped toward the boulder. Avon moved to one side, keeping a clear field of fire. "Careful," he warned tonelessly.

Cally lifted one of the chips they had dislodged and held it up. "This is quartz. Only we need a large crystal." She indicated the size with her hands.

The insect buzzed for a moment, then lifted from the rock and swooped in a tight, fast circle over their heads. Vila cringed and Avon's gun twitched, but Cally's voice sounded in his head. *No. Wait.*

It circled for a moment, then settled back on the rock. "We will find it!" it announced. Its forelegs rubbed together with a slight scraping sound. "Follow us!" And it flew up again, circling once and then whipping away at an angle to their path.

Vila reeled and caught at Blake's arm. "I don't like bugs," he muttered. His eyes were squeezed shut and his face had a greenish pallor. "I never did, not at all...Blake, let's leave. Please!"

Cally put a hand on his shoulder. "It's all right, Vila. It wants to help us, you heard it."

He shivered. "Yeah. 'We', it said. How many do you suppose there are?"

Avon joined them, reholstering his gun. "Insects are generally hive creatures. It may not have a singular pronoun." He looked at the hand clutching Blake's arm, and then at Blake's face. "Do we trust it?"

Blake gently unwound Vila's fingers from his sleeve. "We may have to. We haven't had much luck yet, and if we don't find a crystal soon ours will shatter and we'll be in real trouble. Cally, what do you think?"

She turned to look after the vanished monster. "It's all right, I think. I didn't feel much; it's more alien than anything I've ever encountered. I think Avon's right; it is a hive creature. But it has no wish to harm us."

"All right, then." Blake raised his voice slightly. "We'll follow it. It's a native, after all; it can probably find what we need faster than we could."

"I don't believe it!" Vila cried. "You're going to trust us to the word of that--that bug? Suppose it's a giant mosquito and it's hungry, eh?"

"It is not a mosquito," said Avon amusedly. "It looks rather more like a Terran fly; ugly, but harmless. Come on." He and Blake set out in the direction the insect had gone, Cally right behind them. Vila trailed miserably in the rear. Damn Alphas never saw maggots laid in a suppurating wound, he thought, and shuddered.

#   #   #  

They followed the insect for several hours. The ground was rockier still, bare except for the occasional grimly tenacious bush. Boulders taller than any of them were tumbled together in untidy piles. Many bore quartz, but the largest crystal they found was barely half the size they needed. The fly buzzed about their heads, calling half-intelligible encouragement and urging them on before vanishing ahead again. Tired after the interrupted night, they straggled apart, plodding over the hostile ground.

Once they saw the cat-beast, watching warily from a distance. It flicked its tail and was gone even as Avon whipped his gun up. Vila fingered the new skin on his wrist, and turned to watch the place it had stood until his walking took it out of sight.

In the lead, Blake slumped onto a conveniently knee-high rock to rest. Out from the shade of the trees it was hot, and he wiped the stinging sweat from his eyes with one hand. Avon came wearily up and stood over him, his hair dark with sweat.

"Well, Blake?" he said, and waited.

"Well, we don't have much of a choice," Blake snapped, and then immediately regretted it. "I'm sorry. It's the heat. We've got to find a crystal, Avon. And we've had better luck following it than we did on our own."

"Although we do not know where it is leading us."

Cally was approaching, dark patches staining her brown shirt. "We should have brought a canteen," she said, sitting heavily on the ground by Blake's knee. "Rest break?"

Blake nodded. "I should think Vila would be glad of it." He squinted into the distance. "Where is he?" He peered and made out a figure, half-hidden by the wavering of the hot air. "Coming along, I guess."

Then the figure staggered and went to its knees. Cally shouted wordlessly and was up and running even before Vila toppled to the ground, the men pounding behind her. It seemed ages before they reached him, lying pale and still, face down and one hand vaguely outstretched. Quick and gentle, Cally turned him over, laying her palm against his forehead.

"Sunstroke, Cally?" Blake bent beside her.

Cally's eyes were wide and distant, straining with some agonized effort. "No," she ground out, "not...find the cat. Find it!" Both hands pressed flat to Vila's face, she bent over him, her hair falling forward. *Kill it,* she sent, her voice strangely muffled and faint in their heads.

Avon whipped out his gun, turning to scan the ground. Blake moved out and away, circling with his weapon ready. He heard Cally pull in a long ragged breath, and then another. Avon's careful steps sounded behind him as the technician rapidly, and with great care, covered the ground.

Then a flash of white caught his eye. Half-hidden in a scrubby bush, two black eyes stared from a narrow face. The cat bared its needle-fangs at him. "Avon," he whispered, and knew the other man had heard.

Very carefully, he raised his gun. The cat-beast watched with quiet malice as the weapon lifted, until just as he fired it dove away. Avon's blast caught it as it dodged, splattering bloody scraps of fur across the ground. The six legs twitched briefly and were still.

Vila groaned, and they turned to see him sitting painfully upright, supported by Cally. Her face was pale, and a lip bled where she had bitten it. "Wha--what happened? I fell asleep..."

"No, you didn't," said Cally, and swayed suddenly, nearly toppling both of them. Avon held her shoulder as Blake helped Vila to his feet, and after a moment Cally pulled herself up on Avon's arm. "It was telepathic."

"Telepathic?" echoed Avon, and nodded toward the little corpse. "The animal?"

"Yes. Vila, it was...invading you, somehow. Wiping your mind away. It would have killed you."

Vila paled. "You mean to say that it was eating my brain?" One hand rose to touch his forehead gingerly, but stopped half-way as he caught sight of the pinkish skin at his wrist. "After all," he muttered, "it had a go at the rest of me." He shuddered.

"Are you all right?" asked Blake. Vila made a careful inspection of himself and was about to allow as how he might be, but that rest and tender care couldn't hurt, when the fly reappeared, buzzing excitedly.

"Quartz! Big quartz!" it chittered, looping around their heads. When none of them looked up immediately, it lowered to hover before Vila. "Hurt, you?"

"No!" Vila answered hurriedly, flinching. There were only so many things you could expect a man to take in a day, and solicitous meter-long flies went beyond the limit. He scrambled back a pace. "No, I'm fine."

"In that case," said Avon, smoothly reholstering his gun, "shall we see what our friend has found?" Blake looked inquiringly at Vila and Cally. Cally nodded.

"Yes. The sooner we're off this planet, the better."

"I couldn't agree more," said Vila.

#   #   #  

The fly led them to the base of a steep cliffside. Plainly visible in the sheared-off rock were veins of quartz, running up and sideways and intersecting in nodes as big as a man's head. Blake cried out in pleasure. "This is exactly what we need!"

The fly buzzed anxiously overhead. "Happy, you? We helped?"

"Yes, yes, this is perfect. Avon, fetch the gear, will you?" They had left mining tools on board the ship until they should be needed; now Avon raised one eyebrow and spoke coolly into his bracelet. Jenna answered, and in a moment Avon's outline went white and exploded into nothing, accompanied by the familiar eerie whine.

Cally and Vila joined Blake at the rock wall, probing with fingers and a thin, sharp lockpick Vila produced from somewhere. The crystal was solid and almost flawless. Avon reappeared behind them and moved in to set up the equipment.

To get a sizable crystal out without cracking it required considerable delicacy, even with the specialized mining tools Avon, with ORAC's help, had produced on the way to Bailey's. Even so, it hardly seemed as though any time had passed before Avon held two large, clear stones in his hands. One was slightly less symmetrical than the other, but the second bore a hair-thin white crack through one face. Both were of sufficient size, and Blake declared himself satisfied.

"It's better than what we've got, anyway. Either of those should see us to Kessel, and we'll get a real replacement there. Let's get back." He turned to the huge fly. "Um...thanks." It didn't acknowledge him, but lifted to swoop once in a great circle before heading away along the edge of the cliff. He shrugged and began to raise his wrist; Vila's voice called for teleport before he could finish the motion. The cliff vanished behind sudden whiteness.

#   #   #  

Within a few hours they were on their way to Kessel. The multiple images on the screens had been reduced to double, which as Jenna said was at least an improvement. "After getting here on the old crystal, I could fly this with one eye shut. In fact," she added wryly, "it might help."

Vila was nursing a tall glass of something with a vile green color, with apparent relish. Blake hadn't the heart to call him to task for drinking on the flight deck. The thief had been through a lot. "Think of it this way, Jenna," he offered with alcoholic cheeriness, "the galaxy's gone stereo!"

"It's a shame about that animal, though," said Cally. "It really was rather adorable for a while, before it developed a taste for Vila."

"Only after he developed a taste for it," answered Avon. "How about it, Vila? Do you miss your erstwhile pet?"

The thief shuddered. "The next pet I get," he announced with awful solemnity, "will be the very farthest thing from adorable. It will have fangs, and gills, and--and ooze slime as it goes. Then maybe I'll be safe. But, Avon..." He looked up, and the technician, mildly surprised, met his glance. "Yes?"

"I'll let you litter-train it," said Vila, and grinned.