Noon: 22nd Century

Noon: 22nd Century-4

You didn’t even think to get a rifle at the base, i***t! We’d be in fine shape now without the Pathfinders, Of course, there was no time to think of rifles. And even now I should think about something elseabout what will happen when we get to the biostation. That’s more important. Right now that’s the most important thing period, the most important thing of all.It always attacks from the right, thought Mandel. Everyone says it attacks only from the right. No one knows why. And no one knows why it attacks at all. It’s as though for the past million years it had done nothing except to attack from the right those people who were careless enough to set off from the base on foot at night. You can understand why it’s the ones away from the base. You can imagine why it’s at night. But why people, and why from the right? Could there really have been Martian bipeds who were more vulnerable on the right than on the left? Then where are they? In five years of colonization on Mars we haven’t encountered one animal here bigger than a mimicrodon. At least until it appeared, two months ago. Eight attacks in two months. And no one here has got a good look at it—it attacks only at night. I wonder what it is. Khlebnikov had his right lung ripped out—they had to give him an artificial lung and two ribs. Judging by the wound, it has an unusually complex mouth mechanism. At least eight maxillae with incisor blades sharp as razors. Khlebnikov remembers only a long shining body with straight hair. It jumped him from behind a dune maybe thirty paces away. Mandel glanced quickly to both sides. There the two of us would be, walking along. I wonder, does Novago know how to shoot? Probably—for a long time he worked with the geologists in the taiga. He had a good idea there about the centrifuge. Seven or eight hours a day of normal weight should be quite enough for the little guy. Though come to think of it, why should it be a boy? What if it’s a girl? All the better—girls can stand variations from the norm better.

always attacks from the right, Everyone says attacks only from the right. No one knows why. And no one knows why attacks at all. It’s as though for the past million years had done nothing except to attack from the right those people who were careless enough to set off from the base on foot at night. You can understand why it’s the ones away from the base. You can imagine why it’s at night. But why people, and why from the right? Could there really have been Martian bipeds who were more vulnerable on the right than on the left? Then where are they? In five years of colonization on Mars we haven’t encountered one animal here bigger than a mimicrodon. At least until appeared, two months ago. Eight attacks in two months. And no one here has got a good look at itit attacks only at night. I wonder what it is. Khlebnikov had his right lung ripped outthey had to give him an artificial lung and two ribs. Judging by the wound, has an unusually complex mouth mechanism. At least eight maxillae with incisor blades sharp as razors. Khlebnikov remembers only a long shining body with straight hair. jumped him from behind a dune maybe thirty paces away. There the two of us would be, walking along. I wonder, does Novago know how to shoot? Probably—for a long time he worked with the geologists in the taiga. He had a good idea there about the centrifuge. Seven or eight hours a day of normal weight should be quite enough for the little guy. Though come to think of it, why should it be a boy? What if it’s a girl? All the better—girls can stand variations from the norm better.They had left the valley and the salt patches behind. To the right stretched long narrow trenches, and pyramidlike piles of

sand. In one of the trenches stood an excavator, its bucket drooping despondently.

We should get the excavator out of here, Opanasenko thought. What is it standing around here for? Soon the storm season starts. Maybe Vll take it myself on the way back. Too bad it’s so slow—less than a kilometer an hour on the dunes. Otherwise it would be just the thing. My legs ache. Morgan and I have covered around fifty kilometers today. They 7/ be worried at the camp. Well, we’ll send a radiogram from the biostation. There must really be an uproar at the biostation by now! Poor Slavin. But still, it’s great. There 7/ be a kid on Mars! So someday there ‘11 be people who will say, “I was born on Mars. “If only we’re not too late. Opanasenko started walking faster. And these doctors!Doctors think rules are made for other people. Good thing we met them. It’s clear that at the base they have no idea of what the desert is like at night. It would be a good idea to organize a patrol, or even better, a full-scale hunt. Use every crawler and rover the base has.

We should get the excavator out of here, What is it standing around here for? Soon the storm season starts. Maybe Vll take it myself on the way back. Too bad it’s so slowless than a kilometer an hour on the dunes. Otherwise it would be just the thing. My legs ache. Morgan and I have covered around fifty kilometers today. They be worried at the camp. Well, we’ll send a radiogram from the biostation. There must really be an uproar at the biostation by now! Poor Slavin. But still, it’s great. There be a kid on Mars! So someday there ‘11 be people who will say, “I was born on Mars. “If only we’re not too late. And these doctors!Doctors think rules are made for other people. Good thing we met them. It’s clear that at the base they have no idea of what the desert is like at night. It would be a good idea to organize a patrol, or even better, a full-scale hunt. Use every crawler and rover the base has.Humphrey Morgan, immersed in silence, walked with his hands resting on his carbine. He looked steadily to the right. He thought about how at the camp everyone must be asleep already except for the night watch, who would be worrying about his and Opanasenko’s absence; about how tomorrow they would have to transfer a group to Quadrant E-ll; about how he would now have to clean Fedor’s g*n five evenings in a row; about how he would have to get his headphones fixed. Then he thought that the doctors were men with courage, and that Irina Slavina also had courage. Then he remembered Galya, the radio operator at the base. Whenever they met, he thought regretfully, she always asked him about Hasegawa. The Japanese was an okay guy, but lately he had been showing up a lot at the base too. Of course, there was no denying that Hasegawa was smart. He was the first one to come up with the idea that hunting for the “flying leech” (sora-tobu hiru) could have a direct relation to the Pathfinders’ mission, because they might put humans onto the trail of Martian bipeds .... Oh, those bipeds! Building two gigantic satellites and then not leaving anything else behind!

(sora-tobu hiru) Opanasenko stopped suddenly and raised his arm. Everyone halted, and Humphrey Morgan threw up his carbine and turned sharply to the right.

“What’s happening?” Novago asked, trying to speak calmly.

He very much wanted to get out his pistol, but he felt too embarrassed.

“It is here,” Opanasenko said softly. He waved to Morgan.

“It Morgan came running up, and they bent down, examining the sand. Through the firm sand ran a broad shallow rut, as if a bag with something heavy in it had been dragged over the sand. The rut began five paces to the right and ended fifteen paces to the left.

“That’s it,” said Opanasenko. “It has tracked us down and is stalking us.”

“It He stepped across the rut, and they moved on. Novago noticed that Mandel had again transferred his valise to his left hand, and had stuck the right into his coat pocket. Novago smiled, but he felt uneasy. He had tasted fear.

“Well,” Mandel said in an unnaturally cheerful voice, “since iV’s already tracked us down, let’s start talking.”

“All right,” said Opanasenko. “And when it springs, fall face down.”

“What for?” asked Mandel, offended.

“It doesn’t touch anyone who’s lying on the ground,” Opanasenko explained.

“Oh, yes, right.”

“There’s only one minor detail,” muttered Novago. “Knowing when it’ll spring.”

“You’ll notice,” said Opanasenko. “We’ll start firing.”

“I wonder,” said Mandel. “Does it attack mimicrodons? You know, when they stand straight up? On the tail and hind legs .... Hey!” he exclaimed. “Maybe it takes us for mimicrodons?”

it it “There’s no point in tracking and attacking mimicrodons only from the right,” Opanasenko said with some irritation. “You can just walk up and eat them—head first or tail first, as you please.”

Fifteen minutes later they again crossed a rut and after another ten minutes, still another. Mandel grew silent. Now he would not take his right hand out of his pocket.

“It will spring in five minutes or so,” Opanasenko said in a strained voice. “Now it’s to the right of us.”

“It “I wonder,” Mandel said quietly. “If we walked backward would it still spring from the right?”

“Be quiet, Lazar,” Novago said through his teeth.

It sprang after three minutes. Morgan shot first. Novago’s ears rang. He saw the double flash of the shots; the traces, straight as an arrow, of the two streams of fire; and the white stars of the explosions on the crest of the dune. A second later Opanasenko opened fire. Pow-pow, pow-pow-pow! thundered the carbine shots, and he could hear the bullets tear into the sand with a muffled whump. For an instant it seemed to Novago that he could see a snarling muzzle and bulging eyes, but the stars of explosions and the streams of fire had already moved far to one side, and he realized that he had been mistaken. Something long and gray rushed low over the dunes, crossing the fading threads of gunfire, and only then did Novago throw himself face down on the sand.

It Pow-pow, pow-pow-pow! whump. c***k! c***k! c***k! Mandel was up on one knee and, holding the pistol in his outstretched hand, was methodically ravaging an area somewhere between Morgan’s and Opanasenko’s lines of fire. Pow-pow-pow! Pow-pow-pow! thundered the carbines. Now the Pathfinders were firing by turns. Novago saw the tall Morgan scramble over the dune on all fours and fall, saw his shoulders tremble with the shots. Opanasenko fired kneeling, and time after time white flashes lit up his huge black glasses and the black muzzle of his oxygen mask.

Crack! c***k! c***k! Pow-pow-pow! Pow-pow-pow! Then silence returned.

“We beat it off,” said Opanasenko, getting up and brushing sand from his knees. “That’s how it always is—if you open fire in time, it jumps to the side and clears out.”

it “I hit it once,” Humphrey Morgan said loudly. They could hear the metallic ring as he pulled out an empty clip.