Castle Vroman Read online

  The three handlers jumped down to hold the animal as Cody reined her in, but Cody waved them away and dismounted without problem. The animal was panting hard after the run around the corral, but it seemed to have suddenly lost its uneasiness around the handlers. She sensed the rider wasn't going to injure her as long as she cooperated, and that feeling now extended to the handlers.

  The handlers immediately saddled and bridled the other gelk and potential broncobusters tried their hand at duplicating Cody's feat. The gelk tossed each off within a minute. Cody, after receiving an hour's rest, mounted the gelk, a male named Thrasher, and showed the animal who was master. Thrasher was gently loping around the corral, as Crusher had, within ten minutes of Cody climbing into the saddle. With both gelks now saddle broken, it was expected that with a bit of training they could be used to round up other gelks, both inside and outside the valley. The breeding effort would still go forth to improve upon desirable traits and breed out those less desirable in future generations. Admiral Vroman realized he was admitting to himself that they might be on the planet for many years, but it was necessary to think that way if they were to survive. If they just sat around waiting for rescue, they would surely perish.

  A week later, the two gelks provided riders with a first lope around the camp. The hunters had already managed to trap another female and bring it back alive, but it would be a couple of weeks before anyone attempted to break it. Once the new gelk became familiar with the corral and began to trust the handlers, Cody would again exhibit his bronco busting expertise. The presence of the two original gelks would help considerably as they now stood perfectly at ease when around the handlers.

  That same afternoon, the camp celebrated the completion of a mill powered by the stream that ran alongside the camp. They'd now be able to grind their flour easily instead of using the difficult process of hand grinding every ounce. It would be a tremendous time and energy saver, not to mention providing finer flour that didn't taste the least bit gritty. Perhaps one day they'd be able to use the stream's abundant power for manufacturing cloth and other processes. Water diverted from the stream already irrigated the fields and provided running water in the mess hall and lavatory facilities.

  The discovery a few days later of a plant whose leaves had flax-like properties was another cause for celebration. At last they'd have new garments to replace the tattered remnants of clothing that everyone had been wearing since arriving on Siena, although it would be weeks before they would manage to spin the fibers into yarn. And they still needed to construct a loom for producing cloth from the yarn.

  It was less than an hour since sundown and most of the crewmen were still in the mess shelter enjoying their evening meal and their respite from the day's work when the emergency horn at the South Pass sounded. The building cleared quickly as everyone ran for weapons. The pattern of the signal indicated the danger was extreme and everyone assumed that another dinosaur was at the barricade. As they ran to the South Pass, and the defense of the settlement, they brought their heaviest spears and arrows.

  Admiral Vroman, being the oldest member in the camp, was the last to arrive at the South Pass. The sight that greeted him in the flickering light from half a dozen raging bonfires made his stomach churn and his blood run cold. It wasn't another dinosaur threatening the safety of the camp; it was an entire herd of dinosaurs.

  * * *

  Chapter Eight

  ~ June 3rd, 2279 ~

  Several dinosaurs larger than the one that had attacked the base previously hung impaled on the deadly, sharpened logs of the double-palisade barricade when Admiral Vroman arrived. Others were trying to climb over the still-twitching bodies to enter the valley. The weight of the latter dinosaurs pushed the first ones further down on the poles, impaling the dinosaurs climbing on their backs. Smaller, perhaps younger, dinosaurs had made it between the poles, and crewmembers were jabbing at them with spears to drive them back while the dinosaurs snapped at them with deadly jaws and spun to use the whip-like power of their tails. Several of the smaller dinosaurs had already fallen, but not before imposing a deadly toll on Lisbon crewmembers. Wounded fighters were carried away from the melee by their fellows, while reinforcements filled the vacated positions. Everyone knew they couldn't allow a single dinosaur to get past. One crewmember with a laser pistol could have beaten back the attack by themselves, but clubs, bows, arrows, and spears was all they had for this fight.

  The fight raged on for more than half an hour. After running out of spears, the fighters retrieved as many as possible from the bodies of fallen creatures and Admiral Vroman yelled orders that no more be thrown. The fighters used them only to jab at the dinosaurs still trying to enter the valley. The archers, out of arrows, threw rocks.

  The intelligence of the dinosaurs wasn't equal to their ferocity and they continued their assault on the barricade despite the heavy losses that the herd was suffering. Just when it seemed that they would breach the barricade, they retreated. Many carried severe wounds, spears, or arrows as reminders of their effort. The crew of the Lisbon would have celebrated, but far too many of their number were down. In case this was merely a retreat to regroup, Admiral Vroman ordered half his force to hurry out beyond the barricade and retrieve as many spears and arrows as possible. Large dinosaurs still hung on the poles, thrashing and kicking in a futile attempt to dislodge themselves, and Admiral Vroman ordered the rest of the standing force to finish them off. Standing beyond the reach of snapping jaws and teeth, flailing legs, and whipping tails, the crewmen sunk their spears into the creatures repeatedly until the dinosaurs stopped moving.

  The next step was going to be more difficult. They had to remove the dinosaur bodies so the posts would again function as a barricade. They tried pushing them up and off with poles, but it was useless without block and tackle. In the end, the task fell to the hunters who climbed atop the bodies and hacked the dinosaurs to pieces with stone axes until the remains fell from the post under its own weight. They then dragged the pieces of carcass between the barricades so the dinosaurs couldn't use the mass to climb on, nor draw the dinosaurs back to feast on the remains if they were cannibalistic.

  Severely injured crewmembers were carried back to the camp, while the walking wounded were bandaged and allowed to remain at the pass. Wood for new bonfires was stacked in preparation for when the dinosaur herd returned.

  At first light, the carnage at the pass presented a sickening reminder of the previous night's battle. The only positive thing was that the remaining herd of dinosaurs hadn't returned during the night. Blood was pooled in places around the barricade where the ground was too saturated to accept more. Thankfully, most of it was dinosaur blood. Admiral Vroman decided that after cleaning the area, half the force should go get some sleep. Two wheeled carts brought from the camp were loaded with dinosaur carcasses and hauled back to the butchering area.

  After six hours sleep, the rested crewmen relieved the people at the pass. There hadn't been any sign of the dinosaur herd survivors. The crewmembers that remained at the pass had used torches to burn the blood and tiny pieces of flesh from the impaling posts, and then sharpened the tips again. Rather than having the relief crew simply standing around the pass, Captain Lindahl gave permission to begin the butchering work on the carcasses. Clouds of flies, attracted by the blood, were already becoming a serious nuisance. As had been done with the earlier Alioramus, they ground the flesh, then pressed and filtered it to extract the oil for lamps. They wound up with so much oil that they didn't have enough gelk bladders to hold it all, so they borrowed all the earthenware pots and jugs they could find. They stretched intestine across the top and secured it with tendons.

  As often happens, valuable information was discovered by pure chance. One of the butchers, covered in dinosaur blood, walked down to the river to wash it off instead of using the washbasins. As he stood in the shallows rinsing himself off, fish began to collect around him and nibble at his blood soaked clothes. He quickly backed out of th
e water, but wisely called to one of the fishermen who tried a piece of dino flesh as bait. Each time a fisherman dropped a hook made from a bent nail into the water with a tiny piece of dino flesh, fish swarmed the line, each trying to be the first to swallow the bait. Such serendipitous occurrences can make a tremendous difference in the lives of those wise enough to recognize them when they occur.

  "It's been three days," Admiral Vroman said during the breakfast staff meeting. "It doesn't appear they're coming back. We were lucky they broke off their attack when they did; they were almost among us."

  Lt. Croff stopped eating and said, "Actually, I'm surprised they attacked at all at that hour. I doubt they could have sustained an attack much longer."

  "What do you mean?"

  "Based on what I've observed, I placed the beasts in a reptilian category. On Earth, reptiles rely on the sun to warm their body, unlike warm-blooded animals. When the sun goes down, they slow down. They might have been extremely anxious to get past the barricade before their body temperature dropped too far. They probably found a place in the pass to spend the night, not far from the barricade."

  "Then the logical conclusion is that they would have returned in the morning for another assault."

  Yes, logically, but we haven't studied them so their behavior is totally unknown. Perhaps the loss of so many alpha leaders in their herd caused confusion and they're still trying to determine who to follow."

  "Why did they fight so hard trying to get in here in the first place?"

  "They might be migrating in advance of colder weather. Perhaps this valley has been part of their migration path for centuries, or even millennia."

  "And the first one that came into the valley? Do you think it was a scout of sorts?"

  "I doubt it. We can't attribute that kind of intelligence to these creatures. Perhaps it was just one that was separated from the herd and continued on while the others laid up somewhere for several days to eat and rest. It's fortunate it happened because it prompted us to build the barricades at each pass into the valley."

  "Yes, and even with the barricades we barely kept them at bay. We'll have to improve our fortifications and it's time we stepped up our efforts of building a forge. We can't rely on stone axes and stone-tipped spears and arrows any longer. We need steel for spears, swords, axes, plows, and a multitude of other things."

  "We still have several crates of nails left," Lt. Pyers said. We could melt them down and use them for other purposes until we can set up a smelting operation."

  "But then we'd expend ten times the effort making nails again later and it's doubtful that we could make them to the tolerances required for use in the nailers. No, let's concentrate on working from raw materials. Our geologist, Lt. Rimes, has found iron ore sand in a dry riverbed near the cliff wall on the other side of the valley. Our first step is to cut a road through the forest, then set up a smelter operation to remove the slag and create the iron blooms. There's plenty of firewood nearby to make charcoal for the smelting process. We'll set up the foundry over here where we can use the stream to provide power for a bellows and trip hammer. We're about to move out of the Stone Age and into the Iron Age."

  "We're skipping the Bronze Age, Admiral?" Captain Lindahl said jokingly.

  "If anyone can find deposits of copper and tin nearby, I'd love to add bronze to our available materials list." Smiling he added, "I'd love to get some razor blades and be clean shaven again."

  After breakfast, the Admiral visited the shelter temporarily turned into a hospital ward. He already knew sixteen crewmen had died of wounds received while fighting the dinosaurs.

  "How are they doctor?" he asked of the chief medical officer.

  "We have no plasma on hand, but we've been able to get enough donors to fill our blood supply needs with whole blood. The medical supplies left by the Milori have been barely adequate to halt infection, but we're getting by. Several will be laid up for months, and many are permanently disfigured unless rescue comes. In a properly equipped medical bay, with a good supply of surgical nano-bots, we'd have everyone on their feet in thirty days."

  "I understand. Space Command will find us, eventually. I'm sure Admiral Carver is turning over her entire command area searching for us. Make them as comfortable as you can."

  A burial ceremony for the deceased crewmembers was held a couple of days later because there was no way to preserve the bodies and they were beginning to decompose quickly. The entire camp attended, except for guards at the two passes.

  * * *

  Vyx stood staring in disbelief at his ship, the Scorpion, or rather what was left of it. Several frame sections of the fuselage were missing and what remained was charred and melted beyond recognition. You couldn't actually call it a ship anymore. It was just a few hundred tons of worthless scrap metal now.

  "Quite a fireworks show," the spaceport administrator said. "Damn good thing we have reinforced blast walls between pads or it could have taken out a dozen other ships."

  "You say they were Tsgardi?"

  "Yep, all nine bodies. Don't know how many others there might have been; we only found nine. Even at that, we're sort of guessing. I suppose I should say that we found enough parts for nine bodies."

  "Any idea why they were messing with my ship?"

  "No. I thought you might know. Tsgardis don't usually get involved in vandalism or petty theft."

  "Perhaps they were trying to steal my ship. That's hardly petty theft."

  "Even Tsgardi should know that most ships here have theft prevention devices, although they don't usually blow with the force we saw from yours."

  "Tsgardis aren't known for their intelligence, but this reaches new heights in stupidity."

  "How do you want to handle the damage?"

  "Just have it towed to the nearest scrap yard; it's worthless to me."

  "No, I meant the damages to other ships."

  "Didn't you just say the blast walls protected them?"

  "It protected them from the blast, but not the debris that came raining back down."

  "How much are we talking about?"

  The administrator looked at the invoice on his electronic pad. "A hundred twenty-seven thousand credits."

  Vyx looked the administrator sharply. "What?"

  "A hundred…"

  "I heard the amount," Vyx said loudly, interrupting the administrator. "I just didn't believe my ears."

  "Four other ships were damaged, one quite extensively. They've been working on it for four days trying to make it space worthy again. That's where the largest share of the credits will go. They estimate it will be another two weeks before the work is completed."

  "Which ship?"

  "The one on that pad," the administrator said, pointing. "It's called the 'Whirm.' The owner is a trader from Eulosi. Our adjusters checked the damage. They agree that it was the result of debris raining back down from your ship after the explosion, so the expenses are justified. Ten thousand of the credits will be used to repair and repaint the blast walls, rip up the destroyed plasticrete pad, and pour a new one."

  "Okay," Vyx said, sighing. "I authorize you to charge my account for that amount." He held up his hand and pressed his thumb onto the ID circle of the administrator's electronic pad.

  "Very good, Trader. Uh, what will you do now? I know of a couple of good ships that are available. I could direct you for a small finder's fee."

  "Thanks, but I don't want to even think about it tonight. I'll let you know."

  "Yes sir. I'm at your service any time."

  The administrator turned and left the landing pad, leaving Vyx to stare at the remains of his ship. After a few minutes, Vyx became aware that someone else was standing next to him.

  "It's a shame," Brenda said. "Who could have done such a thing?"

  "I did."

  "What? You did this? Why?"

  "The ship was rigged with explosives in case anyone tried to break in, remember?"

  "Yes, but I thought you meant a small
explosion, designed to kill the intruder."

  "I guess I used more explosives than necessary. The intent was both to make the ship incapable of take-off and destroy the cargo hold in case it contained weapons."

  "You certainly accomplished that, but who was trying to break in?"

  "The port administrator said they found enough body parts for nine Tsgardis. If they were all standing close to the ship, I suppose it could have been as many as two dozen."

  "But why?"

  "It might have been Recozzi's family. Recozzi is a criminal I arrested about nine years ago. Seven years ago, I killed his brother on Gollasko when he attacked me. They've sworn a blood feud against me and the family's had enough time now to get here from their home planet."

  "The whole family would come looking for you?"

  "At least the male members; that's the way it is with the Tsgardi. It makes no difference that Recozzi was guilty of a crime and that a Galactic Alliance court sentenced him to his punishment. The family blames me as the arresting officer, and also blames me for killing Recozzi's brother when he attempted to kill me in cold blood."

  "Will this be the end of it?"

  "I don't know how many came or were killed. It's certainly going to slow them down, but they'll no doubt blame me for their new losses. Their home world is a thousand light-years from here, so that makes their roundtrip travel time six to eight years."