George Martin - Old Mars

“It looks like there’s a city not five miles to the north of it,” noted Scorpio.

“A deserted ruin,” answered the Martian.

“Let’s hope so. Are there any water sources below the ground?”

“In the Crater?”

“The Crater, the city, anywhere in the area.”

“I don’t believe so.”

“So if someone is waiting in the city, they probably figured out that you were coming to the Crater of Dreams,” said Scorpio. “As opposed to waiting indefinitely for someone to come.”

“It is deserted,” said Quedipai with conviction.

“If it isn’t, we’ll find out soon enough,” said Scorpio grimly. “Okay, the Crater’s, what, three miles in diameter?”

“It is thirteen borstas ,” replied the Martian.

Merlin?

It comes to about two and three-quarters of a mile .

“It looks flat as a board. Surely if this tomb exists, it’s not thirteen borstas across, so where would you start digging?”

“I cannot tell you yet.”

“If you don’t trust me, we might as well call this whole thing off,” said Scorpio.

The Martian shook his head. “You misunderstand. I cannot tell you because I do not yet know.”

“When will you know?”

“Some of the ancient writings that I have uncovered describe certain landmarks.”

“Cutie Pie, this is going to come as a shock to you, but landmarks change over twenty or thirty millennia,” said Scorpio.

“Not these,” said Quedipai confidently.

Does he know what he’s talking about? Scorpio asked Merlin.

Probably .

What do you mean, probably? He does or he doesn’t .

Probably these landmarks still exist .

You’d better be right. I don’t relish spending the next seven weeks digging holes in the damned Crater .

“Tell me more about this deserted city,” said Scorpio.

“Its ancient name was Melafona, but it has had five other names since then. It played host to every Martian civilization except the current one.”

“Good.”

“Good?” repeated Quedipai.

Scorpio nodded. “That means there should be water there, unless that’s why no one lives there anymore. And if there’s water, and it’s deserted, we’ll make it our headquarters.”

“But it’s more than twenty borstas from where I believe the tomb to be!”

Scorpio looked at the Martian and sighed. “There have been two attempts on your life. Unless you were dallying with the wrong Martian ladies, we can assume those attacks were either to prevent you or anyone else from finding the tomb, or because the attackers know what you know and want to get there first. Either way, do you think it’s a good idea to camp out, unprotected, on the featureless floor of the Crater of Dreams?”

“I see,” said Quedipai. “Of course, we shall do what you suggest.”

“We probably won’t have to walk to the site every day,” said Scorpion. “The flyer’s too small to carry any ground transportation in the cargo hold, but since the city’s been used in the past, we should be able to find or rig some kind of wagon and harness. Merlin likes to feel useful; I’m sure he’ll enjoy pulling us.”

I think I’ve put off killing and eating you long enough .

Fine. You and Cutie Pie can sleep out in the middle of the Crater. I’ll walk out from the city every morning and visit your remains .

“Whatever you say,” agreed Quedipai.

When they hit the outskirts of the Balthial sea bottom, which marked the halfway point, Scorpio decided to set the flyer down next to the ruins of a deserted village.

“Why have we landed?” asked the Martian. “We’re still hundreds of miles away.”

“Remember, I told you we’d waste a day out here in case anyone’s tracking us,” said Scorpio. “We’ll stretch our legs, relax, and grab some lunch.”

It may not be that easy , warned Merlin.

Why not?

There’s a family of carnivores living in the village .

Big ones?

I can’t tell. But they’re hungry ones .

Scorpio climbed down from the flyer, then helped Quedipai out. Merlin leaped lightly to the ground on his own.

Are they smart enough for you to read their thoughts?

They’re not sentient, Scorpio. The only thing I read is hunger. It’s been a few days since they made their last kill .

How many are there?

Five. Maybe six .

You can’t tell?

There may be one who’s too weak from hunger to be transmitting .

Scorpio walked around to the cargo hold, opened it, and pulled out a sonic blaster. He checked it to make sure it was fully charged, then carried it over to the Martian.

“You know how to use one of these?” he asked.

“No,” said Quedipai.

“Ever seen anyone use it in an entertainment video?”

“Yes.”

“Same thing. This is the firing mechanism. Just aim and push this button.”

“Who are you expecting?”

“It’s more a bunch of whats than a who ,” answered Scorpio. “And make sure you don’t hit Merlin.”

“Why would I fire at Merlin?” asked Quedipai.

“He’ll be our first line of defense. If we’re attacked, he’ll be fighting whatever’s attacking us before you even raise the blaster to take aim.”

Soon. They know we’re here .

“I’m going to get another weapon out of the cargo hold,” said Scorpio. “Keep on your toes.”

Quedipai looked puzzled. “I don’t have any toes,” he said.

Damn! They’re big!

Before he could even open the hold the Earthman turned to see five shaggy, bearlike six-legged creatures, each a dull gray, armed with vicious canines and long, curved claws on each foot, slinking out of the city and spreading out, as if to cut off all escape routes.

Quedipai was shaking like a leaf, so Scorpio walked over to him and took the sonic blaster, which the Martian relinquished gratefully.

Who’s the leader? he asked Merlin.

Second from the left .

He’s the smallest of the lot .

He’s a she, and the Martian duxbollahs live in matriarchies .

Scorpio aimed the blaster at the female and pressed the firing mechanism. She screamed in pain and surprise as she was hurled ten feet through the thin Martian air by an almost solid wall of sound. The other duxbollahs looked around nervously, trying to pinpoint the enemy that had sent their leader flying, never associating it with Scorpio and his weapon.

No sense letting them get organized. Wish me luck .

No sooner had Merlin sent the thought than he launched himself at the still-groggy female, ripping into her with claws and fangs. She tried to fight back, but it was clear that the Venusian was slowly tearing her to pieces. Finally, uttering a shrill scream, she turned tail and raced back to the ruins. The four males hesitated for a moment. Then Merlin charged the largest of them. He immediately followed the female, and the other three also raced back to the ruins in a wide semicircle that took them as far from Merlin as possible while still heading for safety. The Venusian loped after them in a leisurely manner to make sure they didn’t change their minds, then turned around and returned to the ship.

“Still wonder why he came along?” asked Scorpio with a smile.

“He’s quite awesome,” said Quedipai. “I didn’t think there was any animal around that could scare off five duxbollahs at once.”

Did I hear right? Did he just call me an animal?