Justin Kemppainen - The Legend of Ivan

“They’re already waiting by the transport,” the advisor told Cobb, who nodded and took off at a jog. Managing not to stumble or fall down, he approached the transport helicopter, the usual anti-grav or hover lifts not functioning due to the interference.

Cobb’s jaw hit the floor when he saw the hunting party. One man was armed to the teeth. Bandoliers of ammunition and weaponry were strapped across what appeared to be every inch of his body. Slung across his back was a massive flechette rifle, the type that fired the razor clouds instead of the single rounds. Against the warnings of the establishment, he also carried an assortment of energy pistols. Hard ballistic body armor coated his torso and limbs with the matching helmet laying on the floor of the helicopter. Combat knives lay in sheathes, strapped to several locations on the armor.

The man was short, laughably so, but the armaments he carried would have kept Cobb’s mouth shut even if the second man wasn’t twice as scary.

He stood to be at least six and a half feet tall and three-quarters that wide. Cobb’s first thought was that they brought a shaved bear along for tracking or something. He continued to gawk at the huge figure as he noted that the man slung what appeared to be an iron tube over his shoulder. Small etchings lay across its dirty and marred surface, and it took Cobb several moments to figure out the device was actually a small cannon.

“You must be Raymond Cobb,” the enormous man said, crushing Cobb’s hand in his grip as they shook and pounding the guide on the back. “I am Afanasi Sergeyevich Lukyanov.”

Cobb stood, blinking and wondering if his hand or spine had shattered under the greeting onslaught. His scattered mind comprehended about a tenth of the name, and he gave a blank stare.

“Call me Ivan!” the man bellowed, grinning. “My associate is the very unoriginal Mister Grey.” The short man gave a nod. “We are here to take down a nasty beast.”

Not having rediscovered his ability to speak, Cobb nodded and gestured for them to enter the helicopter.

“Yes, yes, of course.” Ivan nodded, stepping into the passenger area. Without a word, Grey jumped in as well. Cobb took his seat in the cockpit with the pilot, donning a headset as the whirling blades roared to life.

“Where to?” the pilot called through the radio, looking at Cobb with expectation.

Synapses were sluggish to fire in Cobb’s brain, but the brief conversation with the advisor rolled into his mind. “They’re takin’ a shot at Max. You know where he’d be?”

The pilot laughed. “By the usual stomping grounds, I’d wager; it’ll take us a few hours to get to the base camp near there.” He shook his head. “Time enough to give these fellas their last rites?”

Cobb nodded and took a final swig from the bottle he grasped, chucking it out the window as the craft rose into the air. He took a couple of glances at the formidable pair in the back, who appeared unconcerned that their quarry had killed so many. After a few minutes, Cobb closed his eyes and fell asleep.

He jolted awake from a shallow, dreamless nap when the helicopter touched down, for a moment forgetting where, who and what he was. The thick stink of the critter repellant brought his mind back to task, and he hopped out of the transport into one of the secondary base camps. He was quite used to the smell and even associated it with safety.

Grey and Ivan slid out, gathering their armory as they exited. Grey featured the usual grimace as he set his helmet with transparent visor in place, and Ivan wore a wide grin as he hauled the small but heavy iron cannon out. Cobb noted slots all around the large man’s coat, round protrusions which must have held ammunition.

Perspiration poured down Cobb’s body, quite normal with the usual heat and humidity. It appeared neither Ivan nor Grey, even heavily laden, were sweating at all.

Shouting over the winding down helicopter, Ivan noted Cobb’s stare. “Olga is very beautiful, yes? Would you like to hold her?”

Ivan made as if to drop the weapon onto Cobb, at which the drunk shuffled backwards. “N-no. That’s okay.”

Bellowing a laugh, Ivan said, “I kid, I kid, friend. It is as well, as I am a jealous man. My Olga may be loud and unruly, but her kiss will always knock a man from his feet.” Ivan lovingly patted the cannon and hoisted it over his shoulder. He turned to his companion. “Mister Grey, are we prepared to move out?”

The quiet comrade gave a nod and started walking towards the exit of the base camp.

“Wait, wait!” Cobb yelled, moving to catch up. “We need to talk about safety precautions and… and company policies on bag limits!”

Ivan shook his head. “I’m sorry, my friend, but we are on a strict deadline for this job. Can you inform us on the way?”

Cobb, confused, didn’t feel like arguing with the huge man carrying the cannon. He trudged along beside the pair, mumbling through the various required pieces of information. The legal junk never meant much to him.

The company owned the planet and was technically subject to Galactic Central Government law, but enforcement was limited. Even so, having the proper warnings and policy was a good way to cover themselves in case of a surprise inspection, a lawsuit, or something else.

Grey remained quiet while they traveled through the dense jungle. He moved in front, hacking away at the overgrowth with a long knife. Cobb provided the occasional bit of direction, consulting a device when necessary to get proper bearings.

Ivan plodded along, singing loudly in a language Cobb didn’t recognize. Every so often, he’d spot a small creature: a six-legged color-changer clinging to a tree, a snake hanging out of the branches, or some tiny animal scurrying through the underbrush. He’d develop a broad grin and point it out, as though each was an amazing discovery.

“So why are you fellas out here, then?” Cobb asked, shirt clinging from sweat. Taking a swig of water, he wished he hadn’t exhausted his whiskey bottle.

“To hunt, my friend!” Ivan said. “I’d think that would be obvious, no?”

Cobb sputtered, “Well, ya, I know—”

Ivan laughed and slapped the guide on the back, nearly knocking the man sprawling. “Yes, yes, I’m merely poking fun. We are working for a client who wishes to have an impressive trophy on his mantle.”

Paling, Cobb responded, “You don’t think that Max is a little much for that?”

“My employer says to me, ‘Ivan! You bring me the biggest creature in all the lands!’ I find out about this place, and your employer was kind enough to tell me about this Max fellow. So I take Olga and this Mister Grey along to bring down the beast.”

Checking their position, Cobb noted they were nearing the ridge, inside Max’s territory. “Okay, we’re gonna want to keep quiet now.”

They progressed, thick underbrush pressing in on all sides. The ground started an upward incline, and they continued along. A noise, faint at first, rose as they moved: a deep rumble like boulders rolling down a mountainside. As they approached, the underbrush spread, leaving a wide path of trampled greenery.

“Goodness!” Ivan said in a whisper, noting a muddy track in the ground. Three toed, the footprint was quite deep and near the length of a man across. “The beast does not tread lightly, I see!”

Swallowing hard, Cobb didn’t reply. He’d never seen Max until then, but the stories were terrifying. His body shook with fear, and he prayed these men were half as impressive as they appeared. More of the huge tracks became evident, and what Cobb realized was the stinking breath of the massive beast rattled in and out.

Up ahead, sunlight bathed a clearing of trampled, thick mud nestled up against a jutting shelf of rock. The enormous creature with its thick, leathery hide lay in an obvious sprawl within the nest.