Robert Silverberg: Planet of Death

Bartlett cracked his knuckles to show how angry he was. He looked up slowly.

“All right,” he said, “I’ll go along. What else can I do, if the others are crazy enough to want to stay?”

“Good,” said the Captain. “Let’s have no more talk of leaving, now. We’ve got a job to do here. Is that understood?”

It was.

But it wasn’t understood happily. Some of the men were upset about staying here longer. Bartlett and Fernandez had been the only ones who had dared to speak out against the Captain. But Crawford knew that some of the others felt the same way Bartlett and Fernandez did.

After the Captain left the room, Bartlett called Fernandez aside. They sat in the corner, talking in low whispers. Five minutes went by. Then they asked Grover to come over and join them.

Crawford didn’t know what was going on. But he could guess that they were planning some way of getting Hendrin to change his mind.

Lazenby said to Crawford, “I don’t understand these men. They’re veterans of the Exploration Corps. They shouldn’t be such cowards!”

“They’ve never run up against a planet like this one,” Crawford said. “Maybe they want to stay alive long enough to explore somewhere else.”

Lazenby shook his head. “It’s not the right idea at all! They’ve got work to do here!”

Crawford was a little surprised himself. In the books he had read, Exploration Corps men were always perfect heroes. They never were afraid of anything. They endured all kinds of hardships without complaining.

But those were the storybooks. This was real life.

And in real life, even Exploration Corps men could get scared. This world was something special, so brutal and ugly that it could scare anyone. This was such a terrifying jungle that it seemed to threaten every man here with death. And so the corpsmen wanted to leave, though usually nothing could frighten them on any planet.

Of all this bunch, only Lazenby and Captain Hendrin really wanted to stay here any longer. The rest would be glad to get away from this grisly place. They were scientists, yes. But they didn’t want to die for science.

Crawford felt the same way about World Seven. It was a planet out of a nightmare. He wanted to leave here as fast as he could.

Crawford didn’t sleep well that night. All night long, the animals of the forest hooted and howled and screamed. The noise was so loud that it came right through the metal walls of the spaceship.

He spent a good part of the night staring out the viewscreen, looking at the dark jungle. Moonlight helped him see what was happening. World Seven had two small moons. They weren’t lovely orange-golden moons like the moons of Velliran. They were ugly little ones that cast a cold, pale white light.

By that hard white light Crawford saw strange wolf-like animals creep out of the jungle. They ringed themselves around the ship and barked at it. They tried to find some way to get inside. It was as if they knew there was food inside.

Then slinking cat-beasts slipped among the wolves and fought with them. There were screeches and high whines. When the battle was over, half a dozen animals were dead on each side. Their bodies didn’t last long. Scavengers crawled through the grass to feast on the dead.

Death never rested on World Seven. The struggle went on, day and night.

Late that evening, just before Crawford was about to go to sleep, Lazenby came to talk to him. The biologist was in a serious mood. He closed the hatch of the cabin and locked it.

Then he said to Crawford, “I’m still trying to pick up information on that murder you’re involved in.”

“How can you possibly learn anything out here, millions of miles from Velliran?”

“It’s possible,” said Lazenby. “Because one of the men on this ship is the real murderer.”

“What?”

“Shh! Not so loud!”

“How could that be? I don’t get it!” Crawford whispered.

“This ship was on Velliran when the murder happened, right?”

“Of course.”

“And you say that you blanked out strangely just before the crime was committed. Tell me, was there any strange taste or smell that you noticed when you came to?”

“A sweet taste in my mouth,” said Crawford.

“That’s it! That’s it!” Lazenby slammed his fist into his palm. “There’s a Vellirani drug that could cause a sudden blackout that way. It leaves a sweet taste afterward. I was studying it while we were on Velliran. I told three or four of the team about it. One of them must have got hold of some—and used it on you!”

“But what makes you think some member of this team framed me? It could have been anyone on Velliran,” Crawford objected.

“There aren’t many there who know of the drug. It’s rare and expensive. And it seems odd to me that right after I found out about the drug, someone would use it on you.”

“What motive would any of these men have?”

“That’s what I don’t know yet,” said Lazenby. “I’m working on it, though. First I have to find out which of the men knew about the drug, and which might have had reason to kill a native. I’ll take it from there.”

“Is there anything I can do to help?” Crawford asked.

“Yes. Keep out of it, and keep your mouth shut. If you started asking questions, you’d get in trouble right away. I’ll find out who the man is. Just give me a little time.”

A powerful surge of excitement ran through Crawford. The real murderer right on this ship! One of these nine men! It was all up to Lazenby, now. He would be the detective.

I hope he finds him fast, Crawford thought. I’d like to get my hands on him!

The next day, the exploration teams went out again. Although most of the men really wanted to leave, they were afraid to speak up. Captain Hendrin wanted to stay here. And Captain Hendrin was the boss of this outfit.

Crawford learned more about World Seven on the second day of exploration. The more he learned, the more he wanted to get off this world in a great hurry.

He was teamed with Lazenby again. They sliced through the jungle, collecting specimens and taking photographs. Lazenby seemed fascinated by everything. Crawford was simply disgusted.

And once they found something that even got Lazenby upset.

It happened when they came upon a huge, fat, black-and-gray animal lying on its side in a swamp. The animal looked something like a pig, except that a pig was much prettier. This animal was about eight feet long, with big, curling tusks and tiny, squinting eyes. Its skin was wrinkled and folded. Its ears were long and droopy and covered with stiff hairs. It gave off a smell that made Crawford want to hold his breath.

The animal was a mother. It had just given birth. A litter of nine baby beasts was trying to feed. They were about a foot long, and they might have been cute if they weren’t so ugly. They still looked wet and soggy, the way animals often do right after they are born.

There were nine babies, but there was room for the mother to nurse only seven at a time. Each of the seven was getting milk. The other two were left out in the cold. They lay a few feet away, making angry squealing noises.

Crawford had seen mother cats deal with this problem. First they fed some of their kittens, and then they fed the other ones.

But this beast was no cat. And she had a different way of fixing things.

She waited until the seven little ones had had their meal. Then she calmly lifted her big head and opened her huge mouth.

Snap! and one of the babies who hadn’t eaten was gone.

Snap! and the other one was gone.

Then she stretched out on her side again. The seven lucky little ones came close to her once more. They nestled against her warm belly.