Robert Silverberg: Planet of Death

Crawford felt about three inches high.

The Captain went on, “I’ve operated that way for thirteen years, and I’ll keep on operating that way.” His voice lashed like a whip. He turned to the other men of the exploration team. “Is there anybody else who feels like leaving this planet now?”

No one spoke.

Embarrassed, Crawford looked down at the floor. He had been wrong to say what he had said. No true Exploration Corpsman would have said it—no matter how close he had come to being eaten alive.

But Crawford wasn’t a true Exploration Corpsman. That was the whole trouble. He didn’t have a scientist’s hunger for knowledge.

He was just a hunter who was escaping from a phony murder rap. He had come on this ship because it was his only chance to escape jail. As a hunter, he liked adventure more than most men. But he also knew that some kinds of adventure were just too risky.

Like the adventure that this planet offered.

For a moment, Crawford felt like telling the truth about himself to Captain Hendrin. But he couldn’t bring himself to do it. The Captain would be shocked and angered. Crawford didn’t want to let everyone know that he was a liar and a criminal. At least, a criminal in the eyes of Velliran.

So he was going to have to keep on pretending to be a scientist. And that meant staying on World Seven of Star System Z-16 until Captain Hendrin was ready to leave.

Well, it might be exciting, Crawford thought. If we don’t all get eaten alive the first day. He said in a humble voice, “I’m sorry I brought the subject up, Captain. It’s just that I was shaken up by the sudden attack. My nerves—”

“Okay, Markham,” the Captain said. His voice was harsh but sympathetic. “I understand. You had a hard time out there. But no more talking of leaving here until our job is done!”

Crawford forced himself to smile. “Right, Captain!”

But he looked toward that jungle full of hungry monsters again. Maybe he wondered whether he would have been better off back on Velliran.

The Captain said, “We’ll start full exploration of World Seven in an hour. Right after we’ve had a few briefing sessions. And after we’ve chosen the teams.”

The Captain divided the group up into two-man teams. Each team would go out in a different direction to give the planet a thorough going-over.

The luckiest man was Murray, the map-maker. He wouldn’t have to set foot in the deadly jungle at all. Map-making was done from the air. The ship carried a tiny helicopter. Murray would fly it high over the jungles, taking photographs. Later he would use those photographs for making his maps.

He wouldn’t meet any jungle beasts a thousand feet in the air. He’d be safe from monsters. Crawford hoped that he would be picked to fly with Murray. But Chung, the geologist, was given that assignment.

Since Crawford was going to have to explore on land, he found himeif wishing he’d be paired with Bartlett, then. Bartlett, the anthropologist, was a big, strong man. He looked like he could handle himself in any kind of trouble.

But Bartlett was teamed with Grover, the botanist.

Crawford got teamed with Lazenby instead. He wasn’t too happy about that. The little biologist was a friendly fellow, all right. But he didn’t have much in the way of muscle. He wasn’t the type who would be much use in the jungle. Crawford was afraid that he’d spend half his time rescuing Lazenby from danger.

He had to go along with the teaming, though. He had already done enough grumbling for one day.

“Ready?” Lazenby asked him.

“As ready as I’ll ever be,” Crawford answered.

“I don’t blame you for not wanting to go out there again,” said Lazenby. “Not after what happened to you the first time. But it’s our job. We don’t expect Exploration Corps work to be a picnic.”

“No, sir,” Crawford agreed, not very cheerfully. “Well, let’s go.”

They rode down the ship’s elevator together. All too quickly they were out of the ship and on the ground, standing in the purplish grass.

Crawford had been a hunter since he was twelve years old. He had never been afraid of a forest before. He had always been sure he could look after himself, no matter what happened.

But this planet was different, somehow. That was a lesson he had learned the hard way—and fast. This was a planet of monsters. Death might hide behind any tree.

This time, before getting more than a step away from the ship, Crawford looked around. He stared in all directions. He wasn’t taking any chances.

The coast was clear, though.

“Come on,” he said to Lazenby. “There’s no trouble in sight.”

They edged forward toward the jungle. Scientific equipment was heavy on their backs. They had bottles for catching things in, and notebooks for jotting down what they saw. They were also well armed. They were carrying blast-guns for close action, and needle-guns for long-range shooting.

The thick wall of dark green leaves was just ahead of them. Suddenly there came a cry from the jungle. A harsh, croaking cry of pain.

“Did you hear that?” Lazenby asked.

Crawford nodded. “A death cry. Something’s just eaten something else.”

He thought he could hear other shrieks coming from the dark, mysterious jungle. He seemed to pick up the sounds of killing, the sounds of bloody feasting.

He looked at Lazenby. Lazenby looked back at him. They both grinned. Neither of them looked very happy, though.

They walked quickly forward into the jungle.

Getting through the outer wall of the jungle was hard. Tangled vines were wrapped around every tree, and there were many low shrubs. But once they were inside, it was easier to move around. Within the jungle, little sunlight reached the ground. The growth of shrubs and vines was not so thick in here.

The jungle was hot and damp. Thick wet dew covered everything. The shiny leaves were glistening and wet with little drops of dew. There was moisture on the tree trunks, on the ground, on the rocks. And very quickly the two Earthmen were dripping wet, too.

Crawford glanced at his watch as they entered the jungle. The plan was to cover as much ground as they could in an hour’s time. Then they were to return to the ship and give their reports.

He kept his ears open for trouble. He knew that this jungle was full of strange and probably dangerous creatures. He wanted to be ready for them.

It didn’t take long before trouble arrived.

They had been moving carefully through the jungle for about five minutes. Lazenby had come to a tiny pond. He knelt beside it, scooping up a sample of its water. Later, back at the ship, he would put the water under his microscope. He would see what sort of bacteria and other germs this planet had.

Crawford kept watch while Lazenby filled his collecting bottle and put a label on it. Suddenly he said, “Better look sharp. Something’s coming.”

“Where? I don’t hear anything.”

“Listen carefully,” Crawford said.

Lazenby stood up and cocked his ear. Then his mouth dropped open.

The sound of thrashing vines and splintering saplings became very loud. And then, thundering toward them like a runaway express train, came an animal.

“Watch out!” Crawford yelled. “It’ll run us over! Watch out!”

Crawford acted just in time. He looped one arm around Lazenby’s middle and the other around the trunk of a thick, gnarled tree. Then he jumped. He leaped up into the crotch of the tree, taking Lazenby with him.

“You spilled my water sample,” Lazenby complained.

“Too bad. But look at that!”

It was like a scene out of a nightmare. The huge beast smashed through the underbrush and ran toward them. It was a glossy brown creature about thirty feet long. It had four heavy legs that ended in big round flat feet. A long, thin neck stuck out at the front end, and a tail that was just as long and thin at the other end. It weighed at least ten tons. Even so, it was moving fast, crashing through the jungle.