2.
 Mars listened, while wind ruffled his hair. He loved being planet-side. Even a large orbiting Survey like theirs was at best an artificial environment, with recirculating air and water. It was shaped like a spoked wheel that housed up to a thousand crew. Their work stations along the wheel were under one G, while the fat axle was zero-G, for cargo storage). The Survey had three major missions. First, to protect a pristine world from collisions. Second, when the locals grew more civilized, to protect them from themselves before they could totally pollute their world and kill each other. By the time the second goal kicked in, the Survey ship would be withdrawn to hide on the other side of the sun, but making frequent sampling missions using heavy skimmers that were usually shaped like flying saucers. Once the humans were safely through the process, and ready to embark to the stars using a Li!3 drive or its equivalent, Survey’s third and final mission was to request a welcoming committee from Galaxy Central’s bureaucracy. This always surprised the humans as they started to enter what they thought was empty and lonely space. Space was full of people who broadly belonged to the same DNA Group as the Geos natives, and Galaxy Survey had plenty of work.
“Hear that?” Diana whispered.
Mars strained to listen. It was still too dark to see, and stars twinkled in the blue-ink sky. Then he heard it: a thrashing sound. Thrash, thrash, thrash, like something... “Mechanical,” Mars said. “Something mechanical. I hear it too.”
Diana shook her head. “They don’t have threshing machines in this era.”
“Marching,” Mars said, remembering how it had been with CLF on Rondo and Mackelsie, two of the most bloody wars in his career. That was over a hundred years ago, in a lifespan that ran to thousands. The carnage and the fleeting space ships seemed as vivid now as then. He remembered the sound of men marching stealthily at night.
“You may be right,” Diana said. Her gray eyes sparkled with instant plans. “We could fight them if they want a fight. On the other hand—”
“Easy,” Mars said. “We came to hunt rabbit and kick back, maybe light a little fire and play home tunes.”
“You’re right,” she said, moving quickly. “Up the tree!”
There was a large old oak tree. Its trunk was huge around, and the two scaled it easily. It had several large branches about twenty feet up, and from there it was easy to run out and hide in the leaves among the smaller branches. Mars sat in one cluster of leaves, in another nearby. He only wished he’d found a fork to sit in; instead, he had to hug the smooth, dew-slippery branch with his legs and arms. Diana seemed to have found a fork, from where he could see, but she was on a rather thin and delicate looking perch. He wondered if he should warn her to scoot back, but then she was impulsive and never listened to anyone, so he resigned himself to waiting.
The thrashing noise grew louder and nearer. Mars strained his eyes and made out what looked like a haystack moving toward them. The haystack, as it drew near, turned out to be holding a shield and a spear. At its side was a bent bronze sword. On its head was a too-small helmet with two cow horns protruding.
"Look!" whispered Diana: "A bear!"
"That's no bear! It's some sort of man. He's carrying a sword."
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Copyright © 2018 by Jean-Thomas Cullen, Clocktower Books. All Rights Reserved.
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