Chapter Four
“You mentioned they migrate south—every few years, is it?”
“We’re not certain.” Jan gingerly accelerated the vicar out of the cave into a lilac dusk. Marsh mist, tugged eastward by a gentle breeze, rose in faintly luminous, crackling commas over every area of swamp water, rendering the region mercurial, threatening. But there was no sign of the Hydras, other than the absence of other life. There’d been no definitive sign for the past hour they’d spent in the cave either.
“We’ve never actually seen a full-grown one this far south,” she went on, “but we’ve seen its side-winding tracks. We’ve found parts of its sloughed skin on the banks of deeper rivers, and stillborn eggs during our submarine recces. All this side of the equator. And don’t forget we were attacked a couple of degrees north of zero—that’s a long way south of the Hydra’s natural domain. So the evidence for migration is circumstantial, yes, but consider the reaction of the animals on the savannahs, you saw it yourself.”
“The defensive reaction, combining forces, as though they were ready to repel an invader, as though they were used to it.”
“Exactly. There’s nothing else big enough or nasty enough to provoke that kind of reaction on this continent. They’re ready for its return, as though it’s a regular occurrence.”
“But not today?” He gave the bubbling swamp water a concerned look as they passed. Jan had said the area might be deserted because a super geyser-burst might be imminent, but she wasn’t sure.
“Maybe not a full-grown one. Hesp Hydras are amphibian: they need to be fully submerged at frequent intervals, and now that I think about it, I don’t think these swamps would do the trick for one of significant size. But there could be smaller ones about. In fact, I’d bet on it.”
To demonstrate her caution, she ascended to high-alt, about sixty feet, which used a lot more hover power, and veered away from any hint of water all the way back to the base.
“Sorry for spooking you like that, Vaughn. Just trying to keep you safe is all—us safe, to keep us safe.” She turned away from him, muttering to herself. “So you’re leaving for Iolchis right away?”
“I think that would be best. Maybe recruit some extra help while I’m there. Kraczinski’s our man in the meantime; when I tell him what we’ve found, he might even drop what he’s doing and come here himself. He’s got no love for authority, I can tell you that. Hates all that bureaucracy and corruption around Earth and the Core planets. I think that’s why he settled all the way out here. When he finds out someone’s interfered with the sat net, he should come running.”
Jan nodded, then licked her lips. “So we won’t get to have our drink, then, will we—you and I.” She sneaked a sideways glance.
“Sure we will. When all this is done, it’s Arinto and McCormick’s on me. And Stopper’s having a tot as well. No arguments.”
She smiled, cupped her messy hair behind her ears, then saw that Vaughn had seen and quickly resumed her intense frown. It was cute and girly, reminded him she’d been out of the social game for quite a few years as well. Maybe longer than he had. But as an Omicron agent he had his choice of colonies and loose women, some for a fee, some who’d gladly pay him for the bragging rights alone—his was an exclusive club after all, always in the headlines, and a handful of agents were podnet celebrities, though Vaughn had always remained publicity-shy. Simply being an Omicron opened most doors everywhere.
Jan, on the other hand, was limited to infrequent get-togethers with a handful of fellow scientists scattered across this one planet. She might not find them attractive, and vice versa. He guessed she hadn’t slept with a man since before that fateful night north of the equator, when the man she was living with, her instructor, Ed Jelicho, had been killed. Maybe she never would again.
A depressing thought. It softened him inside, once again made him want to put his arm around her and tell her she had a hell of a lot more going for her than she realised. A lot more to offer a man than most of the women he’d met. But he could never word it the way he wanted without offending her, without coming across as a condescending prick who didn’t know the first thing about what she’d been through. That much was true. He didn’t. Couldn’t. Comparing his ordeal with hers was merely convenient, a bullshit way to put them on the same page when in reality they weren’t in the same solar system. He’d made the choice to ruin his own life. She’d had no say in her tragedy.
But one thing they did have in common, a rare thing, he guessed: neither had fled that which had flipped their life upside-down. On the contrary, she’d returned to the very place where it had happened, to continue what she’d started, to hell with imminent death and danger; and Vaughn had thrown himself completely into a career of law enforcement, the same career that had ripped him in two before he’d even started.
In that respect, they both belonged here on the Hesp, in a world of predators and prey.
And they were both hunting for things they might never find.