XXIII.
Tree branches had broken the lifeboat's fall, the bow rockets had burnedout in emergency blast, and the swamp had cushioned the landing a bit.It was still a crash. The battered cylinder sank slowly into thestagnant water and thin mud of the swamp. The bow was well under beforeJason managed to kick open the emergency hatch in the waist.
There was no way of knowing how long it would take for the boat to gounder, and Jason was in no condition to ponder the situation. Concussedand bloody, he had just enough drive left to get himself out. Wading andfalling he made his way to firmer land, sitting down heavily as soon ashe found something that would support him.
Behind him the lifeboat burbled and sank under the water. Bubbles oftrapped air kept rising for a while, then stopped. The water stilledand, except for the broken branches and trees, there was no sign that aship had ever come this way.
Insects whined across the swamp, and the only sound that broke the quietof the woods beyond was the cruel scream of an animal pulling down itsdinner. When that had echoed away in tiny waves of sound everything wassilent.
Jason pulled himself out of the half trance with an effort. His bodyfelt like it had been through a meat grinder, and it was almostimpossible to think with the fog in his head. After minutes ofdeliberation he figured out that the medikit was what he needed. Theeasy-off snap was very difficult and the button release didn't work. Hefinally twisted his arm around until it was under the orifice andpressed the entire unit down. It buzzed industriously, though hecouldn't feel the needles, he guessed it had worked. His sight spundizzily for a while then cleared. Pain-killers went to work and heslowly came out of the dark cloud that had enveloped his brain since thecrash.
Reason returned and loneliness rode along with it. He was without food,friendless, surrounded by the hostile forces of an alien planet. Therewas a rising panic that started deep inside of him, that tookconcentrated effort to hold down.
"Think, Jason, don't emote," he said it aloud to reassure himself, butwas instantly sorry, because his voice sounded weak in the emptiness,with a ragged edge of hysteria to it. Something caught in his throat andhe coughed to clear it, spitting out blood. Looking at the red stain hewas suddenly angry. Hating this deadly planet and the incrediblestupidity of the people who lived on it. Cursing out loud was better andhis voice didn't sound as weak now. He ended up shouting and shaking hisfist at nothing in particular, but it helped. The anger washed away thefear and brought him back to reality.
Sitting on the ground felt good now. The sun was warm and when he leanedback he could almost forget the unending burden of doubled gravity.Anger had carried away fear, rest erased fatigue. From somewhere in theback of his mind there popped up the old platitude. _Where there's life,there's hope._ He grimaced at the triteness of the words, at the sametime realizing that a basic truth lurked there.
Count his assets. Well battered, but still alive. None of the bruisesseemed very important, and no bones were broken. His gun was stillworking, it dipped in and out of the power holster as he thought aboutit. Pyrrans made rugged equipment. The medikit was operating as well. Ifhe kept his senses, managed to walk in a fairly straight line and couldlive off the land, there was a fair chance he might make it back to thecity. What kind of a reception would be waiting for him there was adifferent matter altogether. He would find that out after he arrived.Getting there had first priority.
On the debit side there stood the planet Pyrrus. Strength-sappinggravity, murderous weather, and violent animals. Could he survive? As ifto add emphasis to his thoughts, the sky darkened over and rain hissedinto the forest, marching towards him. Jason scrambled to his feet andtook a bearing before the rain closed down visibility. A jagged chain ofmountains stood dimly on the horizon, he remembered crossing them on theflight out. They would do as a first goal. After he had reached them, hewould worry about the next leg of the journey.
* * * * *
Leaves and dirt flew before the wind in quick gusts, then the rainwashed over him. Soaked, chilled, already bone-tired, he pitted thetottering strength of his legs against the planet of death.
When nightfall came it was still raining. There was no way of being sureof the direction, and no point in going on. If that wasn't enough, Jasonwas on the ragged edge of exhaustion. It was going to be a wet night.All the trees were thick-boled and slippery, he couldn't have climbedthem on a one-G world. The sheltered spots that he investigated, underfallen trees and beneath thick bushes, were just as wet as the rest ofthe forest. In the end he curled up on the leeward side of a tree, andfell asleep, shivering, with the water dripping off him.
The rain stopped around midnight and the temperature fell sharply. Jasonwoke sluggishly from a dream in which he was being frozen to death, tofind it was almost true. Fine snow was sifting through the trees,powdering the ground and drifting against him. The cold bit into hisflesh, and when he sneezed it hurt his chest. His aching and numb bodyonly wanted rest, but the spark of reason that remained in him, forcedhim to his feet. If he lay down now, he would die. Holding one handagainst the tree so he wouldn't fall, he began to trudge around it. Stepafter shuffling step, around and around, until the terrible cold eased abit and he could stop shivering. Fatigue crawled up him like a muffling,gray blanket. He kept on walking, half the time with his eyes closed.Opening them only when he fell and had to climb painfully to his feetagain.
The sun burned away the snow clouds at dawn. Jason leaned against histree and blinked up at the sky with sore eyes. The ground was white inall directions, except around the tree where his stumbling feet hadchurned a circle of black mud. His back against the smooth trunk, Jasonsank slowly down to the ground, letting the sun soak into him.
Exhaustion had him light-headed, and his lips were cracked from thirst.Almost continuous coughing tore at his chest with fingers of fire.Though the sun was still low it was hot already, burning his skin dry.Dry and hot.
It wasn't right. This thought kept nagging at his brain until headmitted it. Turned it over and over and looked at it from all sides.What wasn't right? The way he felt.
Pneumonia. He had all the symptoms.
His dry lips cracked and blood moistened them when he smiled. He hadavoided all the animal perils of Pyrrus, all the big carnivores andpoisonous reptiles, only to be laid low by the smallest beast of themall. Well, he had the remedy for this one, too. Rolling up his sleevewith shaking fingers, he pressed the mouth of the medikit to his barearm. It clicked and began to drone an angry whine. That meant something,he knew, but he just couldn't remember what. Holding it up he saw thatone of the hypodermics was projecting halfway from its socket. Ofcourse. It was empty of whatever antibiotic the analyzer had called for.It needed refilling.
Jason hurled the thing away with a curse, and it splashed into a pooland was gone. End of medicine, end of medikit, end of Jason dinAlt.Single-handed battler against the perils of deathworld. Strong-heartedstranger who could do as well as the natives. It had taken him all ofone day on his own to get his death warrant signed.
* * * * *
A choking growl echoed behind him. He turned, dropped and fired in thesame motion. It was all over before his conscious mind was aware it hadhappened. Pyrran training had conditioned his reflexes on thepre-cortical level. Jason gaped at the ugly beast dying not a meter fromhim and realized he had been trained well.
His first reaction was unhappiness that he had killed one of the grubberdogs. When he looked closer he realized this animal was slightlydifferent in markings, size and temper. Though most of its forequarterswere blown away, blood pumping out in dying spurts, it kept trying toreach Jason. Before the eyes glazed with death it had struggled its wayalmost to his feet.
It wasn't quite a grubber dog, though chances were it was a wildrelative. Bearing the same relation as dog to wolf. He wondered if therewere any other resemblances between wolves and this dead beast. Did theyhunt in packs, too?
As soon as the thought hit h
im he looked up--not a moment too soon. Thegreat forms were drifting through the trees, closing in on him. When heshot two, the others snarled with rage and sank back into the forest.They didn't leave. Instead of being frightened by the deaths they greweven more enraged.
Jason sat with his back to the tree and waited until they came closebefore he picked them off. With each shot and dying scream the outragedsurvivors howled the louder. Some of them fought when they met, ventingtheir rage. One stood on his hind legs and raked great strips of barkfrom a tree. Jason aimed a shot at it, but he was too far away to hit.
There were advantages to having a fever, he realized. Logically he knewhe would live only to sunset, or until his gun was empty. Yet the factdidn't bother him greatly. Nothing really mattered. He slumped, relaxedcompletely, only raising his arm to fire, then letting it drop again.Every few minutes he had to move to look in back of the tree, and killany of them that were stalking him in the blind spot. He wished dimlythat he were leaning against a smaller tree, but it wasn't worth theeffort to go to one.
Sometime in the afternoon he fired his last shot. It killed an animal hehad allowed to get close. He had noticed he was missing the longershots. The beast snarled and dropped, the others that were close pulledback and howled in sympathy. One of them exposed himself and Jasonpulled the trigger.
There was only a slight click. He tried again, in case it was just amisfire, but there was still only the click. The gun was empty, as wasthe spare clip pouch at his belt. There were vague memories ofreloading, though he couldn't remember how many times he had done it.
This, then, was the end. They had all been right, Pyrrus was a match forhim. Though they shouldn't talk. It would kill them all in the end, too.Pyrrans never died in bed. Old Pyrrans never died, they just got et.
Now that he didn't have to force himself to stay alert and hold the gun,the fever took hold. He wanted to sleep and he knew it would be a longsleep. His eyes were almost closed as he watched the wary carnivoresslip closer to him. The first one crept close enough to spring, he couldsee the muscles tensing in its leg.
It leaped. Whirling in midair and falling before it reached him. Bloodran from its gaping mouth and the short shaft of metal projected fromthe side of his head.
The two men walked out of the brush and looked down at him. Their merepresence seemed to have been enough for the carnivores, because they allvanished.
Grubbers. He had been in such a hurry to reach the city that he hadforgotten about the grubbers. It was good that they were here and Jasonwas very glad they had come. He couldn't talk very well, so he smiled tothank them. But this hurt his lips too much so he went to sleep.