Planet of Death Read online

  A nasty business, Crawford thought. And there was no telling when any of these other trees might suddenly reach out and grab them. Those trees looked harmless too.

  Crawford stared at the ground beneath his feet.

  He half expected it to open fanged jaws and gulp him down.

  “Come on,” he said to Lazenby. “Let’s go back to the ship. I think we’ve done enough exploring for now.”

  CHAPTER 7

  “WHO ARE YOU, MARKHAM?”

  Getting back to the ship seemed to take almost forever. Crawford was worried about those trees. He and Lazenby kept their blast-guns drawn.

  A couple of times it seemed as if a tree was about to strike. Branches began to move. Was it the breeze, or was it going to be an attack?

  Luck was with them. They reached the edge of the jungle unharmed. The ship was just a hundred yards away, in the middle of the clearing.

  “We made it!” Lazenby said.

  “Not so fast,” said Crawford. “We’re not in the ship yet. Keep your eyes open.”

  They stepped into the clearing. The thick purplish grass rose high around their boots. Moving quickly, they walked toward the safety of the ship.

  Suddenly an animal came rushing through the grass toward them. It was about the size of a dog, but no dog ever looked like this. The animal had six legs and a huge, toothy mouth.

  Here we go again, thought Crawford.

  Lazenby said, “Don’t shoot it! Maybe it isn’t after us!”

  “Look at those teeth! If it comes any closer, I’ll have to shoot!”

  It was only twenty yards away now. In another moment it would be upon them.

  Lazenby pointed to the sky.

  “What’s that?” he yelled.

  Crawford looked up just in time. He saw a heavy shape diving out of the sky. It was some kind of bird, as big as a vulture. Its wings were folded and it was letting itself drop right to the ground.

  The bird had a beak more than a foot long. The sharp beak looked like a deadly sword.

  Crawford watched as the bird dropped straight down, beak first. The long pointed beak speared into the back of the dog-like animal. There was a loud yelping sound as the animal fell over. “Will you look at that?” Crawford whispered. “It went right through!”

  It was the second time that Crawford had been rescued by one animal attacking another. The doglike beast was badly wounded. The dive-bombing bird had drilled a hole deep into its body. Now the bird was on the ground next to the dying animal. Crawford saw leathery wings fluttering as the bird got into position for its feast.

  Then the long beak opened. Bright jagged teeth were inside.

  “Amazing!” Lazenby said softly. “On this planet even the birds have teeth!”

  Crawford didn’t feel like staying around to see the killer-bird have its meal. He jerked Lazenby by the elbow.

  “Let’s not wait around for the next surprise,” Crawford said. “There’s the ship!”

  They hurried through the grass. This time, they got into the ship without any further excitement.

  Once the door was locked, Crawford let out his breath in relief. Safe! Safe aboard the ship!

  He had been in dangerous places before. But never one like this. Never a place where death might come from any direction, where it might drop from the skies or reach from a tree.

  They rode the elevator up to the top compartment. Captain Hendrin was there. He was dictating the ship’s log, and hadn’t yet gone out to explore.

  “What’s the trouble?” the Captain demanded. “Why are you two back so fast? What happened?”

  “We ran into some trouble, sir.” Quickly Crawford told him what had taken place in the jungle.

  Hendrin looked surprised. “Man-eating trees?” he said. “Well, well, well! We’ll have to send Grover out to take a look at them.” Grover was the ship’s botanist. Any kind of strange tree belonged in his department. The Captain went on, “Did you take any pictures when the tree attacked, Markham?”

  Crawford shook his head. “I was a lot too busy getting Lazenby out of that tree, sir. Another minute and he would have been eaten up. I didn’t have time to think about taking pictures.”

  The Captain was displeased. “It was important to save Lazenby, of course. But you should have taken some pictures too. That tree’s important to science.”

  “The next time I see one, sir, I’ll snap its picture,” Crawford promised. He felt like laughing. How could the Captain really expect him to take pictures at a time like that? But Captain Hendrin seemed to take everything so very seriously. The work of the Exploration Corps was like a religion to him.

  Captain Hendrin said, “I hope you and Lazenby aren’t planning to take the rest of the day off, now. There’s plenty to be done.”

  “We’re a little shaken up, sir,” Lazenby said mildly. He rubbed his middle where the tree’s “arm” had bruised it. “If we could have some time to rest before we go out there again —”

  “All right,” Hendrin said. He didn’t sound happy about it. “Take half an hour off. But don’t waste any more time than that. We have a schedule to follow. I mean to stick to it.”

  He opened his log book and began to write again. Lazenby turned away and walked into the ship’s library. Crawford followed him. The library was a quiet place where they could rest a while.

  Crawford pointed over his shoulder in the direction of Captain Hendrin. “He’s really tough, isn’t he?” he said to Lazenby. “The Captain means business!”

  Lazenby agreed. “Of course he’s tough. It’s the right way to run an Exploration Corps ship. You get the job done, that way.”

  They sat down. The color began to come back into Lazenby’s face. That had been a narrow escape in the jungle, but he seemed to be recovering fast. Lazenby had been on many of these expeditions. He was prepared for any kind of trouble. To him, it was just something that might happen in the course of everyday work.

  When he had rested for a while, Lazenby swung around and looked straight at Crawford. The little biologist said, “There was something I was meaning to ask you before that tree got me.”

  “Sure. What?”

  Lazenby stared into Crawford’s eyes for a long moment before he spoke. Finally he said, “Who are you, Markham? Really, I mean.”

  Crawford sat up in surprise. “Huh?”

  “Don’t play innocent,” Lazenby snapped. Suddenly he did not look so mild and weak any more. He said sharply, “I know very well that you aren’t Paul Markham of the Exploration Corps. So suppose you tell me just who you really are!”

  Trying to bluff, Crawford smiled and said, “Lazenby, has that tree-thing driven you nuts?. Of course I’m Paul Markham!”

  “You aren’t even a good liar,” said Lazenby.

  “Now look —”

  “You look,” Lazenby cut him off. “You’re no more a trained ecologist than I am a circus acrobat. You might just as well admit it. The real Paul Markham has been in the Exploration Corps for five years. I don’t know him, never met him — but I know that you aren’t any ecologist with five years of training in the field. The way you blasted down that killer animal without reason — no scientist would have done that.”

  Crawford wondered if he should try to go on bluffing. He decided against it. It was very clear that he hadn’t fooled Lazenby at all.

  Crawford said, “All right. Suppose I’m not Markham. What are you going to do about it?”

  “Nothing. You saved my life, whoever you are, and I don’t intend to turn you in to the Captain. But it’s unusual to have an imposter in the Exploration Corps. That’s putting it mildly. For my own curiosity, I’d like to know what you’re doing here.”

  Taking a deep breath, Crawford asked, “You want the whole story?”

  “Enough so I can understand it.”

  “Okay. My name is Roy Crawford. I’m a native of Earth, but I’ve lived on Velliran for the last few years. I was running a yangskin business. I had six hunters working for
me and everything was going fine. Then somebody framed me. I was found guilty of a crime I didn’t commit. Your ship was on Velliran to pick up the real Paul Markham. I had to get off Velliran in a hurry or else go to jail for life. This was the only way.”

  “And what happened to the real Markham?” Lazenby wanted to know.

  Crawford shrugged. “A friend of mine saw to it that he got to the spaceport too late. I don’t think any harm came to him. He’s probably angry that he missed the ship, though.”

  Lazenby smiled and said, “How much of this wild story am I supposed to believe?”

  “As much or as little as you want,” said Crawford. “It all happens to be true. I was framed for murder. They accused me of having killed a Vellirani native. It wasn’t so. But the evidence made it look that way, and the judge believed the evidence. That’s why I’m here.”

  Lazenby was looking at him strangely. “Did you say you were accused of killing a Vellirani native?”

  “That’s right. It was some kind of weird trick. I blanked out for a fraction of a second. Then I found myself with a bloody knife in my hand. And there was a dead Vellirani lying in the street in front of me. But I didn’t kill him.”

  “I’m sure you didn’t,” Lazenby said.

  “What do you mean by that?”

  “I can’t say any more just now. But I may be able to tell you something useful in a little while.”

  “Don’t talk in riddles!” Crawford shouted. “Do you know something about this murder? Tell me!”

  “I can’t. Look, I really don’t know much at all. I’m only guessing a little. Give me a chance to snoop around a little, will you? I’ve got only a slight suspicion right now.”

  No matter how much Crawford questioned the little man, that was all he got. Finally he decided to drop the subject for now.

  Lazenby said, “I think we ought to try our luck in the jungle again. How about you?”

  “If you’re game I’m game.”

  “Let’s go, then — Markham.”

  “Are you going to go on calling me Markham?” Crawford asked.

  “I think so. I’ve got nothing to gain by giving away your secret.”

  They went down the elevator together. Once more Crawford stood by the door that would let him out into the devilish world outside.

  He wished he could figure out what Lazenby had meant before. Did the biologist know something about the murder frameup?

  Lazenby wasn’t speaking. That was certain. He simply wouldn’t answer any questions.

  Crawford gave up trying to get information out of him.

  The door swung open. They stepped outside. The warm, sweet-smelling jungle air of World Seven drifted against their faces.

  “I’ll go first,” Crawford said.

  He stepped out into the grass, following the track they had made earlier. He moved carefully. Eyes, ears, and nostrils all were at work searching for danger.

  By now he knew how this planet worked. An attack might come at any moment — from anywhere.

  All you could do was hope to be lucky when an enemy struck.

  Step by step by step, Crawford and Lazenby crossed the clearing. They came close to the entrance of the dark, mysterious jungle.

  One of the bird-things with the sword-shaped beaks flew overhead. But it didn’t dive down to attack. Maybe it was still full from its last meal, Crawford thought.

  They passed the skeleton of the dog-like animal. That was all that was left: a clean white skeleton. All the flesh had been picked from the bones. Little scavengers with sharp teeth went running away from the skeleton as the Earthmen came near. They buzzed angrily as they ran. The scavengers were the creatures that had picked the bones clean, after the bird had finished eating.

  Now the jungle was only a few feet away. Crawford was surprised. They had crossed the entire clearing without any trouble.

  He bowed to Lazenby and pointed to the jungle. “After you, my dear Lazenby!”

  Lazenby bowed right back. “No, no, my friend! After you, by all means!”

  Crawford laughed. Then he turned and stepped into the jungle, keeping his blast-gun drawn and ready.

  CHAPTER 8

  TO LEAVE OR NOT TO LEAVE

  This time, the jungle did not seem so deadly to Crawford. He was getting used to its dangers. He was starting to get familiar with its terrors.

  He knew that it was risky to relax too much. You always had to be on your guard in a place like this. But now he was less worried than before. He had already survived some of the worst things the jungle could throw at him. As long as he stayed alert, he would be all right in here.

  He still wasn’t exactly happy to be on World Seven. In fact, every minute longer he spent in the jungle of World Seven, the less he liked the planet.

  There was something sick about this world. It was an ugly, vicious place. In any jungle, there was always a struggle to stay alive. But here the struggle was too violent. Everything in this jungle seemed to be out to kill and eat. Even the trees were hungry for meat.

  They edged forward, inch by inch, through the hot, sticky jungle. Lazenby was very helpful. He kept pointing out things that Crawford, as a scientist, should have noticed. Crawford was amazed at how many things he failed to see.

  Luck was with them. They didn’t run across any more man-eating trees. Nor did any of the big jungle beasts come charging out of the underbrush. But Lazenby found other killers, no less deadly.

  “Look here,” Lazenby said. He pointed down at a dark pool of water about three feet across. There were tiny blue creatures swimming in it.

  “So?” Crawford said. “What’s so special? It’s a puddle with tadpoles in it.”

  “Take a good look at the tadpoles,” said Lazenby.

  Crawford knelt down and peered into the pool. Lazenby stood guard behind him in case some animal should suddenly appear.

  The “tadpoles,” Crawford saw, were small shiny things about an inch long. They had bright little teeth, pointy and sharp. They could move fast, those “tadpoles.” And they were busy.

  A snake about two feet long lay on the mud at the bottom of the little pool. It was wriggling slowly. The “tadpoles” were eating it alive. They clustered around, nipping at the snake with their teeth. They were picking away pieces of its flesh.

  Maybe the snake had taken a shortcut through the puddle to save a little time as it wandered in the jungle. Or perhaps it had wanted a bath. But the hungry “tadpoles” had been lying in wait.

  “It’s the same thing everywhere on this planet,” Crawford said. “The big animals are killers. The little animals are killers. Even the plants and trees are killers.”

  “Yes,” Lazenby said. “Life is short and hard here. You have to be fast to survive. And you need a good pair of teeth.”

  “It’s a vicious world.”

  “No,” said Lazenby. “Nature isn’t vicious or ugly or anything else. Nature is just nature. It’s wrong to see this jungle any other way. That’s just life you see all around you. And on World Seven life is a rough deal.”

  “It’s a rough deal anywhere,” Crawford said. “Here it’s just a little rougher than usual.”

  “Exactly.”

  Crawford looked down at the hungry little beasts in the pool and shuddered. “I wish I could be cool and scientific like you,” he said to Lazenby. “To you, this planet is probably the most interesting place in the universe. To me it’s just a nasty, unpleasant mess.”

  Smiling, Lazenby said, “You mustn’t get so worked up. It’s only nature. You’ve got to stay calm if you’re going to be a scientist.”

  “I hate this place. I can’t be calm on a world like this. Not where even the trees try to eat you. I’d like to get off this planet in a big hurry. Everything here disgusts me.”

  “A scientist doesn’t hate,” said Lazenby quietly. “He doesn’t get disgusted. He studies what he sees. He doesn’t get angry about it.”

  “Well, I’m no scientist,” Crawford replied.
“I’m just an ordinary guy who didn’t go to college. When I see something dangerous, I don’t feel like studying it. I feel like hauling out a blaster and blazing away.”

  “So I noticed. But while you’re with us, you’ll have to act the way a scientist would act.”

  “Well, I won’t have to pretend to be a scientist for long,” Crawford grumbled. “Just till Captain Hendrin decides he’s ready to return to civilization. If I’m still alive by then.” Crawford looked at the leaves of a big green fern nearby. He half expected the fern to sprout legs and chase him. “If this planet doesn’t get us all before we have a chance to leave,” Crawford said.

  That night, back at the ship, it turned out that not every scientist was as calm as Lazenby. Some of them weren’t calm at all. They hated this planet every bit as much as Crawford did.

  It became clear very fast. The men of the Exploration Corps team gathered that evening to compare notes on what they had seen.

  Murray, the map-maker, was the first to speak. He was a short, broad-shouldered man with a bristly red beard. He said, “This is the nastiest world I’ve ever seen. I’d like to get out of here fast.”

  Crawford chuckled. “You spent your day a thousand feet up in the air. Go take a walk through the jungle if you want to find out how nasty it can really be.”

  “I did,” Murray said, tugging nervously at his beard. “Chung, here, wanted to study some rock outcroppings. I brought the copter down and landed it. We weren’t on the ground five minutes before a brawl started. Some big blue and red beast the size of a small mountain came toward us looking mean. But before it got to us, three jag-toothed flying creatures came swooping down. Just like dive-bombers, they came. They sliced its neck open and had themselves a party.”

  Chung, the slender Chinese geologist who had flown with Murray, said softly, “I didn’t get to study those rocks. After that, we decided not to stick around.”

  “It’s the same all over this place,” said Grover, the botanist. “Everything has fangs or claws or great big teeth. I went out to find that devilish man-eating tree that almost swallowed Lazenby.”