Planet of Death

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.