Day of the Dragonstar Read online

  When everyone had gathered on the platform, Coopersmith relayed their progress and position back to Copernicus. Receiving another go-ahead, he ordered Huff and Valdone to open the hatch manually by means of two interlocking gear-wheels. The sound of metal, moving smoothly, filIed the chamber. Instead of sliding into the bulkhead, like the previous ones, this hatch opened vertically. As the hatch parted, a bright seam appeared, as if there was an intense light source immediately beyond it.

  Everyone tensed momentarily. The two men paused as Coopersmith held up a cautionary hand.

  “Right,” he said, climbing the short ladder leading to the hatch. “Keep your sidearms ready, just in case there’s an unfriendly reception committee. Not likely, that, but we’d best be ready for anything. I’m going in first. Then Valdone. If that goes well, Thalberg, Pohl, and Hagar follow, in that order. Huff, you bring up the rear and establish a homing beacon at this hatch just in case there’s a maze of passageways. I want everybody to lock into the beacon. That way nobody gets lost. Also, Huff, I want you to maintain the link through the Heinlein back to Copernicus. Everybody got that?”

  Coopersmith looked at the party. Pohl’s mouth was ajar. He breathed heavily. Hagar’s fingers twitched nervously. Huff was stolid and alert. Valdone licked his lips expectantly. Thalberg’s eyes were wide and dark.

  For the first time Coopersmith realized just how beautiful those eyes were as they looked up toward an unknown future.

  He turned back to the hatch. “Here we go.”

  THEY STOOD UPON a small rise of earth which overlooked a sloping meadowland. This faded away to a marshy swamp and, finally, a lagoon. To either side lay the edges of a dense, lushly green forest. Warm and muggy, the air was full of steaming, organic smells. Looking to the horizon, it was hard for Ian Coopersmith to accept what he saw. He read a similar emotion in the faces of the others.

  There was no horizon.

  The tropical Iandscape of jungle, river, and sea stretched endlessly away until it curved upward and over them, filling the sky, becoming the sky, sixty-five kilometers distant, curving, curving back behind them in an endless roll. The entire interior of the gigantic cylinder ship was a living world of rich loamy soil, swamp, forest.

  Light streamed down from a brilliant source. It was so bright and intense that it hurt Coppersmith’s eyes, as though he were staring at the sun. Quickly, he flipped down the sun-shield goggles on his LS helmet.

  Running the entire three hundred and twenty-kilometer length of the cylinder, hanging almost magically in the zero-gravity center of the rotating world, burned a thick rod, a seemingly solid column of light and heat which filled the world with artificial day.

  A feeling resembling déja vu swept Coopersmith. He’d dreamed of standing in a place like this. His vision had been instilled in him by the dreamers who’d planned a space colony fitting this concept on a much smaller scale, filled with cities and parks, not wilderness. This was alien. And it was huge. Seeing it from the inside made him realize just how large it really was.

  The group stood about him silently, almost reverently. Coopersmith knew they were feeling just the way he did.

  Without a word, as though speech might somehow break the magic spell of the place, Coopersmith led them down into a reedy meadow, feeling the spongy earth give slightly beneath his boots. Coopersmith studied the odd terrain, feeling twinges of uneasiness, as though the party were violators of some ancient tomb. Mist hung shroudlike over the lagoon. Odd gurgles sounded. Insects thrummed, their buzzings and chirpings cutting through the thick, humid air.

  They walked upon rusty-colored, weed-choked earth. Bright green vines crept around frees. Small herb-like growths proliferated. There was no grass. On both sides of the clearing, all the way down to the marshes, walls of forest stood in green shadow. Palm-like cycads squatted in uncounted numbers, their thick-boles and trunks like unstaved barrels, accented with light brown cones. Giant tree ferns exploded with deep green fronds and fresh shoots. An alien wood, though Ian Coopersmith. Never seen before by man. Large, black-limbed conifers grew here, along with sparsely needled evergreens—primitive pines and spruces, tall proto-firs and cedars, thick cypresses which seemed to reach out like tentacled creatures, unbranching hemlocks black and pencil-thin. Presented before them was a skyline of fiercely stark, immobile life. A jungle of steaming shadows so thick, so densely crowded, that it appeared impossible to clear a path through such a natural barrier.

  Forever distant, insects hummed constantly. This forest must teem with life, Coopersmith thought. Life amidst the broad leafy boughs of the ginkgoes, amongst the soaring redwoods. This was a world never silent, a world fiercely alive.

  Something screamed, piercing the stillness of the air. Like the cawing of a crow, the sound came to them, and then was suddenly choked off, swallowed and lost in the forest’s depths. The cry broke into everyone’s thoughts, pulling them from their private worlds of perception. They were once again aware of one another. Time had been slipping away from them in this strangely timeless place, Coopersmith realized.

  He turned and faced the group. “Somebody sure went to a lot of trouble to do all this.”

  Nervous smiles. Pohl coughed. Rebecca Thalberg adjusted the straps of her backpack.

  “Hard to believe we’re really seeing it,” Thomas Valdone said, dropping down to one knee, cupping a handful of loose soil and plant life in his hand. “We’re really here!”

  Amos Hagar, the brash exobiologist and world-famous media personality, stepped forward, smiling. “Captain, this is the most important discovery in the history of mankind! Do you realize what this is! What we’ve found!”

  Gazing stoically at the enthusiastic Hagar, Coopersmith said, “I think, so,” very dead-pan. He’d never liked Doctor Hagar. The man used the media to popularize science, true, but in doing so he watered it down, sugared it to make a palatable drink for the public to swallow. Hagar was known for his gushing enthusiasm and unbounded optimism, his high-flying prophecies about contact with alien Iife-forms.

  Coopersmith noticed that the others were intently watching Hagar, caught up with his burst of childish wonder, awaiting his next pronouncement. Obviously relishing an audience, even here, Hagar stepped away and prepared to address the group, the smile building on his round face. He gestured wildly, the way some Victorian actor might execute a Shakespearean soliloquy. “Look around you! It’s a lost world . . . The Lost World! Look at those trees!” He pointed towards the forest. “Cycads! Ginkgoes! Smell the air! We are standing in the midst of the Jurassic age . . . an exact duplicate of the environment of Earth as it was one hundred and sixty million years ago!”

  “How can that be?” asked Rebecca Thalberg, her long dark hair curling beautifully out from the edges of her helmet. “How old is this thing? This . . . ship?”

  Hagar spun, almost dancing like a small child in a toyshop. “Anything which can be conceived can be possible. You can’t ask such a question, Doctor Thalberg . . . you must simply accept what undeniably is! Look around you!”

  Which set off a flurry of comments and questions from the rest of the group. This continued for a few minutes before Coopersmith called them back to order. “All right. Wait a minute. We don’t know any of this for sure. And we aren’t going to know until we start conducting ourselves like a scientific team. Huff . . . set up your communications gear right here near the hatch. Everybody keep your helmet-phones on. Doctor Pohl, Doctor Thalberg . . . I think you both have some instruments which can get us some hard data. I think it’s time we started doing that . . .”

  All of the team resumed their professional attitudes, except for Hagar. He seemed piqued at having lost his audience.

  Ignoring the man, Coopersmith continued delegating duties. “Valdone, you and Hagar will accompany me. Get out the cameras and the recorders. I want everything down on record. And Huff . . . ?”

  “Yes sir, Captai
n.” Alan Huff’s voice came over the helmet-phones crisply. Coopersmith liked Huff. Young, very bright, Huff was extremely dedicated. Although he had not known him as long as he’d known Valdone, he trusted the man’s sincerity and obligation to duty.

  “Patch me in to Copernicus. They must be going crazy, wondering what happened to us.”

  Huff made the proper radio links, enabling Coopersmith to detail their incredible discoveries to Kemp and staff. Audio and visual signals from the portable camera gear were telemetered back to lunar base. After a pause no doubt caused by astonishment, Kemp cautioned them to stay close together. Alan Huff was ordered to remain with the homing beacon,

  Slowly the group of five advanced across the small clearing toward the marshland and the lagoon beyond it. Coopersmith and Valdone carried their .50 caliber sidearms drawn. The others handled the recording and analytical instruments.

  The ground became soft under their feet as they traveled. The insect chirpings paused infrequently, as though the world had briefly become aware of their presence and was watching them.

  Something moved overhead.

  Soaring past the glare from the central rod, a dark shape glided easily over them. A smallish, bat-like thing, it headed toward the lagoon, where it skimmed perilously close to the calm surface of the water.

  Hagar followed its flight with his camera, trying to keep it in focus. The first sign of advanced animal Iife, everyone watched it.

  “Pterosaur of some sort,” said Doctor Hagar. “Looking for its lunch, probably. Funny. Not quite as I had visualized the species.”

  As if on the cue, the first Pterosaur’s appearance heralded the arrival of more silently gliding creatures. The last in this lazy formation tilted its pointed head and peered blankly at the humans below. Its pointed beak slit slightly, and Coopersmith caught a flash of tiny teeth as it emitted a high-pitched screech. It followed the flight path of the others down to the lagoon.

  “Incredible,” Valdone whispered. “Just incredible!”

  Hagar spoke much louder. “This must have been some kind of . . . of specimen ship. An interstellar laboratory. The builders of this ship . . . they must have visited the Earth so long ago! A hundred and sixty million years ago. They stopped and picked up samples of Earth’s life forms. No wonder—”

  “But what happened?” interrupted Rebecca. “It’s still here.”

  “Something happened,” returned Hagar. “I don’t know what. An accident? A malfunction? Maybe a disease wiped out the crew, I don’t know. But the ship never left our system. It’s been here all this time . . . the creatures in it probably developing. Here all this time. Waiting for us.”

  Valdone laughed. “I wouldn’t exactly say, ‘waiting.’ Looks like it’s been getting along pretty well without us.”

  “What’s that?” said Coopersmith. He pointed to the left past an extension of the forest where it abutted with the shallows of the swampland ahead. Indistinct movement beyond the fronds and vegetation . . . something slow, as though traveling with stealth. The shapes beyond the forest peninsula ventured into the clearing. Three large creatures, standing on their hindlegs, waddled awkwardly to the water’s edge.

  Dinosaurs.

  “Jesus,” said Valdone. “I don’t believe it.”

  Coopersmith waved for silence, then spoke in a low voice into his helmet-mike. He checked with Copernicus of the quality of the transmission, reporting briefly also on what was taking place. Four other dinosaurs of the same species appeared at the edge of the swamp, all kneeling down on the shorter forelimbs to drink from the placid, reedy surface.

  “Iguanodons,” Hagar said. “Not exactly like we imagined them but close enough. Evolution is taking place amongst these creatures. These are herbivores. Probably harmless as long as one of them doesn’t fall on you.”

  Studying the herd of dinosaurs, Ian Coopersmith remembered their pictures in his books as a child, and shook his head. Iguanodons. They were massive creatures. With dark brown hides, thick, fleshy legs and bellies, they stood on their hindlegs and balanced on thick, immobile tails. At least four meters tall, they were. Twice a man’s height, and probably hundreds of times heavier. Their heads were large, making their small eyes appear even smaller. Their throats hung down from their jaws in loose folds of dewlap. Their movements slow and deliberate, the Iguanodons required a long time to properly right themselves on their hindlegs after dropping down to drink.

  Quietly, Coopersmith and the group closed to within a hundred meters of the creatures without disturbing them. Then suddenly one of the taller ones, now resting on his back legs and tail, raised his snout as if testing the scented air. Instantly, the Iguanodons’ movements quickened. Acting on a silent signal, the herd began moving away from the swamp, away from the humans and toward the lagoon, where a gentle, sloping beach reached down to touch the waters.

  “They’ve smelled us,” Hagar said. “Strange scent’s going to drive them off.”

  No one spoke as they watched the herd attempt to hurry away from the area. It was almost comical to see such massive, ponderous beasts waddling along, their tails and hindquarters wobbling in a swaying, rhythmic motion. The last Iguanodon had struggled to its feet, weaving slightly as it regained a delicate balance, and started after the others. It had hardly taken a step when the quiet scene was broken by the furious crackling and rustle of foliage from the forests’ edge to the left. A tannish blur of movement broke from the shaded tree-barrier. Something large and quick and almost twice the height of the lumbering Iguanodon.

  Quickly, the intruding dinosaur lunged for its waddling prey, pouncing upon its back. For an instant the two creatures hung in their bizarre frieze, balanced, not toppling, the dark, muddy brown hide of the prey in sharp contrast to the attacker. It was a large biped with heavily muscled thighs and large splayed hindclaws. Its long, thick tail, whipped back and forth like a cat’s as it hunched over the Iguanodon, trying to hold its rubbery flesh in tiny foreclaws. The Iguanodon feII forward, slapping into the swampy earth with a muffled thud, emitting a weak, bleating cry like a wounded bird. Now the carnivore, a Gorgosaurus or something closely akin to that class, went for the kill. In a moment so quick Coopersmith could barely follow, its great jaws opened, flashed a razor set of teeth, and snapped viciously into the Iguanodon’s flanks. It stood partially upright firmly digging its curved taloned feet into the bulk of the victim. Then it tipped and jerked its head from side to side. Under the savage attack, the worried flesh of the Iguanodon gave way, and a great bloody flap was torn from its side. The Gorgosaurus raised its head, holding the cattle-sized piece of meat in its teeth, tossed it slightly, and snapped its jaws once more. The entire gobbet of flesh disappeared into its mouth, slipping down slowly, distending the carnivore’s throat as it passed.

  “Good Christ,” Valdone said.

  “Let’s get out of here, Captain,” Rebecca said. She was backed up by a chorus of similar opinions.

  “No, wait!” said Doctor Hagar. “We’re safe here . . . he can’t see us or hear us. He’s busy with his food and will be for quite awhile.”

  The Gorgosaurus jammed its open jaws into the ravaged belly of the Iguanodon, tearing out another red section of still-quivering flesh. The Iguanodon trembled feebly under the weight of its killer, but to no avail. Its life fluids seeped from the gash in its flank and its small bird-like eyes slid shut. The Gorgosaurus ripped and tore, its jaws snapping mechanically. Pieces of hide and red muscle pulled loose from the stilled prey. The feeding was a frenzy that did not stop, as the great lizard head of the killer plunged again and again into the warm flesh. Soon its snout was coated with glistening blood, and still it fed.

  Rebecca Thalberg cringed away from the scene. Horror and repulsion showed in her expression. Coopersmith read her unspoken pleas to him.

  “All right, people, we’d better be getting out of here. We’re not—”

  “Cap
tain! Captain!” The voice of Alan Huff screamed hysterically in Coopersmith’s helmet-phone.

  Quickly turning, the group rushed through the reedy terrain of the meadows, swinging back to the right towards the clearing and the rise where Huff had positioned himself. As they approached the entrance hatch area, Coopersmith saw two smallish dinosaurs, no taller than a man, racing towards Alan Huff. Huff knelt on one knee, pistol at arm’s length, ready to fire. The dinosaurs were bipedal, long legged, with thin, pointed tails, their bodies tapered up to large-jawed, big-eyed heads. Rows of sharp teeth glinted. Their small forelimbs seemed to dangle helplessly as they ran. Like giant birds, they half-leaped, half-strode across the clearing with the speed of thoroughbreds, filling the air with crow-like caws. Even from the considerable distance, Coopersmith could see the panic in Huff’s eyes as he raised the gun and fired off three quick shots into the closest dinosaur.

  The volley struck the racing predator in the throat and lower jaw, instantly exploding its flesh in a shower of pink mist. It staggered forward, losing its balance. Shaking its fearsome head, it spattered blood and small fragments of bone into the air. But still it plunged forward. The second dinosaur, untouched by the explosive bullets, plunged past the first and leaped in the air like a kangaroo, its hindclaws flaring, crushing into Huff’s chest.

  The communications man managed one last shot, fired wildly into the air, before the beast was upon him. Huff was thrown on his back under the greater weight of his attacker. As Coopersmith’s group closed in, they could only watch in horror as the first dinosaur, a Compsognathus, raked its hindclaws across Huff’s abdomen, splitting him open like a piece of over-ripe fruit. Instantly, the ripping and tearing began as the snapping jaws pulled Huff apart. The second, wounded predator leaped into the bloody fray, finishing the kill.