Wasteland of flint

Hummingbird turned and found the brawny shape of Isoroku blocking the movement of the Hesht female onto the bridge. The engineer's back was tense, though nothing in comparison to the slitted eyes and flattened ear-tufts of the alien. Enraged, the Hesht loomed over the human, her long arms poised to slam the engineer out of the way.

'I am Green Hummingbird,' the Mйxica said, putting a warning hand on Isoroku's shoulder. His voice was very firm and he met Magdalena's eyes squarely. 'I am an Imperial Officer from the Cornuelle. There is no cause for territorial dispute, ss'shuma Magdalena. Your pride hunts for mine, and I have need of your place-of-watching.'

Magdalena bared her teeth, circling through the darkened, inactive navigator's station, glittering nails digging into the backs of the seats to propel herself along. 'You may be queens-pride, old crow, but you are not welcome here! Look, if you must, but keep your dirty paws to yourself.'

Hummingbird felt a flash of irritation – one he suppressed before the emotion could color his face or make him react – and gave Isoroku a little push. 'My thanks, Isoroku-san. I will comm if I have need of anything.'

The engineer, still watching Magdalena with a wary eye, made a sharp, properly polite bow and swam off down the access tube. The Hesht watched him go with undiluted, unfeigned hatred burning in her yellow eyes. The claws of her right hand slipped reflexively out of bony sheaths, then retracted. Hummingbird kicked away from the deck and drifted into her direct line of sight.

'Sho-sa Isoroku is not one of your hunting-pride,' he said, catching her attention. 'He takes food from the kill of Hadeishi, who drinks from my watering holes. Do you understand me, ss'hi' a?'

Magdalena bristled at the word, black lips curling away from gleaming white teeth. 'I am not a child! Insult me again, monkey, and -'

'You will do what?' Hummingbird drifted closer, ignoring the bared claws. Startled at his boldness, Magdalena backed up. 'You will lose your temper? Attack me, without the pack-leader's permission? Have your entire pride seized and imprisoned, this ship-den impounded by the Imperial Navy?'

The Hesht flinched as if struck, then her anger surged, a deep rumbling in the back of her throat. Hummingbird refused to move, refused to show any reaction at all. Magdalena stood poised and stiff for a moment, then suddenly gave ground. Her tail was twitching, both ears flat against the long angular skull. 'What…what do you want?'

'A civil reception,' Hummingbird said, testily. 'Where is Anderssen-tzin? On the planet?'

'Yes,' Magdalena hissed, twitching from head to toe. She swung gracefully over into the comm station seat, one leg bracing against the command panel. 'She's just returned to the base camp.'

'And the other scientists? Where are they?' Hummingbird took care to remain standing, so he could look down on the Hesht from at least a tiny height. The bitter smell of tension in the air was beginning to abate, but he did not wish to give up any advantage.

Magdalena pointed sullenly at a v-pane showing orbital tracks, the ring of satellites and various other objects in near-Ephesian space. 'Bandao-tzin is carrying them in shuttle one; they will be docking here in an hour and fifty minutes. The other shuttle is still groundside.'

'All of the scientists? What about the security team?' Hummingbird chanted the names of the men and women on the surface – a quick mnemonic to remind him of their names, faces, specialties – under his breath.

'Not all.' Magdalena's eyes narrowed again, yellow-amber wedges reflecting the intermittent glow of the instrument panels. 'Our stray sister is still lost and Gretchen is hunting planetside until tomorrow. Blake and Parker and Fuentes are with her.'

'Russovsky.' Hummingbird nodded, remembering, and then turned a sharp eye on the Hesht. 'You've not made contact with her by comm? Her ultralight is fully equipped, by my memory.'

'She does not answer. Radar scans have not found her. The planet is large – perhaps you should go look yourself.' Magdalena yawned derisively, showing a forest of razor-sharp teeth. 'I am looking, but our search is slowed by the damage suffered by the Palenque. Maybe your pride helps, if you want to catch this stray kupil? Hadeishi's ship has excellent eyes.'

Hummingbird did not respond. He was watching the time-to-dock estimate for shuttle one and considering which path was swiftest to his goal. Russovsky could lead us to her discovery site immediately, he thought. But these others will have seen, done things on the planet as well. They are often jealous creatures – they may have withheld knowledge from one another, even from their public logs and records. He sighed, estimating the time he would need to interrogate each of the macehualli technicians. Ah, but the tenacious Anderssen will want to find Russovsky for herself. Let us not duplicate our efforts. Hummingbird looked up, catching the Hesht making an insulting face.

'I am lair-guest, for a time, ss'shuma.' He made a pointing motion with his nose. 'I will not disturb your efforts to repair the ship. Good day.' With that, he sprang easily into the mouth of the access tube and then swam down into the main passage. Behind him, there was a spitting hiss, but nothing so loud or obvious he needed to take notice.

Hummingbird shook his head, coming to light at the entryway to the hab ring. 'A waste of time,' he said to himself, eyeing the various cabin doors. Some of the locks were dimly lit with the closed hand of a privacy lock, others were entirely dark. But I am impatient, he realized, feeling the queer, nibbling attraction of the cylinder and its contents. This is not good.

He found an unused cabin and tapped on his comm. 'Sergeant Fitzsimmons? Yes, this is Hummingbird. I have some things by the number one airlock. Can you bring them to…' He read out the cabin number, then set about testing the lights, shower, refresher. Most things seemed to be working. The common, everyday motions served to settle his nerves.

A particularly disturbing thought had occurred to him.

What, he mused, if the planet itself is a lure? So obviously shaped, marked with the tread of the First Sun people…any spacefaring race would light here and be intrigued. Then – scattered about, perhaps the cylinders are only one such bait – some dangerous items, some helpful devices. These things have happened before. But is the trap here on Ephesus, or are we picking up marker dye to lead something homeward?

By the time Fitzsimmons and Deckard arrived with his baggage – and he'd brought everything from the Cornuelle save the little shrine to the Lady of Tepeyac – Hummingbird had disassembled the in-cabin comm panel and was wiring the data conduit to take his portable comps.

'Master Hummingbird?' The sergeant paused in the doorway, surprised to find the wizened old man surrounded by a cloud of components and glassite panels. 'Do you need help? I can call Iso -'

'No, thank you.' Hummingbird looked up, measuring the two men with a critical eye. He was not displeased with what he saw. Even aboard this ship, the Marines were carrying their weapons and tools, within a moment's notice of combat readiness. 'Put those things there, yes, against the wall.'

Hummingbird watched them move, and was pleased to see they were entirely at home in the z-g environment of the ship. Well trained, he thought. A fine pair of tools. They should not be wasted.

'Tomorrow morning,' the tlamatinime said, drawing their attention. 'You'll go down to the planet in shuttle one. There is – if you had not heard – a scientist missing from the team. A woman named Russovsky. Find and secure this woman and return her – alive, unharmed – to the ship.'

'Aye, sir.' Fitzsimmons seemed startled, pleased and concerned all at once. 'With civilian help, or without?'

'Make use of their pilots,' Hummingbird said. 'Anderssen will be eager to find her as well. By tomorrow night, I want everyone off the planet with a minimum of fuss.'

The sergeant nodded sharply, then spun backward out of the door. Deckard followed, and both men shot away down the curving hallway of the hab ring. Hummingbird closed the door, then pressed the small round shape of a privacy bomb against the wall. The device shivered, then winked blue. The tlamatinime felt his skin crawl, but the sensation of being watched faded away.

'Curious, curious cats,' he said softly, easing himself back into the cocoon of comp parts and conduit feeds. 'Out