Regers noted a fresh-water creek to the left and a foul, brown-colored one that ran up the middle with bloated bodies of various animals Dez had mentioned. Shell-pitted air cars littered the banks, hoods and wheels missing, hydraulic arms of cranes smashed, mangled backhoe scoops, rusted engines; lengths of metal siding and slabs of concrete lay strewn among the weeds and the rubble, and out into the street.
“Ah, you marvel at the contrasting conditions of the streams. The polluted stream serves as a reminder to the moths how fragile their ecosystem is, something to fight for, if need be. The creatures need some sort of fresh water supply to hydrolyze the fat in their food, similar to the dragonfly on Remus which was able to synthesize ozone from the atmosphere. Don’t ask me how. The thing’s makeup is completely beyond our knowledge base. One of the moths’ only weaknesses, as our scientists have determined, is its susceptibility to poisoning, like from that polluted stream.”
“You sure like to hear yourself talk, Dez. Why you telling us all this?”
“The first test will be against a land foe…two rivals actually…competing for water and space.”
Deakes turned to Dez and hissed in a hollow voice, “What you got going here? You plan to sic metal moth on bloodsucker cricket? Bug on bug.” He laughed at his own joke.
Dez blinked with a far off look. “No joke, Deakes. There’s more to your statement than you think. The Xesian insects seek comfort like a security blanket in their metal shields, as does a snail in its shell. They excel with their armor. Outperform all our other mechno models.”
Regers gave a caustic snort. “Don’t know about you, Dez, but I’ve no intention of piss-assing around talking about bugs all day. We’re on a program here to pillage and burn, hunt down a fink.”
“Not going to be anything left to pillage, Regers, if those squids and their allies get their way. Unless we do something about them.”
“Says who?” sneered Regers. “Why’s everybody trying to be such a god-damn hero?” He threw up his hands. “You want to spend the rest of your days stuck in a bug tank or squeezed to shit by skulking squids? Go right ahead.” He turned to stalk off, but the guard kept him at bay with his E1.
A heavy metal door slid open on the side wall to reveal two cages of nearly-identical beasts pacing behind the outer bars. Massive, hairy, four-legged creatures, behemoths in their own right, with razor-sharp fangs like the saber-toothed tiger. Each harbored white matted fur like the polar bear, spread thick along hide and limbs but sporting a long, muscular trunk, like a prehistoric elephant’s protruding from the fanged snout. Regers guessed this was useful for bashing obstinate predators, projectiles, trees or any other impediments.
The iron bars lifted. The first brute was released into the test ground. It loped in sidling fashion, massive head swinging from side to side toward the creek. The beast halted on three legs, lifting one to sniff at the air. A minute later, the other creature lumbered forth, released from its cage. It approached warily and assessed its rival. The mechnobots veered in, hovering above the ground to study the two intruders, at this time evincing only curiosity. The wall slab slid back, cutting the beasts off from their cages.
“What the hell are those things?” demanded Deakes, his eyes watering.
“The test subjects are ursilars,” said Dez, “a cross between an ice age cave bear and mastodon, both whose DNA we dug up in old paleolithic sites in remote glacial areas on Earth. Extremely territorial, violent and deadly. You would not want to be in there with them, Deakes. It’s unlikely that even your blaster could take out one before it charged you and ripped you to shreds. No predator alive today can take down an ursilar, nor would any in its day, except maybe one of its own kind. That’s why we have two to make the arena more interesting.” Dez gave a dry chuckle. “Needless to say it cost us mega yols to bio-generate these beasts, cross their DNA in effective ways and incubate those that you see before you.”
Jennings opened his mouth to say something but Dez waved him off. “Not now, Jennings. Just watch.” The CEO’s voice achieved a pitch of higher intensity.
The first ursilar paused from its crouch at the creek, lapping up the fresh water. Turning, it gave a low growl. The two beasts circled each other.
Dez cackled in triumph. “Both are alpha males. Yet one has the aggressive edge. See! The blood-matted fur on the other’s pelt is fresh and the area behind its ears and back of the neck, is even fresher.”
The ursilars sprang at each other, rearing on their hind legs. They batted and swatted at each other with killing force, such that Jennings went rigid in response to the clarity of the video feed. Claws distended and curled to rend fur and flesh, as each sought out necks and vulnerable bellies.
The mechnos glided in within a few feet to observe the altercation as soon as the beasts’ struggles brought them dangerously close to the fresh water stream. The weaker one’s left hind foot sloshed in the shallows. A stimulus.
Dez sprang up on the balls of his feet. “The moths perceive a threat to their small, stable environment! Watch! If the one beast kills the other, its blood may contaminate the water supply. Maybe even drag the other’s grimy, matted fur in deeper.”
Mechno #1 swooped in with impressive speed to bash the lead beast out of the water. The beast rolled and lurched up on its hind legs then swatted out a clawed paw at the mechno. Mechno #2 bunted the other
