Chapter Two

Scientific Vessel SV-LE-3872

Rachel Fortier slumped inside the stiff confines of her fully deployed spacesuit, strapped in place by a heavy safety harness, breathing recycled air, and half dozing in boredom. She’d been trapped in her cabin, wearing the bulky suit for what felt like hours, unable to get comfortable, and waiting for the all-clear signal. Commander Ripper had blasted over the intercom, ordering everyone into their suits and warning that the ship was about to drop onto the planet, which meant transiting Harp’s tricky atmosphere with its weird electromagnetic phenomenon. Rachel wasn’t a physicist, but she understood enough to know that this was the most dangerous part of their trip. There was a fifty-fifty chance that their engines would simply shut down and they’d find themselves free-falling to the surface. Which was a nice way of saying they’d crash and burn…and die.

Although, she figured their odds of a safe landing were probably better than 50 percent by now. The fleet had been sending shuttles to Harp for nearly two years, and there was a fleet science center on the planet. She assumed that meant they’d been gathering data for that long, because that’s what the fleet did. By now, they must have learned a thing or two about safely transiting Harp’s risky atmosphere. But a forty-sixty chance of a crash-and-burn, while somewhat better, wasn’t exactly comforting.

Her thoughts eased some tension she’d been feeling about their descent but did nothing to relieve the boredom. Especially now, when it seemed they’d made it through the worst part of the ride down. It had been damn rough at first, and at one point, she’d been convinced the ship was going to break apart around them. But according to the readout on her suit, that had been nearly half an hour ago, and somehow, they’d survived. There was still the occasional hard bump, but for the most part, their transit had become fairly smooth.

She was just beginning to wonder if maybe the intercom had been damaged in the descent and she was the only one still in her cabin, stewing in her spacesuit while the rest of the crew was already enjoying a hot shower, when suddenly the pitch of the engines changed. Her eyes flashed open, and she “listened” with all her senses. A second later, the ship changed angles, and she detected another shift in engine noise. Where before there’d been the typical constant roar, threaded through with a high whine that made her ears hurt, the sound had now shifted to the quieter hum associated with maneuvering control.

She’d no sooner had the thought than Ripper’s voice came over the intercom, giving the all-clear to ditch their suits and move around. Rachel popped the seals on her helmet first, then hit the release on her safety harness as she sucked in a greedy lungful of the cabin’s relatively fresher air. She had an arm up, smelling her pit and thinking she needed a fucking shower, when her cabin door slid open and Ripper stuck her head through with her usual disregard for privacy.

“You can ditch the suit, Fortier, but stick to your cabin for a while yet. The crew’s pretty busy, and you’ll only be in the way.”

In the way? Fuck you very much. Ripper was gone before Rachel could voice her thoughts, for all the good it would have done. She probably wouldn’t have gone wandering the damn halls, anyway. This wasn’t exactly her first rodeo, and as a xenobiologist and civilian planetary specialist, her job wouldn’t actually begin until the ship was settled. But she was hardly a novice when it came to space travel. She was tempted to take a stroll, just to prove she could and maybe irritate Ripper in the process. But, instead, she stripped off her sweaty clothes and took a shower, using all the water she wanted. Now that they were on-planet, there was no reason to conserve their limited supply with thimble-size showers. Harp had plenty of water, fed by underground springs that, in turn, were fed by glacial run-off from a permanently frozen polar ice cap. No planet could produce a green belt like this one without a lot of water.

She soaped up and washed away the sweat, eager now that the real mission was finally beginning. This was what scientific discovery was supposed to be, this excited anticipation of seeing and doing new things, of being on a planet where humans had been living undiscovered for half a millennium. Imagine the genetic possibilities. How big was the population, and how had they avoided destructive inbreeding? Interesting questions, but even more exciting, from her point of view, was the wildlife within the planet’s green belt. They were said to be exceptionally vicious and deadly, so much so that no one was allowed to venture in among the trees without a proper escort.

That wouldn’t pose a problem for her. She had as much or more expeditionary time as any crewmember on this ship and would match her experience against theirs in a heartbeat. In fact, while most of the crew were friendly enough, none of them talked much about where they’d worked before joining this mission to study Harp’s animal life-forms. The only thing obvious to Rachel was that they were all former military.

Rachel’s credentials, on the other hand, were an open book. She was one of the most sought-after planetary specialists in the private sector. An admitted overachiever from a family of distinguished academics going back generations, she had two PhDs—in xenobiology and chemistry—and a Doctorate in Veterinary Medicine, with an emphasis on xenomorphology. On official records, it was her scientific accomplishments that counted. But in practical terms, it was her broader, experiential credentials that made her so attractive as an expeditionary leader. She was a two-fer—a proper academic, but with all the survival skills of a military-trained planetary specialist.

She was qualified to deal with all kinds of hostile environments, had considerable experience in the same, and had assumed those two factors had influenced Guy Wolfrum’s decision to hire her. That’s right. Guy fucking Wolfrum was this mission’s leader, and he’d hired her to study Harp’s animal life, especially the huge, predatory cats who sat on top of the planet’s food chain. He was a giant in the field of xenobiology and had served as Chief Science Officer on United Earth’s biggest exploratory fleet, serving under Admiral Nakata. Nakata’s fleet was legendary, so it had surprised a lot of people when, just under two years ago, Wolfrum had resigned his commission to live on Harp. Rumor was that he’d done it for love, and he had married a Harp woman. But Rachel couldn’t imagine a man of his accomplishments walking away from his career if the planet hadn’t also represented a truly untouched treasure trove of potential scientific discovery.

Of course, Harp was a tightly closed planet, which meant virtually no scientific data had been gathered since its rediscovery. At least, none that had been published off-planet. But she didn’t believe for a minute that Guy Wolfrum had been sitting on his hands for nearly two years doing nothing other than enjoying the Harp version of marital bliss. Even if she couldn’t share whatever she learned from this trip, or from Wolfrum himself, it represented an unequaled opportunity. A pristine planet which had somehow made life possible for humans. She was eager to finally meet the legendary scientist in person and exchange notes. All their communications thus far had, of necessity, been written, since he lived on-planet and Harp had such restrictive policies.

But while, for Rachel, it was a scientist’s dream, she seemed to be the only crew member excited about it. In fact, despite their vessel’s scientific designator, none of her fellow crewmen seemed to have any scientific specialties at all. There were no lab facilities on board, and her gentle prodding had produced no evidence of scientific backgrounds. In fact, if it hadn’t been Guy Wolfrum himself who’d recruited her, she’d have been suspicious about their mission. As it was, she had a million questions once he finally joined them.

Assuming Ripper ever let anyone leave the damn ship.

…

The Planet Harp

Aidan lay motionless, his golden coat concealed by the dappled pattern of sunlight and cloud through the trees. Those trees were now whispering restlessly, unhappy with this metal invader in their midst. The ship hadn’t done anything overtly threatening yet, and so, just as the forest didn’t ring planetwide alerts about every local storm or out of control predator, the warning remained targeted at the one who could do something about it. Which was Aidan. Had he not been already on scene, the warning would have traveled farther, most likely to Clanhome.

The Green had a very symbiotic relationship with its shifters. Unlike anyone else on Harp, they weren’t visitors to the planet; they were part of its ecosystem. It didn’t matter that, minus a very few exceptions, every human living on Harp had been born here. Only shifters were of Harp, right down to their DNA. And because they were part of the planet, the Green protected them, just as it did itself. Which was why the warning would have traveled to Clanhome with its large population of shifters—both as a warning and a plea for help.

Aidan had been sitting on the same branch for hours, through a morning rainstorm and the midday clearing. But he was a born predator. He could remain still for hours more if that’s what it took. He stared hard at the invading ship, taking in the smallest detail.

He’d never been on a ship in space, had never been off planet, and had no desire to do so, but that didn’t mean he was ignorant. Every member of the Guild—which represented the best hunters and the sharpest minds among Harp’s shifters—was well versed in the scientific facts of space travel. And their new fleet-built computing and science facility included a thoroughly updated database on the weapons and modes of transportation available to potential invaders. Shifters had a duty to protect the planet from all threats, and they took that duty seriously.

This ship, which had somehow snuck onto Harp and landed far away from the city, was no shuttle. Its pocked and pitted surface spoke of a hard passage through the atmosphere, just like the shuttles which visited regularly, but the engines which had finally shut down were much larger and more efficient, and, as he’d suspected, definitely faster-than-light or FTL capable. He’d been right about the weapons, too. The ship was bristling with them.

That, coupled with a landing far away from the city, added up to secrecy and collusion with someone in the science center. The question was why? Harp didn’t possess any rare or valuable resources for invaders to steal. It was the reason the fleet had been so accommodating in granting them the closed planet designation. Why, then, would a bunch of Earthers—and he was assuming that’s what they were, based on the ship’s overall design—want to make a secret trip to Harp? There had to be something they wanted here. Something they knew Harpers wouldn’t want to give up.

The answer, or at least the beginnings of an answer, lay with the people on that ship. But although he’d been watching the damn thing for hours, no one had so much as poked a nose outside. It simply sat there, under power, wasting energy it apparently had plenty of, while the sun slid down the horizon and the shade deepened among the trees. Aidan wondered if they were planning a nighttime mission, hoping to use the cover of darkness to conceal their activities. And then he wondered if they understood just how dangerous Harp was at night. Or maybe they were aware and were waiting for an early morning start tomorrow to pursue whatever nefarious plot had brought them here.

Or maybe not.

The forest around him grew abruptly silent a mere instant before the hiss of vacuum seals brought Aidan’s big head off his paws. His eyes sharpened, his gaze on the shaded belly of the ship, where a rim of white light now outlined a slowly opening door. A ramp deployed as the hatch dropped open, and he caught a glimpse of a brightly lit interior before someone started to walk down.

His cat eyes didn’t have the ability to widen in surprise, but if they did, they’d have popped out of his head. Only one person was descending to the forest floor—a lovely woman with a cap of curly, dark hair and a long, slim body. Slim, but strong, as attested by the way her formfitting pants hugged firm thighs and a flat belly, not to mention the delectable swell of her breasts beneath a snug, long-sleeved top.

“Focus, you idiot!” his own voice chided him mentally, reminding him why he was here. Not that he’d forgotten for even a minute. There was nothing wrong with admiring a fine, female form. In fact, he was something of a connoisseur of female forms, having enjoyed close, personal contact with a wide variety and on many occasions.

But not this one.

This one came from an unknown ship that had chosen to land secretly and might very well be a harbinger of more danger to come.

The woman reached the bottom of the ramp and paused, her head doing a slow turn as she scanned the trees circling the meadow, her eyes searching…for what? It was the smart thing to do in any new environment, but especially in the Green, where danger could lurk in a hundred different places. But what did this uninvited guest know about the Green? More than she should have, since she and her shipmates had known how to land without causing a crisis. But not nearly enough, he would wager, because this was the fucking Green. Norms who’d lived on Harp their entire lives couldn’t survive out here without shifter assistance.

The woman raised a hand to one of the ramp supports and smiled as she gazed out onto the surrounding forest, her head tilted slightly. That smile did something to Aidan’s gut. It wasn’t the smile of an invader, of someone come to do harm, but one of delight and anticipation. As if she liked everything she was seeing and could hardly wait to explore.

He narrowed his eyes, hardening his resolve against being overly influenced by her appearance. If she’d been a man, would he still be seeing the same innocence in her expression? Lids came down over his eyes in a long, slow blink. Yes, he thought he probably would. And that realization confused him because there was no doubt that she didn’t belong here.

Heavy footsteps sounded a moment before she twisted sharply to look over her shoulder, her expression shifting to one of greater caution. More people appeared, but unlike the woman’s easy stroll down the ramp, these new invaders strode toward the forest floor in a disciplined group. The woman took a sideways jump off the end of the ramp to avoid being run over, her face lightening briefly in a combination of surprise and amusement. Amusement quickly fled, replaced by bland courtesy when the leader of the new group stopped to snap out what sounded like a command. The woman nodded in agreement, but as the invaders started across the meadow, her expression was filled with rebellion.

Aidan’s attention followed hers, shifting to watch the larger group. They all wore the same uniform-like grey pants and shirts with heavy boots. Their shirts bore no insignia or rank patches, but there was no doubt in his mind that these were soldiers. They moved as one, with precision and discipline, responding to the barked commands of the leader—a woman of average height, who was blocky with muscle and had her hair cut so close to her scalp that he couldn’t tell what color it would be.

These soldiers were the true danger delivered by that fucking ship. Aidan didn’t know how the other woman fit in, but she had to be a part of it somehow. She was on their damn crew, wasn’t she?

He was torn. He desperately wanted to know more about the ship, and the woman, too. But he couldn’t afford to let a pack of invading soldiers roam his planet at will. Around him, the Green had taken note of these new invaders. Where the trees initially had been cautiously watchful, there was now a shiver of foreboding and growing alarm. They remembered previous human visitors, remembered the tremendous damage a few Earthers had inflicted with a single careless act.

It was the woman who made Aidan’s decision for him. With a middle-fingered salute at the departing troop, she gave a last lingering look at the forest, and then thumped back up into the ship, slapping the hatch control as soon as she’d cleared the opening.

And there went his chances of slipping onboard for a quick look around.

His head turned, his gaze easily picking out the invaders moving across the clearing with what they probably considered to be stealth. They’d reach the trees soon. There were no clear paths in that part of the forest, and the shadows beneath the trees would grow darker with every step they took, making their headlong march far more difficult. Aidan could track them easily enough, though it would be more difficult if they decided to split up. He could still do it, but it would have been easier if he’d had at least one of his cousins along.

He frowned, tempted to add his own warning to the one already humming through the trees, one which would alert his cousins to the possible danger. But he decided against it for now. Thus far, the Earthers hadn’t done anything particularly threatening. He rose to his feet and made an effortless leap upward, circling around the tree until he reached the far heights of the forest, where branches were so thickly intertwined that they formed a solid road through the treetops.

With a final glance at the closed hatch of the ship, he took off after his prey.

…

Rachel left her cabin door a little bit open the next day as she gathered her gear, listening to her shipmates as they traveled up and down the passageway. She made no apologies for eavesdropping. It was the only way she could learn anything about their march into the forest yesterday. They may have thought they were being stealthy, but it was obvious to her that none of them were trained in wildlife observation. They’d marched away like a conquering army, probably frightening away whatever animals they’d hope to observe. And they’d left her behind, which made no sense at all. She was the xenobiologist, the only one of them, as far as she could tell, who knew anything about studying non-Earth life-forms, or any life-forms, for that matter. But now that they’d made planetfall, the same crew who’d been so friendly during the journey here, the ones who’d laughed over meals and sweated with her in the gym, had become studiously uncommunicative. It was as if they’d suddenly lost the ability to speak. At least to her. It was the opposite of what she usually experienced. A lot of the scientists she’d escorted in the past had been tense and even frightened during the dangerous transit to a new location, but once they landed safely, they always fell back on their scientific training and shared her enthusiasm for a new world to explore.

But not this time. With every averted glance, every unanswered question, she was more convinced that this mission was not what she’d been led to believe. Commander Ripper and her people weren’t scientists of any stripe, and they weren’t here for the joy of discovery. She didn’t know why exactly they were here yet, but she was certain that it wasn’t something she would have agreed to be involved in. Which made her wonder why Wolfrum had enlisted her in the first place. Had he simply needed her academic credentials to bolster his grant application? It wouldn’t be the first time that someone had included names on a proposal just for the sake of appearances. But if that was case, why her? He was Guy fucking Wolfrum—he could have gotten anyone he wanted to stick their name on a proposal without the expense of flying them all the way to Harp.

She’d tried to reach Wolfrum directly. Now that they were on the same planet, with him only a few miles away, communication should have been easy. Unfortunately, there was very little that was easy about Harp. The same electromagnetic anomaly that had made their planetary descent so perilous also wreaked havoc with any kind of electronic gear, including communication devices. Nothing would work, not even a simple two-way radio.

As for anything more complex, Wolfrum’s limits on what equipment she could bring along, some of which had excluded gear that she’d previously considered irreplaceable, now made sense. She’d brought her personal computer, of course. But on Wolfrum’s advice, she hadn’t attempted to turn it on since they’d landed. One of her fellow crewmen had ignored the warning, and his computer was now fried. Ripper had, er, ripped the guy a new asshole over it. Apparently, the planet’s reaction would have been far more catastrophic if they hadn’t been within the ship’s shielding. If, for example, the errant crew member had decided to sit outside in the sunshine and type up some notes, it could have been bad. Really bad. Rachel had been tempted to do exactly that yesterday afternoon, when Ripper and the rest of the crew had left her alone to mind the ship. She thought it would be okay if she disabled the comm functions and only used her computer as a glorified typewriter.

Thankfully, she’d erred on the side of caution and written her notes by hand instead, saving not only her computer, but all of the research it contained. She was more than a little pissed, actually, that Wolfrum hadn’t been more categorical in his warnings. Why hadn’t he bothered to share his two years-worth of experience living here? Harpers would have grown up with the restrictions, but Wolfrum would have known from experience the pitfalls awaiting someone who’d grown up with Earth technology, especially when it came to scientific research.

So this morning, armed with a pad of ordinary paper and some pencils, she was heading out to take notes the old-fashioned way when the thump of boots on the metal floor of the passageway drew her attention. She paused just inside her cabin and listened. It sounded as if they were all heading out again to do whatever the hell they’d done yesterday. One thing she knew for damn sure—she was not going to be stuck babysitting the ship again. She didn’t give a damn what fucking Ripper said. Now that they were on the ground, the commander had no authority over Rachel or her tasks. She’d been hired by Wolfrum to explore the planet and study its apex predators, and that’s what she intended to do.

As if drawn by the thought of her name, Ripper pushed the cabin door open without even the fake courtesy of a knock, nearly running into Rachel. Putting one foot over the threshold, she said, “You’re on watch again today, Fortier. Keep the hatch closed, and we’ll be back before sunset.” She didn’t wait for a response, just dropped her hand from the door and stepped back into the passageway to follow her crew.

Rachel stepped into the hall and glared after her for all of ten seconds. “Fuck that,” she muttered. Ripper was trying to sideline her for some reason, to keep her away from whatever they were doing when they marched into the shadows beneath the trees. What were they doing? And exactly what the galactic fuck was going on?

Well, whatever it was, it was going to stop right now. She was a scientist, and this was her mission. She’d do them the courtesy of not straying too far, just in case there was a medical emergency, especially since there wasn’t a doctor among the crew. Granted, her degree was in veterinary medicine and her specialty was xenobiology—that is, the study of non-Earth life-forms—but critical care principles were the same for all animals. She’d treated plenty of human animals on her previous missions.

But that was the extent of her cooperation. She was a fully-trained, expedition-capable researcher, and it was about time she acted like one.

She waited long enough for the others to be well away from the ship, then made her way up to the bridge. The engines were all shut down; just a trickle of power remained active. Enough to keep environmental control and the various monitoring systems working. Crossing to the science station, she brought up the exterior cameras, then zoomed in on the crew as they moved into the trees on the other side of the clearing. She counted heads, making sure everyone was there, and then switched the screen back to where she’d found it, which happened to be environmental status. It was ironic, really. She hadn’t been invited to the bridge even as an observer while they’d been in transit. But now that they’d made planetfall and had something else to do—presumably something they considered more important—she was suddenly good enough to be on watch. She ought to do a quick liftoff and move the shuttle to a new location, something a few miles away. That would show them. And she could do it, too. One of the courses she’d had to take in order to qualify for extraterrestrial missions was a basic course in FTL-capable ship operation and navigation. No one expected private specialists like herself to pilot a ship into battle, but if worse came to worse, she had to be able, at the very minimum, to maintain life support and send out a distress signal. Rachel could do better than that. It might take a little bit of study, given the weird dual engine setup on this ship, but she was smart and intuitive. She’d figure it out eventually. And then Ripper would come back to…nothing. The image that idea conjured up, the expression on their faces…it cheered Rachel immensely.

Unfortunately, she didn’t have time to be moving ships around this morning. She wasn’t writing off the possibility, but not today. Because she was going to do a little exploring of her own.

Going back to her cabin, she checked her weapons first. She was a scientist, with a duty to do no harm, but that didn’t mean she couldn’t defend herself. Given Harp’s restriction on any kind of plasma or electronic weapon, she’d brought a double-draw crossbow along with a supply of bolts. It was small enough for her to carry easily, but modified to notch two bolts at once, each firing independently. And, as always, she had her combat knife, which was a seven-inch fixed blade of carbon steel. The knife was carried in a leather sheath on her hip, and it was something she’d included in her kit for years. One never knew when a good knife would come in handy. For this trip, she’d stowed a second knife in her boot, as well. She still felt somewhat naked without the lightweight plasma rifle she typically carried, but she was armed with the standard capture gun used to study wildlife on a variety of planets. It was loaded with powerful tranquilizer darts, although she didn’t anticipate using it. Her mission on this planet was to observe only. Still, it didn’t hurt to have a weapon handy. Her goal was always to avoid hostile confrontations with native species, but she’d had to defend herself more than once against a local beastie who didn’t want to be observed.

Grabbing the backpack she’d already put together, she made her way down to the landing deck. The hatch opened with a rush of warm, wet air, rich with the scents of green, growing things. Rachel had traveled extensively, including to more than a few distant planets and space stations, but she didn’t think she’d ever smelled anything quite so…fertile as the air on Harp.

She was smiling when she walked out from under the belly of the ship and lifted her face to the warm sunlight. There was the scent of fresh rain in the air, confirming what the sensors had already told her. It was spring in this hemisphere of the planet. The daytime temperatures should be quite warm, with some light rain, though it could still get cold enough at night to be uncomfortable without proper protection.

But while the sun felt terrific on her upraised face, time was wasting, and she had things to do. Who knew how long before Ripper and the crew came marching back? Walking to the ramp, she sealed it against casual intruders, then moved out from under the ship’s belly and into the sunlight, where she turned in a full circle and looked around. There was so much to see, to study, and to watch out for. She found herself longing for the support of a real science team. It was unusual to have a lone researcher on such a difficult and dangerous task. She hadn’t really discussed it with any of the crew but had assumed at least some of them would be assigned to share her mission, even if only to provide security. She was increasingly convinced, however, that Ripper’s mission and hers had nothing in common. Whatever the commander and her crew were doing on their daily marches, it wasn’t science or research.

She frowned then shook her head in dismissal. There was nothing she could do about the Ripper situation. She was here, and she was going to make the most of it. She reached down for the small nav computer she always used, but of course it wasn’t there. The technological limitations of Harp didn’t stop at pulsed weapons. Anything that utilized a laser was specifically prohibited on the planet. Not because they wouldn’t work reliably, although they wouldn’t, but because their energy could interact with the planet’s atmosphere and cause catastrophic damage. Everyone on the ship had been required to view video of the devastation caused by the earliest visitors who’d chosen to ignore the prohibition. The damage was so widespread that it could be seen from space. Not even Ripper could ignore that kind of destructive potential.

Rachel slowly crossed the clearing in the opposite direction from the crew’s heading, aiming for the thick trees at the clearing’s edge. She’d taken only a few steps in among their crowded trunks before she had to stop because she was very simply…overwhelmed. This was heaven. A living, breathing heaven, filled with so much life! It was amazing. Everywhere she looked, there was something growing. Even the trees were a revelation. So much variety in type and size, from slender, green shoots just barely getting started, to enormous giants with trunks so thick that she was unable to walk all the way around them because of the riotous growth at their base. Vines climbed everywhere, straining for the sunlight, which was filtered and far away, barely seen through the tops of the tallest trees.

But her true fascination was with the animals that she could hear scurrying through the undergrowth and scrambling over the rough bark of the trees. The ones she could see didn’t seem bothered by her at all, as if she posed no threat. That was unusual in her experience, and anything unusual only raised more questions in her researcher’s mind.

A small, furry something scratched its way to the lowest branch of a nearby tree, putting it at eye level with her. She watched the little beast curiously, touching the eye shields she wore that doubled as both safety glass and sunglass, verifying they were in their proper place. The lenses had been tested against some of the most corrosive fluids in the universe. She had no reason to think Harp’s poisons would be any different. She took the added precaution of pulling the gator neckline up on her shirt to cover her lower face. The fabric was similarly treated for protection.

The furry creature glared at her from green-tinted eyes, then chittered angrily and raced away, scurrying along the low branch, before leaping into the next tree. She laughed in delight, even as she automatically catalogued the interlocking limbs of the trees from the lowest to the very highest part of the forest. Her gaze dropped to the ground, with its tangled growth of vines and plants, and then back up to the treetops. She’d bet anything that the more successful animals used the trees to move quickly through the forest. And that meant the most dangerous predators, including the big cats she’d been tasked with studying, would be up there, too.

As if the idea of predators conjured them up, she suddenly had the strongest sense of being watched, a weird itch on the back of her neck, as if some great hunter was studying her with an eye toward picking the juiciest part to nibble on. She tilted her head back again, staring upward, turning in a circle as her eyes strained to see through the tangled branches. But it was impossible. She stared a while longer, then shrugged and set about her work. She wanted to get as much done as she could before the rest of them came back.

…

Aidan crouched down deep among the twisted branches of a great grandfather tree. The trees were increasingly uneasy about these uninvited visitors. Wordless whispers skimmed over the forest tops with a wariness that bordered on fearful. The invaders hadn’t done anything outwardly hostile yet. Hadn’t mistakenly blown away an entire swath of forest or even begun chopping down trees for fire or shelter. Only shifters knew which trees could be safely felled. The trees on Harp were aware. They were the lifeblood of the planet, and Harpers knew enough about the way the universe worked to understand just how unique their Green was. Which was why their forests were one of the secrets they were unwilling to share. That, and the existence of shifters.

And that’s what made Aidan nervous. He didn’t believe for one minute that these very militant looking invaders had come to Harp to study the foliage, but what they had done made no sense to him. They’d left their ship the past two mornings and marched off across the clearing, before eventually delving deep among the trees…where they’d done nothing useful at all that he could see. They’d marched around, muttered among themselves, and taken readings on some sort of handheld devices that seemed to require minimal power. Their path had been a big loop, and they’d gone around, rather than through, any obstacles they encountered, such as particularly heavy patches of undergrowth, or vines that were twisted so thickly between the trees that they were impassable.

They hadn’t shot or killed anything. Although, Aidan’s presence in the treetops had kept the lesser predators off their backs, so they hadn’t been threatened by anything that needed killing, either. They’d taken two rest breaks during the day, eaten food from their packs both times, and then completed their loop back to the ship, where they remained until the next morning.

Aidan didn’t like it, but he couldn’t have said why it bothered him.

Today was looking like a repeat of the same, except for one addition. The Earther troop had marched off across the clearing again this morning, but just as he’d circled up into the trees to follow, a hydraulic hiss had pulled his attention back to the ship in time to see the hatch crack open and the ramp lower to the ground.

He paused and stared. It was the woman again. He hadn’t seen her since she’d been ordered back aboard ship that first morning. Was it possible the daily marches were nothing more than an attempt to divert Harp’s defenders away from this woman, who was the true threat? He frowned. The idea didn’t sit right, given her interaction with the other female, who was clearly the commander of the larger troop. But these were strangers, and he might have misread that first confrontation.

He reversed course, gliding through the forest in perfect silence to take up a position above the woman. Who was she? And what the hell was she doing, smiling at that Mauden mouse as if it were a cute little pet? It might be small, but its bite contained a deadly toxin that could stop a person’s heart in seconds. She’d be dead before she even knew she’d been bit.

Fortunately for her, the Mauden registered Aidan’s arrival before it had a chance to do more than chitter angrily at her. And there she stood, watching the thing leap through the trees, seeming completely unaware of the danger she’d been in.

She pulled down the cloth guard she’d been wearing over her mouth. So she wasn’t a complete novice when it came to protection against unknown environments. She smiled to herself—it was a lovely smile—then crouched down to pull a camera and notebook from her bag. When she did, he noted the knife sheathed at her hip, along with a tranq weapon that was a smaller version of the ones carried by her militant shipmates. He approved of the knife. It was a good weapon to have in these woods. Theoretically, the tranq gun was, too. But the sight of it sent the trees’ anxiety over these visitors buzzing over his skin like an electric shock. What, exactly, were they planning to tranquilize with those weapons? And what would they do with their captives?

He sat up abruptly as the distinctive wail of a banshee scout echoed through the forest. The song of the trees warned of approaching danger at the same instant, and only minutes later, a series of escalating banshee wails replied to the scout’s call, signaling the pack’s race to whatever prey the scout had found for them. Aidan hesitated. The banshees were some of the deadliest creatures on Harp, especially for humans. They had the vicious, ripping teeth and long, knife-sharp claws of a carnivore, with a diet that was almost exclusively meat. If the scout had found something for them to kill…it might just be the Earther troop.

For all that they were uninvited and probably up to no good, Aidan wasn’t about to abandon them to become banshee meat. On the other hand… He swung his gaze back to the lone woman on the ground below. If the pack attacked her, she wouldn’t stand a chance. There had to be some way…

A solution struck him, and he started downward, lethal claws digging into the thick bark of the grandfather tree as he circled toward the lower branches, his golden hide blending perfectly in the shifting light so that he wasn’t visible to the woman…until he wanted to be.

Stopping ten feet above her, he glided out onto a wide branch overlooking the section of forest where she was working and stopped. His plan involved letting her see him in all his ferocious glory, with the intention of scaring her back into the safety of her ship. But he was so taken by her serenity as she scribbled notes and took pictures of everything around her, that he crouched low and simply watched.

She was even lovelier up close, with beautiful, golden brown skin and hazel eyes that seemed to reflect the sunlight shining through the trees. She was taller than he’d first thought. Not anywhere near his own six feet, four inches, but still tall for a woman. Her hair was black with red highlights when the sun hit it, and full of curls. Her movements were confident and graceful and, despite her obvious interest in the trees and wildlife, he saw now that she wasn’t foolish enough to touch anything with her bare hands. She was wearing gloves, tightfitting enough that he hadn’t noticed them until he’d drawn closer.

She stiffened abruptly, her hand freezing in midair as she reached toward what she probably thought was a harmless insect. But nothing was harmless in Harp’s forest. What looked like a plump worm was in reality the tentacle of a pseudo-mole, a half-rodent, half-insect creature that hid beneath the low-hanging plants near the forest floor and waited for its prey to be tempted by the worm-like free meal. It couldn’t kill a human, but it would still attack, leaving a painful, stinging welt that would take days to heal.

But Aidan didn’t think it was a realization of the pseudo-mole’s presence that had her stopping mid-reach. She twisted around to stare almost directly up into the tree where he crouched, and then slowly stood to turn and face him. Her gorgeous eyes grew wide, and he could hear the sudden, rapid pounding of her heart, could see her muscles flexing almost involuntarily as her brain made a lightning-quick fight-or-flight calculation. If he’d been hunting her, her worst choice would have been to run. Staying put wouldn’t have saved her life, either, but she might have lived a few minutes longer.

Fortunately for her, she wasn’t on the menu today. He only wanted her to retreat to the safety of her ship, so that he could waste his energy running after her shipmates, in case those banshees were headed their way. But she wasn’t retreating.

“Hey there, big guy,” she said calmly, even as she slipped her camera and notebook into her backpack and placed a hand on the tranq gun which hung on a strap at her waist.

Big guy? What the fuck did she think he was, a giant domesticated house cat?

She took a careful step back and paused, studying him. Her heartbeat had slowed, and she smiled. “You’re a pretty one, aren’t you?”

He blinked slowly. Pretty? Okay, that was one insult too many. He growled low in his throat, a rumbling noise that rose from his chest as his lips drew back to reveal his very unpretty fangs.

Her heart sped into triple time, and she seemed finally to understand her danger. She still didn’t turn and run, too smart or too brave to take that route. But she did edge backward toward the clearing which was a good fifteen yards behind her. The clearing was no protection. If he’d truly been hunting her, she’d have been long dead before she reached it. Luckily, his only goal was to get her out of the forest and back onto her ship. He rose to a half-crouch and took a prowling step out onto the branch, letting her see him completely, opening his mouth wide enough to bare every one of his deadly teeth.

“Okay,” she whispered, as if expecting him to understand at least the intent of her words. “I get it. This is your territory, and you want me gone.” She kept backing up slowly as she spoke, one hand behind her checking for obstacles, the other held low in front of her in a placating gesture. “I’m going, see?”

He dropped back to his belly, and she nodded. “That’s right. I mean you no harm.”

He snorted. As if she could harm him, even if she tried. Her little tranq gun might sting for a few seconds, but nothing more than that.

He rose again and padded onto a branch in the next tree over as she watched closely. “I knew it,” she whispered. “You use the trees to get around. All those intersecting branches. It’s like your own personal highway.”

She was right, but he really needed her to stop observing and to start running away. He took another prowling step in her direction and growled, his gaze unblinking and steady.

“All right, all right,” she grumbled, no longer whispering. “I’m going.” She reached the edge of the clearing and glanced over her shoulder at the ship, but still didn’t turn and run. Her pace quickened, but she didn’t look away from him until she’d hit the shadows beneath the belly of the ship. Walking over to one of the struts, she entered a code that triggered the hatch opening and lowered the ramp.

Aidan watched the inquisitive woman board, then waited until the hatch had closed behind her, before clawing his way back to the treetops and racing off in pursuit of the larger group.