| |
Hubcap held his lasso at the ready, just waiting for the signal. This was infinitely more fun than throwing life preservers on ropes, which was the bulk of his experience. He knew how to do a proper lasso, and he considered it a pity that he’d only ever needed to do it once, during a flood. He’d done himself proud that time, lassoing the leg of an upturned table that a semiconscious human had clung to. While that was undeniably grand, this promised to be better. Dinosaur-looking alien beasties beat table legs any day.
And it would make for excellent television if he had anything to say about it. There was no way he’d spend the rest of his career pandering to big-headed humans who did stupid things for money.
“All right,” Owen whispered, “Wait for it, just until Fern gets up to that ridge.” He peered around a boulder next to Hubcap and Elliot, with one camera behind them and others stationed at different rocks.
Hubcap looked to see who he meant, and spotted a tall figure with armor painted in brown camouflage moving in a flurry of quiet footsteps across the sandstone. When the woman got into position, Owen began twirling his lasso.
Hubcap wasted no time in stepping to the side and spinning his own rope into the air. Elliot had to back away from the both of them for his own attempt. The human’s result was of course lackluster at best, but Hubcap wouldn’t hold it against him. Other lassos were whirling, and the spear bird was just raising its head to notice.
Owen yelled “Go!”
Hubcap flung the lasso with all his concentration. It landed with the other professional efforts around the spear bird’s neck. Then his attention turned to bracing his feet on the sandy rocks and hauling on the rope while the gigantic animal protested its capture. Wingbeats blew sand everywhere, making Hubcap regret not taking a helmet. He blinked his wiper panels down to shield his eye sensors from the worst of the grit, still able to make out basic shapes through their translucency. Then human workers piled on to the spear bird’s wings and the air stilled.
Hubcap opened his eyes to see the creature struggling mightily against the humans. Owen hauled on his own rope and yelled commands. Elliot tossed aside the lasso that had missed its target, and cautiously joined the workers in attempting to pin the wings down. Hubcap held his rope taut as the spear bird tossed its head. He let out a cowboy whoop and edged closer.
Other workers jumped on, with someone brave closing in on the head. Owen yelled more directions while the muscular local looped the rope under his foot and put all his weight on it, driving the beast’s head down. The man slid closer, keeping carefully out of reach while pulling the rope further under his foot, then the bird lunged and the rope pulled free.
The armored man didn’t have time to react as the long neck snapped forward and the toothy maw bit down on his helmeted face.
Hubcap’s thoughts flew to damage control as he leapt to yank on the rope. He hadn’t heard the helmet crack yet. Other workers yelled and dogpiled the spear bird, driving it to the ground while it worked its jaws against the helmet, teeth grating. As its legs were knocked out from under it, the bird whipped its powerful neck to smash the captive human against the ground in a move that would have crushed the skull of many a prey animal.
Hubcap abandoned his rope and dove for the creature’s head, prying apart the jaws with metal fingers impervious to the teeth.
The human was already struggling free. “I’m okay!” he said, twisting to throw himself across the spear bird’s beak. Other armored figures joined him, and in moments the creature was pinned. A facejack and bag were deployed with impressive speed. Hubcap grabbed onto a rope where it looped around the neck and held on while the spear bird retched.
As one worker whipped off the facejack and bag, another appeared at Hubcap’s elbow to tug the lassos forward. Hubcap released his hold and lay across the neck while the armored figure worked the ropes free.
“It’s chalked and done!” someone yelled. “Ready, set, OFF!”
Hubcap sprang to his feet, waiting to see that the injured worker was running easily before sprinting to safety himself. He bolted for the nearest sandstone ridge with an eye on the spear bird. The creature shook itself and launched into the sky.
Hubcap scanned the area with a glance: all the humans were standing, none looked hurt, and the cameras were rolling. Success.
“Woo!” he cheered, hiding his relief. “Good job, team! And way to take it in the face, Nameless Guy! What is your name, anyway?”
The group converged on the man with the vicious scrapes across his armor. He tugged his helmet off with a rueful grin and a wince, proclaiming himself a bit shaken with a sore neck, but otherwise none the worse for the wear. The armor had good shock absorption and neck support.
Owen called for someone to bring out a medical kit anyway. Elliot and the camera crew gathered close.
“I’m Sanjay,” the man said as he applied a cold compress to his neck. The medic gave him a once-over with a handheld scanner and nodded at the results.
“Well done, Sanjay,” Hubcap told him. He put an arm around the man’s shoulders and posed for the camera, taking care not to jostle his injuries while singing his praises. “Putting your body on the line for the good of all! Did that helmet take any honorable war wounds for you? Oh my, yes.” He plucked the helmet from Sanjay’s hand to show the cameras. It was clear where his face had hit the rough ground.
Elliot whistled. “The visor might need a little polish.”
Sanjay shrugged. “Maybe a little.”
“At least it wasn’t your skin!” Hubcap exclaimed. “That doesn’t polish well at all!”
The other workers chuckled and congratulated the man on his successful survival. Hubcap saw Owen looking around at the empty beach, and wasn’t surprised when the crew chief suggested that they move on. Daylight was a-wasting.
When Owen asked the scouts to take a look, Vic spoke up. “I saw something big from up on the rocks,” she said, pointing further south. “What do those springmouth snakes look like exactly?”
Owen said, “They’re huge and black-with-gray, slimy looking. With weird jaws. Was that them? How far away?”
“A few minutes walk, assuming the commotion didn’t scare them away. We can probably still see from here.” She pointed toward the high rocky area that she had been filming from earlier.
“Race you to the top!” Hubcap said to no one in particular. He darted forward while Owen cautioned him to stay out of sight. Several people followed.
Hubcap scrambled atop the highest boulder. All those holes made for good handholds. Owen and Elliot were hot on his heels while Hubcap peered over the edge in search of alien monsters.
Laid out before him was empty landscape, with weird rocks close to the sea and plains covered in purple grass up above. Wind pulled at him. In the distance, dark snaky shapes writhed.
“They’re moving away,” Owen said, taking a position beside Hubcap and shading his eyes. “Probably to the sunning area over the next ridge. It’s a big patch of dark rocks that will be getting warm before too long. Let’s be off!” He started scrambling down. “The aircar is too loud, so we’ll have to hoof it. The mud flats will be faster than all those boulders, though not by much.”
“Mud flats, you say.” Hubcap followed him down.
Owen was still talking. “Unless I miss my guess, those looked like adolescent males. Just small enough to handle, while just big enough to be a challenge! You should like this part,” he said to Hubcap. He clapped his hands at the crowd. “To the mud flats!” More than a few groans sounded, but the workers dutifully gathered their things and moved out.
Hubcap walked alongside Elliot. The camera crew stowed their equipment in the triple-strap backpacks they wore just for uncertain footing like this, freeing their hands. Hubcap nodded in silent approval and turned his attention to the path that ran along the sandstone ridge toward its lowest end. It was there that the mud came into view. Rocky ground tapered off into a spill of dirt from the grasslands above, which appeared to have mixed with the puddled seawater to produce mud that was the perfect consistency to suck boots off of feet. Soupy brown goo awaited them, with occasional rocks sticking up like ineffective handholds. Owen was already striding gamely forward.
“Ah,” Hubcap said. “Those mud flats.”
A couple of the cameras started rolling again while the workers plodded into the muck. Their footsteps made noises that were sure to entertain more than a few viewers back home.
Hubcap clapped Elliot on the back. “Well, I hope you laced your robo-skin shoes tight,” he said. “Don’t be losing one, now.” He hopped over a rock and tested the slipperiness of the mud.
“They don’t have laces,” Elliot said. “These things have some very high-tech buckles, I’ll have you know.”
“I’m happy for you, fleshface!” Hubcap strutted ahead with confidence. “Hurry up!”
“You’re going the right way for a mudball to the back of the head, you know,” Elliot admonished.
Hubcap flashed him a grin, saying nothing. He waited for his co-host to join him.
Elliot spoke into Dale’s camera. “Watch him carefully. If he falls in the mud before I do, I get to laugh at him.” He switched to Tarja’s camera. “A lot. With maniacal glee. Don’t let me down, now.” With that, he turned and continued forward.
Hubcap chuckled and caught up with the experts.
The experts, as it turned out, didn’t have a much better time of it than the newcomers. The depth of the mud varied without warning, going from ankle-deep to thigh-deep between one step and the next. Progress was slow, with everyone having to feel their way along, and even then there were more than a few stumbles. Great care was given not to drop the supplies.
This was of special concern to the camera crew, who gave up on filming with the big cameras right away. The few seconds of unfortunate nosedives would have to do. The cameras were packed away in favor of several hands-free headcams.
Hubcap, of course, took no tumbles into the mud. He showed appropriate humility about his superior balance, pointing and laughing from a shallow patch when yet another human made a spectacular pratfall. Mud painted his legs brown, but it would dry up and flake away soon enough.
Elliot waded over to where Hubcap was slapping his metal knees in laughter. “If you’re quite done,” the human said with dignity. “We have a show to film.” He walked past, deliberately high-stepping to free his feet.
Hubcap just laughed more, pointing in another direction. “This is good TV right here. I don’t know what you’re talking abou— Augh!” He was interrupted as Elliot shoved him from behind, lifting with his knees to counteract the robot’s superhuman balance.
It was just barely enough. The mud caught at Hubcap’s feet, and he went sprawling into a deep puddle. His face clanked against a rock, but he got up laughing like everyone else.
“Am I missing an eyebrow?” he asked, holding a muddy hand away from his face.
“Actually yeah, I think it snapped off,” Elliot told him.
Hubcap stopped laughing. “What?” He cast about in rising panic for the missing eyebrow until Elliot admitted that he was joking.
“I got you good!” Elliot said, edging away. “You deserved that.”
“All right then, if that’s how you want to play it,” Hubcap said with an ominous smile. He bent and flung a spray of mud at the cackling human. Elliot managed to dodge the worst of it, though his side was splattered brown.
“Come on kids, you can make mud pies after work,” Owen called with a smile in his voice. “Besides, you’ll scare off the snakes.”
Hubcap made a half-lunge toward Elliot just to see him flinch, then pointed in silent laughter and made childish taunting gestures as the human shook a fist at him. Behind the pair, Dale squelched down into the mud.
Instead of getting up, he flailed wildly.
“Ahh! Get it off!”
Hubcap whirled and saw tentacles.