In which large beasts and fresh burials do not mix
A
fter an uneventful few days travel, the Fortune made landfall on the verdant planet of Skagos. Tom took grateful gasps of the fresh, clean air, a complete contrast to the doku-impregnated atmosphere in the ship. He operated the cargo ramp and the beasts stampeded past him into a rich meadow. The AstroTurf in the hold had taken a severe trampling. Gone now were his dreams about inviting the ladies’ football team back on board. He shook his head at the devastation, and went back into the ship to track down the Skagans.
Groat and Spigot were lying listlessly, exactly where he left them, only with more mucus.
“Come on you two. We’ve landed. You’re home.”
“Too weak now,” muttered Groat. “Too late. Want to die.”
“Don’t be a wuss. Once you get the fresh air of Skagos in your lungs, you’ll be as precise as a deluge. If it helps, I’ll take Spigot first, especially as she seems to have lost all her clothes.”
“Be careful with her; she’s slippy.”
Tom managed to wrap a coat around the female Skagan, and started to drag her out of the cabin.
He was joined by the Magus. “The doku have all left the ship.”
“Good. Give me a hand with Spigot.”
“I’ll take her legs,” said the Magus. “And very nice ones they would be if they weren’t covered with slime.”
“I hope she’s not dead,” said Tom. “It would be a shame if we were too late getting her home.”
“She’s not dead,” said the Magus, checking a pulse in her upper thigh. “Seems more like some sort of coma.”
“I’m hoping there are some Skagans already here to help,” said Tom. “I’m guessing this is where Vac and Tanda disappeared to when they deserted SCT to the evil car-parking agencies.”
They heaved the girl out of the ship and laid her gently on the turf. The Magus took a handful of the rich meadow grass and started to mop her down. “Here’s your coat,” he said, handing it back to Tom.
“I’ll leave it thanks,” said Tom, regarding the slime-covered garment with distaste. “Don’t let her get cold.”
“She won’t get cold, Sah. She is back on her home planet now.”
“Vac!” Tom stood up suddenly, and collided with the burly figure of his former chief of police.
“Yes, Sah. Reporting for duty, Sah. What are your orders?”
“To get Groat out of the ship and make sure that he and Spigot are properly cared for.”
“Right away, Sah.”
Vac snapped his fingers, and a group of Skagan tribespeople came out of the trees.
“We will take them to the breeding grounds,” said Vac, as his comrades carried the stricken Groat and Spigot away from the landing site. Tom frowned as he noted them also collecting his soiled coat, and the foliage the Magus had been using to clean Spigot.
“You will come with us,” said Vac to the Magus. “You have already started on midwife duties.”
“What are you talking about?”
“Come.”
Tom and the Magus followed the procession into the bushes at the edge of the meadow, elbowing their way through the herd of browsing doku. Vac led them along a narrow path, and they found themselves in a freshly dug area, that reminded Tom of how the allotment he had at home would have looked had he actually put any effort into it. There was even a small hut, converted from a Great Western Railway cattle wagon. Tom did a double-take. He pointed. “How the Phoist did that get here?”
“The shed, Sah? We have to have a shed in an allotment, Sah. How do these things get anywhere?”
“That’s what I want to know.”
“Probably terraformed with the rest of the planet,” muttered the Magus. “I’m more interested in what they’re doing right now, not how things started. What are they doing with our crew?”
What the Skagans were doing was laying Groat and Spigot in an excavation in the bare soil at one side of the allotment. Then, along with the coat and slimy grass, they started covering them with earth.
“Stop,” shouted Tom. “They’re not dead. Surely you don’t bury your people while they are still alive? Although it could be a good idea with some people on my home planet,” he muttered as he tried to force his way towards the burial party.
He was held back by Vac. “Do not interfere with Skagan rituals, Sah. We know what we are doing. It’s instinct.”
“But, it’s also murder.” Tom watched helplessly as Groat and Spigot were completely buried. Vac left him and stood at the end of the mound. He took out a small book and flicked through it.
“If I could read,” he announced eventually, “I would have read the ‘Blessing of the Newly-planted’ and wished the best of propagation on the parents to be... however, I can’t, so they will have to take their chances. Are there any others who are ripe to propagate?”
Two other Skagans came forward shyly, holding hands and wiping their noses, apparently suffering from extreme head-colds. “We would like to,” said the man, sniffing. The woman nodded vigorously, spraying mucus over the burial plot.
“Then sit in the holy soil,” said Vac. “To give you the required privacy, we will all swivel. It is not seemly that we watch you making offspring. Everyone, turn.”
The Skagans formed a protective circle around the lovers and then turned their backs.
“You may commence,” said Vac.
From outside the circle, Tom tried not to look as the Skagans inside stripped off their clothes and sat, legs and arms interlocked, facing each other. He glanced at the Magus, who was staring at the couple.
“You shouldn’t be watching,” he whispered. “This is a private, dignified act.”
“Yeah right,” said the Magus. “They are going to be shagging like they always do. How is that dignified? They always encourage people to partake, especially outsiders.”
There was a loud sneeze from the man inside the circle. The Skagans cheered. There was another sneeze, this time from the woman, and then both began coughing and sneezing and sounding as though they were choking, bringing up streams of mucus. The Skagan cheering continued. Before long, the couple were covered in phlegm and almost unrecognisable.
“Turn,” shouted Vac. “Shovels... begin!”
The protective ring of Skagans turned and whacked the couple around their heads with their shovels.
“You are killing them,” shouted Tom.
“Stunning,” said Vac calmly.
“But why?”
“You can’t bury someone while they are still breathing. I mean, they’d get dirt up their noses, and all that.”
Tom watched helplessly as the couple were slowly covered in earth.
Vac returned, dusting his hands together to knock off the soil. “It is finished, Sah,” he said. “We must leave them now.”
“But they will suffocate.”
“They will not. That is why we hit them with the shovels. They will survive. They are Skagans. The mating ritual is over. In a year, we will hear the trample of tiny feet. Come and join the celebrations.”
In the nearby Skagan village, Tom and the Magus rested, exhausted, in the guest hut provided for them. They were freshly bathed, and the Skagan women who had attended to their every need (Skagans do not forget their duty of hospitality, even during the breeding season) had recently left them, returning to the conference hut, to sing songs and tell tales of the old days when Skagans ruled the cosmos.
“What was that all about?” Tom struggled to sit up.
“Something to do with the propagation I think. You always told them they should try to make babies to stop the race dying out.”
“They spend all their time trying to make babies, but nothing ever happens. I’ve never seen a pregnant Skagan, or any little ones.”
The blanket over the hut door was pushed aside. “You won’t.”
“Tanda, what a lovely surprise.” Tom came to attention in more than one area as he remembered the trysts he had shared with the grey-eyed beauty, deputy leader of the Skagan tribe.
“Ah, Two-Dan, my hero,” she said, slipping her hand inside his trousers. “I see you are still pleased to see me.”
“Always,” said Tom, gasping slightly. “I love you, but I’m exhausted after the Skaganl greeting... and slightly sore, if truth be told.”
Tanda laughed and pulled her hand away. “Lie with me then, and I’ll give you the explanation you deserve. You too, Magus, there’s space on this king-size greeting bed.”
The Magus lay on the other side of Tanda. “I’m sorry,” he said, “my hand seems to have slipped on to your breast. I forgot myself; it’s a habit.”
She giggled. ”Actually it’s not a habit, it’s a smock for accessibility, but I’m not complaining.”
“You said something about an explanation?” Tom rested his head on the side of her chest. “Is that your hand, Magus?”
“Probably,” said the Magus. “Perhaps I’ll stay with the breast on my own side.”
“You were always going on at Vac to encourage the breeding and make some more Skagans,” said Tanda.
“He kept being evasive. I thought he didn’t understand,” said Tom, settling his head more comfortably and resting his hand on Tanda’s firm stomach.
“Knowing Vac, probably not,” said Tanda, “but we Skagans have a guilty secret. You have witnessed more than any outsider, so you should know the truth. Agree it will go no further.”
“Of course.”
“You too, Magus.”
“Detectives’ honour,” said the Magus, tweaking her nipple.
“Right.” Tanda grimaced. He winked at her. She took a breath. “What you witnessed today is the real way new Skagans are created.”
“What, the burying and the earth and all that?” The Magus withdrew his hand.
“Yes, we call it ‘The Big Sneeze’. Our normal mating process is to rub noses until it triggers the reaction, but because Groat and Spigot were away from their home turf, they were unable to use local plant spores to help with the expulsion of the mucus. You see, that slime contains the seeds of the new generation. Two Skagans mixing it together triggers the growth sequence. We then bury the parents in the soil to prevent any loss of nutrients, and guard, particularly against any of the local deer, who love a good lick. There are also other creatures, such as the truffle-pig-dogs, that would quite happily dig up our developing progeny, so we need to be vigilant.”
“You actually grow new Skagans?”
“Yes. You know we are vegetarians? That actually extends to our makeup and bodies too.”
“You mean to say I had sex with a plant?” Tom gaped.
“Of course not. As we develop, the cells mature into a structure you would recognise, warm-blooded and all that.”
“How long to turn from plant into human?” said the Magus.
“Depending on the soil and fertiliser, the external temperature and the amount of rain, anything up to a year.”
“That’s a long gestation period.”
“They are fully-grown when they emerge from the soil.”
“Ah. But what about the parents?”
“They will resurface in a short while. They too feed on the nutrients in the earth, and will remain underground until the cocoon forms around the developing infant... And that is the real reason why we do all the public shagging.”
“To hide the fact that you are of the earth and from the earth,” said Tom. “Nobody would even think of looking further. Do you really enjoy all the continuous conventional sex then?”
“Not really, but we have to keep up appearances. Good news though; now that you and the Magus know all about us, we don’t need to have sex with you anymore.”
There was a wail of anguish from the Magus. “There goes my reason to live!”
Before he could begin to beg for a reconsideration, the clear sound of a horn echoed around the stockade. “Oh, what’s that?” Tanda sat up, hastily brushing the two men away. “Is something attacking the breeding ground? I must leave you.”
“We will come too, won’t we, Magus?”
“I’ll have a doze first, to get over the shock.”
“No, you will come and help.” Tom hauled the little man upright and towed him after Tanda as she loped across the compound. “Come on, keep up.”
They both stopped in horror at the edge of the allotment clearing. Inside, the entire Skagan tribe was desperately trying to move the doku herd off the open soil. The creatures had broken through the wooden fence surrounding the area, and were busily trampling the freshly dug propagation beds. Their hooves had made deep impressions in the ground. Tom recognised Groat and Spigot, and the two lovers, still covered in dirt, and frantically punching the beasts in their heads. The doku were unfazed. Vac appeared, his face twisted with fury.
“These are your animals?” he managed to splutter. The Magus did an about-turn and tried to escape. He was intercepted by two Skagans and dragged back.
“They’re his,” said the Magus, pointing at Tom. “They came in his ship.”
“Call them off,” said Tom. “They seem to listen to you.”
“Yes, call them off,” said Vac, “or I slit your miserable throat now, and have you torn apart by my colleagues here.”
The Magus flapped his arms.
“And if you try to MUPPET, I’ll kill you before you even think of it,” said Vac, holding a long knife to the Magus’ throat.
“Call them off, Magus,” said Tom. “Get them to come to you.”
The Magus shook off his captors and strode uncertainly into the herd. Large heads turned and large tongues started to lick him. “Come on you lot.” He grabbed the horns of the nearest creature and started to pull. To Tom’s surprise, the beast didn’t resist and allowed itself to be led away from the chaos. The others began to follow, and the entire herd moved away from the allotment. Vac sent a pair of his men after them with instructions to bring the Magus back when he had corralled the beasts successfully.
In the morning light, the extent of the damage was revealed. The allotment was a wreck. Planted crops had been chewed to the ground and the breeding patch was pitted with hoof-holes and splattered with doku dung. The place stank. Groat and Spigot were staring sadly at the mess, while the lovers wept openly. Tom and the Magus were firmly restrained.
“You have committed a crime against the entire Skagan race,” said Tanda, tiredly. “The penalty is death by Smak.”
“Smak?” Tom stared at his feet. “It doesn’t sound pleasant.”
“Neither does the ‘death’ bit,” added the Magus.
Tanda folded her arms. “The smak is a carnivorous plant that feeds by stabbing its prey with its roots, and sucking out the juices. You will be staked in one of the clearings it lives in, and left to be eaten that way. It is the law.”
“Have we a right to a hearing?” said the Magus. “I mean it’s really Two-Dan’s fault. The beasts stowed on board. How were we to know they would prefer your garden to the wonderful foliage in the meadows?”
“You brought dangerous animals to our planet, failed to control them, and let them destroy our nursery,” said Tanda. “Why would a hearing be in order? There is no doubt regarding your guilt.”
“Yes,” said Vac as he arrived, wiping muddy hands on a cloth. “You are guilty, Sah, and you will pay the price.”
“I can only apologise. I didn’t know.” Tom hung his head.
“The sentence will be carried out immediately,” said Vac. “The smak feeds at midday so you have the morning to reflect upon your sins. We are vegetarian so cannot eat the fell beasts you brought with you, but we will outsource having the creatures converted to burgers, which I am told, are highly prized across some worlds, in particular Sapristi, where they are singly responsible for the obesity problem. We will have double revenge. I haven’t forgotten the problems at SCT and the parking junta. Long may they die of lard poisoning.”
“It might not be our fault, then,” said the Magus hopefully. “If the parking junta hadn’t taken over SCT and sent Two-Dan into exile, we wouldn’t be here and the nursery would be safe.”
Vac looked thoughtful. “I suppose that’s true...”
“Don’t be fooled,” said Tanda. “If you take that argument further, we get back to Two-Dan anyway. If he had never gone to Sapristi... if he had never travelled between universes... if he had never been born...”
“He is guilty by being alive, and therefore the Magus too, by association.”
“And the beasts do belong to the Magus,” said Tanda. “I’ve seen them licking him.”
“I’ve never met them before in my life,” spluttered the little man as one of the creatures came up behind him and butted him gently.
“Off to the clearing with them,” said Tanda. “You have a few hours to reflect upon your sins and then the sentence will be carried out.”
Tom and the Magus were tied, spread-eagled in the forest. “And this is how it ends,” said Tom. “Sucked off by a bloody plant.”
“Not nice,” said the Magus. “The roots stab you and slurp you out from the inside.”
“Did I want to remember that? Anyway, it’s all right for you,” said Tom. “You can simply teleport your way out of this.”
“I’ve tried,” said the Magus. “Nothing happens. I have no powers here. I think it may be the influence of the smak plant. Tanda said it was right underneath us. Its root system extends around the whole of this clearing, waiting for something to grab.”
“Then our days of sinking ale are over, and I don’t appreciate that you tried to place all the blame on me. They are your herd from Glenforbis, though I still don’t know how they got aboard. Did you let them on?”
“Not I,” said the Magus. “Maybe they were planted by insurgents to get us into trouble. Perhaps there really were some enemy agents, despite us disbelieving Vac when he used them as an excuse to build all those defences.”
“If so, it has been the longest, and most scheming, assassination in history, and it is going to work, unless you can get your ropes loose?”
“Not a chance. Skagan knots are renowned through the galaxy. They perfected them in those bondage games they are so fond of sharing with unsuspecting punters.”
“I’d have liked a punt,” said Tom wistfully. “Poling up and down a tranquil river with a lovely lady in the stern and a parasol to keep the rain off, and a bottle of champagne. And now it will never happen. So when is this plant supposed to appear?”
“Not till midday. Apparently, they feed better in the full sunshine.”
“What’s that there?” As Tom craned his neck, he caught a glimpse of a tiny root breaking the surface of the clearing, pushing the grass to one side. It was followed soon afterwards by a larger root, and gradually the whole of the clearing began to move. A ring of waving prehensile stems surrounded them.
“This is it, then,” said Tom. “Adieu old friend, even though you did try to drop me in it to save your own skin.”
“I’d have come to the rescue if they’d let me off. Rannie already has a good lawyer she promised to sell me.”
“You are all heart. Those bits of you which aren’t arsehole, that is.”
“There’s no need to be vulgar,” said the Magus. “We are in this together.”
The ground underneath them shook.
“I think we are going to be in this plant together,” said Tom as the bulk of the smak hauled itself out of the soil. The central stem seemed to give a malicious leer as it towered above them, and then the roots jabbed downwards at its helpless victims.