After waiting a few moments, Sajithen made the call a second time, but then seemed content to wait. Several minutes passed, and Rey’s attempt to scan the river’s edge for any sight or sound of Chelon movement faded into a borderline fugue state of sweltering discomfort and boredom . . . only to be interrupted by a surge in the water and the emergence of an enormous head not ten meters from the skiff. Startled, Rey stumbled backward into his seat. The creature that rose from the river had a leathery, bright green head with owlish dark eyes and an elongated beak tapering to a sharp point. Its plesiosaurian neck was nearly as long as the skiff and attached to an even longer body whose scaled back barely breached the surface.
“Do not be alarmed,” Sajithen said while Sangupta was still fumbling for his phase pistol. “The kreeyitch is harmless, an eater of plants, insects, and small fish. It was only curious.” Indeed, the creature was already darting away, if any movement by such a ponderous animal could be called “darting.” The escorts both made sounds of amusement.
Mayweather grinned as he watched the kreeyitch undulate away, the wide paddle at the end of its meters-long tail propelling it with a sinuous up-and-down motion. “It’s like a river dolphin,” he observed.
“That’s one big river dolphin,” Sangupta replied.
“It’s one big river.”
“Many of the larger villages keep tame kreeyitch to assist in fishing and warding off river predators,” the pilot-escort told them.
That brought a double take from the science officer. “I hope that means the predators are smaller than that.”
“The ones that travel in packs are, yes.” The escort’s Chelon features were the perfect deadpan; Rey could only hope he was teasing.
The director scanned the forest. “They should have come by now. Let us move onto the ground, let them see us more clearly.”
At her nod, the pilot moved the skiff in toward the bank. But then something huge erupted out of the water before them—a scale-armored head even larger than the kreeyitch’s, with a gaping mouth filled with sharp serrated teeth. The pilot veered off as it roared and lunged toward them.
“You weren’t kidding about those predators, were you?” Sangupta cried.
The Jelna escort had drawn his sidearm, but Sajithen clacked her beak thoughtfully and said, “Wait. Bring the skiff to a halt.” The escorts complied.
“Don’t tell me that’s harmless, too,” Mayweather said to her as it roared in their direction.
“A tukhanthik is far from harmless,” Sajithen told him. “But the kreeyitch know that. If one had been anywhere near here, the kreeyitch would be elsewhere.” She turned to the pilot. “It is a hypnoid illusion. Take us toward it.” As the Chelon complied, Sajithen turned her head back toward the humans. “The nationalists are here, but they try to deter us. Perhaps a test to ensure it was truly I who came.”
“I really hope you’re right,” Sangupta murmured as the skiff drove right toward the tukhanthik’s gaping maw . . .
. . . which flickered and faded from his view as the vehicle passed right through where he’d believed it to be. Rey blinked, impressed with the level of detail the hypnoids had been able to conjure.
Moments later, the skiff settled onto the bank and its occupants debarked. Sajithen repeated her ululating, clacking call. “You see it is Sajithen who comes to you!” she called. “Despite my high obligations elsewhere, my purpose is urgent enough to come in my own flesh to meet with you! Let us play no more games!” She moved forward. Mayweather kept pace with her, and Sangupta followed, but he could see no one. “I have seen through one hypnoid trick! If you stand before us, then let us see the truth of it so we may parley!” Startled, Rey looked around, narrowing his gaze, trying to will himself to see through the illusion or spot some motion in the corner of his eye.
And he did. Specifically, he spotted Travis Mayweather’s hand jerking up to grab at his neck, where a slender dart protruded. Just as the first officer started to wobble and lose balance, Sangupta saw the Jelna escort struck as well, then felt a sharp sting in his own neck. He fell to the ground just after his superior officer, and as his vision started to blur, he finally saw the illusion of emptiness give way, revealing a fair number of well-armed Chelons with hypnoids at their heels.
As Rey’s consciousness faded, he prayed that those darts had not been coated in the Chelons’ own, quite lethal venom.
Shuttlepod one, over Rigel VII
“Incoming!”
Ensign Pedro Ortega veered the shuttlepod to port, evading the exploding shell that left a smoky black smudge against the purple and magenta hues of Rigel VII’s sky. “Damn,” Takashi Kimura said. “Their planetary defenses are more comprehensive than we thought. Can you still get us down?”