Beast of prey

by Jay Williams

There was no doubt of it, something was crouching in the shadow of the fronds. He had difficulty making it out, for it was a pale blue-green, but he had an impression of a heavy head and shoulders, and what appeared to be, incongruously, a bunch of feathers.

"Feather crest?" he thought to himself, with a grin. "Indians?"

The creature moved again. It slid sinuously out of the shadows and crouched on the moss. Its color then changed to a darker green dappled with brown. Fenner saw through the glass that the bunch of feathers was a pair of antennae, similar to those of the larger moths, that sprang from the top of its narrow head. It had short legs and a slender body covered with short, fine fur. The general effect was that of a smallish mountain lion.

As he watched, the creature turned on its own length somewhat as a snake might turn, and glided out of sight over the edge of a ridge.

Fenner did not hesitate. Without a second thought, he snatched up his plastic suit and zipped it on. The air of Orpheus was breathable, but the suits had been designed to prevent contact with possibly poisonous spores, pollen, plants, or insects. He took down a Remington which was capable of delivering a bolt sufficient to stun a bear at thirty yards; his intention was to capture the beast for study, not to kill it. He also clipped to his belt a Mark III collecting net, a light, strong, fine-mesh net in a capsule the size of an old-fashioned hand grenade. Then he let himself out the side lock and ran quickly across the moss towards the spot where the beast had vanished.

The moss was crushed and flattened where the thing had lain, and he touched the selector of his wrist tracker and held it over the spot. The scent-cell glowed, and the tiny needle swung over to point. Fenner followed it over the ridge and down the hill on the other side.

The forest began at the foot of the hill, and beyond, looming above the foliage, were the peaks of distant mountains, hazy in the faintly greenish air. Somewhere beyond those peaks the Archeological Survey was at work, and there was something comforting and neighborly in the thought.

The light was always crepuscular here, and because of the color of Orpheus' sun, the sky had a green tint as of a summer pool. This green, against which the dark brown moss and lighter colors of the trees shimmered like waterweed, was extremely restful and yet alien so that in four weeks Fenner had not been able to accustom himself to it. He felt always as if he were walking in a dream, as if his limbs were weighted and languid, although in fact the purity of the air made him feel more vigorous than ever before in his forty-five years.

He entered the forest which here was composed chiefly of a gray-stemmed tree, very slender and rigid with a crown of glossy red-brown leaves. The tall boles rose straight out of the moss, and there was little underbrush so that it was almost like a planted park. The needle of the tracker led him on a winding course but he was not afraid of becoming lost for if by some mischance his homing compass, which was always set for the Station, should fail, he had only to follow his own footsteps back with the tracker.