IV

The high powered rifle in my hands felt out of place in the peaceful

looking land, but we kept watching back to back, while the two men

worked and talked quietly. John spotted our visitors first. We turned

at his shout, looking in the direction of his outthrust arm. Five or

six small creatures bounded through the vegetation that grew to our

knees. They came towards us in bouncing leaps, and we were so quiet

in frozen motion, we could hear the swishing as they approached. John

still held his rifle in his lap. When he raised it, I whispered.

"Don't kill anything." We were intruders here. I thought about unseen

Gods watching this scene unfold. The creatures were about a hundred

feet away when they saw us. They stopped, as if by command, vanishing

into the thick grass. Nothing moved for a minute. Carl still held a

spade in his hand, bent over in the act of digging. Paul was kneeling,

holding a thick plant in gloved hands. Then we saw the creatures

again, bounding closer. They were bigger than rabbits, fat and furry

in appearance with large round eyes. As they came over the tops of the

grass, I followed the first in the sights of the rifle until it was

close enough to distinguish the brown fur and short legs. The others,

there were six in all, hopped cautiously behind the leader and stopped

in a comical straight line.

Carl straightened his back and they were gone. I stood up on the hood

and watched them reappear.

"Here they are," I said quietly, pointing in front of the car. The

creatures were twenty feet away, watching us with eyes that never

blinked.

"Hey," shouted Paul to relieve the tension. They stood their ground.

"What's the idea of you six fat clowns scaring us?"

"I forgot to breathe," Carl said, sucking air into his lungs.

"They got us outnumbered but they look harmless," John chuckled.

"They're surely not afraid. I expected they might blast us with a bolt

of lightning or something," I laughed.

Not so much as a twitch of a nose greeted us. The creatures were

four-footed, with large hindlegs. They evidently belonged with the

flora, where we didn't.

"Are they young ones?" I asked Paul. He shrugged. "Show me an old one

and I'll tell you better. We'll need at least one specimen for our

report."

"Not now," I said. "We've made a good impression, at least." John and I

kept watch on our visitors as the technicians kept at their work. The

six creatures regarded us for a few minutes, then as if their curiosity

was satisfied they bounded away, emitting piping cries.

"I wish we would have taken one," Paul commented dryly. My hands were

wet where I held the rifle.

"I'm glad we didn't just yet," I said to the group.

We raced the deepening shadows back to the ship. Paul and Carl put

their guesses as to the nature of the animals in scientific language.

I couldn't help thinking of them as bundles of fur that had seemed

friendly. My sense of fitness made me wonder if mankind should disturb

this blue world. I could see the relentless feelers of an Earth

civilization clearing the land for cities, exterminating whatever

didn't fit, like the caricatures of rabbits that paid us a call.

It was late for such thoughts. Our valley had started to change when we

came into it. I couldn't explain why but it made me sadder than I had

felt in a long time. We got back to the ship as the sunlight faded. The

tip of the gleaming projectile caught the last rays of daylight as we

climbed out of the scout car. We unloaded the supplies and put them in

the crane. I was shivering in the sudden cool wind as John started up

the ladder. Blackness settled down like a cloak until we could only see

each other and the ship. The ship blazed with light and we waited for

John to operate the crane. He shouted from the hatchway high above us,

"Karen is gone."

She wasn't in the ship. We searched both sections thoroughly without

success. We left everything where it was, taking flashlights and

rifles, spreading out from the ship to look for her in the darkness.

On both sides I could see the lights of the others, growing smaller

and apart. Our shouts echoed across a widening circle, as I walked and

swung the light of the torch. Minutes later I could no longer hear

the others. I was hemmed in by the darkness, eerie and silent. My

flashlight beam picked up the thick trucks of the tangled forest, and I

had to turn and walk along the edge, farther and farther from safety.

It must have been five or six minutes later that I heard the sound. I

was calling her name less and less in fear of attracting some wild

beast, but I had to chance it in case she was cut off from the light.

"David. David. Over here."

I heard something move in the direction of the sound. My muscles

tightened as the rustling stopped.

"David, please."

Karen, I thought, but I was afraid to move. It sounded like her voice,

but there was something else in the night. I swore in fear, conjuring

up some nightmare that might be enticing me into the woods, reading my

mind and calling in a soft voice.

"David, help me."

"Karen," I shouted, straining to hear the voice again. Something moved

in the carpet of thick growth. I swung the light in a full circle, but

the blackness seemed to absorb it.

"Where are you?" I shouted.

I heard the noise and started to bring the light to bear, with the

automatic held in my other hand. I was halfway around when the light

picked out something big and black that sprang with a snarl. A tearing

pain slammed into my chest, hurling me back as the light spun away.

Something fell on me. I reached out and caught thick fur, jamming

the gun into it, firing until all eight shots were out. I was barely

conscious from the pain, pushing away from the weight across me. I

rolled free and started to fall through black space, head over heels

through the ripping hiss of the roar in my head.

Something stopped my headlong plunge and I felt my head being lifted.

I could hear Karen talking from a million miles distant, then shots

exploded in my ear.

"David," she screamed. I couldn't breathe or lift my left arm as I

struggled to get up.

"Karen, where were you?"

"Here, right here. I kept hearing you shout but I was afraid to

answer." She shined the flashlight on me. "Dear God, you're hurt," she

cried.

"What ... was it," I asked. I rolled to my knees as she shined the

light on the creature. I stared at it and shuddered through the pain in

my chest. It was as big as a bear with thick hindlegs and a massive

blunt face that stuck out of hunched shoulders. Black blood oozed from

the gaping holes in its chest, staining the fur and dripping on the

crumpled grass.

"What kind of a beast is that?" I said in wonder. It had moved with the

speed of a machine when it struck me.

"I heard it following me in the dark. I ran into the trees and kept

still."

"It went for the light when it hit me. Maybe it has no sense of smell."

"It didn't come any closer when I stopped. I was afraid to shout at

you. Oh David, look at your arm."

I felt the blood on my arm, shaking my head. "Not that. Something's

wrong with my chest. I think it busted some ribs when it jumped me."

I tried to ease the fire in my body, but I couldn't move very far

before knives jabbed into my flesh.

"We've got to get out of here," she whimpered.

"Are you hurt?"

"No. David, I'm so ashamed. I should have stayed in the ship."

"Just so you're not hurt, Karen. There's a clip in my pocket. Fire the

rest of your clip."

"It's empty."

"Then fire just four of these." I was too busy worrying about us to ask

her why she had left the ship. She fired the shots in rapid order.

She tried to help me up, but the needles stuck me again. "No use. Let

me down easy," I grunted. I started to black out again, reaching out to

grab her to keep from doing so.

The stars quit flashing in my head and I came to with my head in her

lap. Her firm legs cushioned me. She was holding my bloody arm.

"Why are you crying?" I asked.

"You're hurt," she answered. I had to hold her hand to keep from

blacking out. "I'm just scared. Why did you leave the ship? It was

nearly dark when we left."

"I was trying to find you."

"What happened?"

She tore away my shirt sleeve carefully, wiping away the warm

stickiness. Her voice was choked when she spoke. "I remember. I was

trying to find the car to tell you. It got dark so fast I got lost

coming back. Then I heard that...."

"Forget about that. Karen, your memory is back?"

"Yes. Everything makes sense now."

"And you wanted to see Paul," I said.

"Not Paul, you."

She was too far ahead of me. I was content to lie and hold her hand

tightly, feeling the warmth of her.

"Oh David. I found your picture. That's why I remembered."

"I don't understand."

"It isn't very clear, but when I got on the ship I put my personal

things in a small suitcase. I saw it later but I didn't know it was

mine. After you had gone I suddenly thought about putting it somewhere.

I had shoved it in the clothing locker because I wouldn't need it."

"Finding it made you remember."

"Yes. Listen. I hear them shouting. They're coming to find us. Your

picture was in that suitcase. I had taken it from a bulletin board."

"What are you trying to tell me?" I asked. I thought I was unable to

trust the thoughts that came to mind.

"Stop moving. I don't know why I'm telling you this," she said. I tried

to get up.

"Karen...." I stopped when I heard the others. "Fire the clip," I

shouted as I rolled away from her. It hurt me to move and I groaned.

The gun roared in the quiet air and she dropped down beside me.

"David."

"S'all right," I managed to grunt.

"They're coming. Don't try to move."

"Karen. Come here before they get here. You were telling me about the

picture."

"Yes. I love you. You're hard headed, so very busy, so very military,

David."

"I must have addled my brains. I thought I heard you say you loved me."

"I love you."

I tried to get up but she held me back. "Karen. I had to come here to

find you. I've loved you ever since--"

"Don't talk," she urged gently.

"I've got so much to tell you. I wanted to say it so many times."

She silenced me with a soft hand and shouted to the others. I could see

the lights bobbing closer as she brushed my lips. "We have a life time

to say it, David."

"But so long to wait--"

"Sleep is timeless. We will be together before we go back," she

whispered.

"Much will have changed before we get back," I said doubtfully. "People

and ideas may be different--"

"Does it matter?"

"All that counts is us."

* * * * *

I have finished the last entry in the log of the _Pioneer_. Everything

that has happened is here, from waking to now. In the two weeks we

stayed after I was hurt, the others roamed farther from the ship,

mapping, testing, collecting the proof that this world would do. It

was a wild country, young and free, big with space and challenge. It

would fight man's coming like the Earth had fought advance, hurling

storms and force against civilization. Sitting at this table, I can

still picture the sun on the dark mountains, the restless life that

will change when another ship returns. There is no pain to remind me of

its power, only a half wistful sense of loss. The specimens and records

are stored away for the trip. They will tell our children the gamble is

won. Some day soon, in a relative time, new pioneers will thrust their

strength and courage across the forests and fields of our new worlds.

That is as it should be, for born in man is an indomitable urge to

reach out and touch the stars. On the last day, before we blasted off

for home, we drove out and left a message on an outcropping of stone.

Burned into the face of a blue marble cliff is our prophesy. Acid ate

the letters out of stone; faith put them in our minds to set down.

HERE LIES AN UNEXPLORED WORLD.

CLEAR ITS FIELDS AND MOVE ON.

THERE IS NO POINT OF RETURN

FOR DESTINY.

We drank a toast in silence as Karen prepared us for the long journey.

Afterwards we shook hands, and I watched the men go to sleep as I had

done once before.

Karen and I delayed a few minutes to talk of nothing, watching the

stars from the control room. Her kiss was brief, but hard and full of

promise as her eyes fluttered closed. She whispered for me to sleep

well. I went to the navigation room to finish the last entry. That is

done now. The log is up to date. I leave it open to the page where the

next new entry will be recorded with the others.