The Seventh Science Fiction MEGAPACK ®. Robert Silverberg
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big or very bright, but I could see something approaching me, could hear the rustle of its feet across the grass.
I finally got my good hand on my sonic pistol and held it unsteadily in front of me.
“Stay back!” I mumbled.
I fired a shot, but even in my semi-conscious state I could tell it was well off target. I tried to steady my hand and fire again, but then everything went black. My last thought was: What a stupid way to die.
* * * *
Except that I didn’t die. I don’t know how long I was unconscious—maybe nine or ten hours, because the sun was high in the sky when I woke up.
“Don’t try to stand,” said a lilting female voice in perfect, unaccented Terran. “I had to splint your leg.”
I rubbed some crusted blood from my eyelashes, and noticed that my right arm was heavily bandaged. A damp cloth began dabbing at my eyes, and I was able to focus on the person who was holding it.
She was a pretty young woman, in her early twenties, certainly under thirty, with a slender body, long red-brown hair, high cheekbones, and light blue, almost colorless, eyes. She looked familiar, but I knew I’d never seen her before.
“Who are you?” I asked weakly.
“My name is Rebecca,” she said with a smile. “And you are Gregory Donovan.”
“I thought I left my ID in my bubble.”
“You did.”
“Then you opened it,” I said, frowning. “It’s only supposed to open to my voice command.”
“I haven’t opened it,” she said. “Now try to rest.”
I was about to argue with her, for she was obviously lying, but suddenly all my energy vanished and I lost consciousness again.
* * * *
It was very late afternoon when I awoke the next time. Rebecca was sitting on the ground, staring at me. I got to take another look at her, and decided that she was more than pretty—she was gorgeous. I couldn’t find a single feature I’d improve.
She was dressed in an immaculate white blouse and khaki slacks that fit her like a glove, which seemed as unlikely as being cared for by a beautiful Terran-speaking girl on a planet that supposedly had no sentient life forms.
“Welcome back,” she said. “How do you feel?”
“Rested,” I said. “What kind of shape am I in?”
“Your arm is badly infected, your leg is broken in three places, and you have some serious wounds around your face and neck.”
“What the hell happened?” I asked.
“You were attacked by a…the closest I can translate it into Terran would be a Nightstalker. It’s the largest carnivore on Nikita.”
“It can’t be,” I said. “Something bigger drove it off.”
“Trust me, Gregory,” said Rebecca. “The Nightstalker is Nikita’s largest carnivore.”
I was too weak to argue, and it didn’t make any difference anyway. Something had driven the Nightstalker off, and I didn’t much care if it was a bigger carnivore or an enraged microbe.
“How long have you been here, Rebecca?” I asked.
“With you?” she said. “Since last night.”
“No, I mean on Nikita.”
“All my life.”
I frowned. “My computer didn’t say anything about a human colony here.”
“There isn’t one.”
“You mean you were stranded here as a child?” I asked. “Were your parents with you?”
“My parents lived here,” she said.
“Are they still alive?” I said. “I’ve got a ship picking me up in nine days…”
“No, they aren’t alive.”
“I’m sorry. Well, at least the ship can take you and me off the planet.”
“Are you hungry?” she asked.
I thought about it for a moment. “Not really. I’d like something to drink, though.”
“All right,” she said. “The river’s just a quarter mile away. I’ll be back in a few minutes.”
“They say the water’s pretty awful. I’ve got water and some electrolyte mixtures in my bubble.”
“If you prefer,” she said.
“See?” I said accusingly. “I knew you’d been in my bubble.”
“I told you: I haven’t entered it.”
“If you’re telling the truth, then you won’t be able to get into it now. It’s programmed only to respond to my voice pattern uttering the proper code words.”
“I will get them and be right back,” she said.
And sure enough, she was back just a minute or two later carrying three containers. I chose the one that would give me the quickest energy boost and tried not to think about how she got the bubble to let her in.
“I think you should eat in another hour, Gregory,” she said. “You need strength to fight off the infection. I’ll go through your supplies in a few minutes and see what you have.” She flashed me a smile. “I’m a very good cook. Maybe I can figure out how to combine your H-rations to make them taste like duck in orange sauce.”
“Why did you say that?” I asked.
“It’s your favorite, isn’t it?”
“Yes, it is,” I replied. “How did you know?”
“You just look like a duck in orange sauce man to me.”
“What the hell is going on here?” I demanded. “You know my name, you know my favorite food, you can get a voice-coded bubble to open to you, you know how to splint a leg and patch me up, and you speak without an accent.”
“Why are you complaining?” she asked. “Would you rather I had left you broken and bleeding on the ground? Did you want me to bring you water that you find all-but-undrinkable? Should I find H-rations that you hate?”
“No, of course not,” I said. “But you’re not answering my questions.”
“Yes, I am.”
“Here’s another,” I said. “What the hell are you doing here in the first place? It’s a big planet. How did you happen to find me just in time to save my life?”
“Serendipity,” said Rebecca.
“Serendipity, hell,” I said. “And while I’m asking questions, what saved me last night?”
“I did.”
“You patched me up,” I said. “What saved me? What drove the Nightstalker off?”
“Is it important?” asked Rebecca. “You’re alive. That’s what matters.”
“It’s important to me,” I said. “I don’t like being lied to.”
“I haven’t lied to you, Gregory,” she said. “Now be quiet and let me check the wounds on your arm and neck.”
She walked over and knelt down next to me. There was a sweet smell about her, almost a perfume, that seemed to suit her exactly. She examined the gashes on my neck, and although they were badly swollen and clearly infected, her cool, sure fingers didn’t hurt at all.
“It’s still seeping,” she said, getting to her feet. “I’ve treated your dressings