“I’m here to make you a deal, Bayard.”

  The stupidity of my action finally struck me. Was I a lamb being led to slaughter? I crouched low, drew the Colt as a gunfighter might, and looked right and left when I should have been looking at the sky.

  The holoimage watched me, looking amused.

  “If you think you can send your missiles—”

  “No,” the hominid said fast, interrupting. “We know we can’t kill you like that.”

  Hearing his assurance caused my gut to clench. I rose and backpedalled toward camp.

  “Bayard, Bayard, stay a while. I promise nothing bad will happen to you. I just want to parley.”

  I turned and ran, wondering if it was already too late for me. I shouted to the camp.

  Behind me, I heard vicious snarls.

  I twisted back to look over my shoulder.

  Out of the falling snow, four horrific sabertooths raced after me.

  I whirled around to face them because I knew I couldn’t outrun these hyena-gaited creatures. I started blasting away with the Colt, trying to kill the prehistoric monsters.

  Behind me, I heard new snarls.

  I’d been a fool. The holographic hominid had trapped me. However, I noticed a different quality to the snarls behind me. Hope grew, as I understood.

  Dire wolves, one, two, three, four—ten raced through the snow, passing me. They launched themselves at the nearing great cats.

  Now began a momentous and titanic struggle. Out of the snow and the sleet, more great cats raced. From the other direction and passing me, the rest of the dire wolves rushed into the swirling melee.

  I backed away, keeping my phasor ready.

  The violence of the battle caused me to tremble in awe. Twelve great cats battled sixteen savage dire wolves. It was a short, hard, vicious fight. There were loud yowls of cats in pain. There were the whines and yelps of dire wolves murdered by grotesque great cats.

  What in the hell am I doing?

  “To me, to me,” I shouted. “Bring torches, to me, to me.”

  With great deliberation, standing much too close to the wild, surging battle, I began to beam one great cat after another.

  The fight seemed to last forever.

  Then, Neanderthals surrounded me, with stone-tipped spears ready and torches held high.

  The last dire wolves went down under rending claws.

  Skarl, Zog, and Drogar appeared. They lowered their lances, aiming them as taught. One missile after another flashed into the feline mass. The blasts tore the giant sabertooths, killing many, maybe most.

  Perhaps one slunk away, and one missile after another streaked for it.

  Abruptly, the battle was over. There was some stirring among the torn flesh, some final whines and whimpers.

  Neanderthals rushed forward, using torches for illumination. They put every dire wolf and nearly all the great cats out of their misery.

  “Hold it,” I shouted.

  Grim-faced Neanderthals faced me.

  I raced forward, having to fight my way through the protective Neanderthals bundled in their furs. They were not like dwarves, but mini-trolls.

  I reached the last living sabertooth, its hindquarters shattered.

  The beast raised itself up, staring at me.

  I looked at it with its antenna, with eyes that stared with too much understanding. I was certain the beast still recorded and sent images back to base.

  I stared at the great cat, with the Neanderthals about me, with the dead dire wolves and great cats scattered about.

  “Nice try, guys,” I told the cat. “You know you’re going to lose, right? We’re going to crush you First Folk. Send the best you have at us. It won’t matter. You’ve seen what we have, and we have even more in store. Your day on the planet is finished, do you understand me?”

  The Neanderthals stepped back from me, looking upon me with wonder.

  Brakka appeared. “What are you doing?”

  “Do you see the antenna? Do you see how the cat watches us? Whatever it sees is sent back through its antenna. That means First Folk are watching us through its eyes. They can hear and see what the cat hears and sees. Look at its greater-sized head, its greater braincase. These First Folk have taken some of your Neanderthals and extracted the brain from their heads and put them into these cats.”

  The Neanderthals gasped in horror.

  Brakka shook a fist at the cat.

  I faced it again. “We’re going to rid the planet of your First Folk blasphemy. We’re going to destroy you utterly.”

  Then the Neanderthals did what I’d hoped they would. They roared with approval and shook their weapons.

  The stricken great cat cast about.

  I knew it transmitted these images of vengeful, soldier-like Neanderthals.

  Would that cause fear in the First Folk? Or would they merely sneer? No, I didn’t think the little hominids would sneer at this. They’d hear and understand we meant to destroy them. I didn’t think it would stiffen First Folk resolve. It would start to make them fear our arrival. That was what I was counting on.

  Feeling I’d gotten the message across, I used my phasor and beamed the great cat in the face, destroying the captive Neanderthal brain and putting the beast out of its misery.

  I also showed those in the monitor chamber: this was what we were going to do them.

  Would that start a panic among the First Folk? I was counting on it. That didn’t mean it would happen, but maybe they would panic.

  As a Marine, I knew all about instilling fear in the enemy.

  -30-

  It was difficult falling back asleep after having fought for my life and seeing the horrific sabertooths en masse. I had an even better idea now concerning the grotesque nature of our enemy. They willingly inserted Neanderthal brains into the great cats. I’d known that before, but having shot one in the face, knowing a Neanderthal brain was back there… It was a Doctor Moreau evil to do that.

  Yet…despite my sleeplessness, I found myself stirring under my furs, remembering my latest dream. That would imply I’d been sleeping. Had I fallen asleep after all?

  There was bustle around me…the camp getting ready to continue the trek. I saw muted sunlight through a fold in my covering furs, confirming my suspicion.

  This was embarrassing. Had Gruum, Skarl or even Brakka decided I’d needed extra sleep?

  I scrambled up, put on my parka, and grabbed something to eat and drink. I joined Gruum and Brakka as they stood around a campfire, warming their hands.

  “Hey, you shouldn’t have let me sleep so long. The flying saucers could have attacked. That might have been a disaster.”

  “It was a risk,” Gruum agreed. “I saw you were exhausted by your midnight ordeal. You’re a hardy Earthman…” He shrugged, even though there was a sparkle in his eyes.

  Maybe it was good for the Old One to have someone needing more sleep than he did. Besides, it was true. I lacked the same heartiness as these Neanderthal cavemen.

  I checked my phasors and put on my special glasses, scanning the skies around the perimeter.

  It was snowing again. The wind howled. Maybe it never ceased on this ice age tundra. I couldn’t find any lingering saucers sneaking around like jackals.

  Brakka left the fire, shouting orders in Gruum’s behalf. Soon, the company headed for the ziggurat. We should make it there today, maybe even farther.

  Halfway through the morning, there was commotion at the head of the company. Skarl called a halt. Soon, he conferred with Brakka. Brakka turned and motioned to me.

  I’d finished scanning the snowy skies, thinking this was a moment for a saucer attack.

  While joining Skarl and Brakka at the head of the formation, I noticed skirmishers or runners returning. One of the three carried a bundle or sack on his shoulder. What had they found? Something important, it seemed.

  Brakka motioned for them to hurry.

  The three runners did just that, with one of them soon unceremoniously dropping the bundle at Gruum’s feet.

  Gruum had been curious enough to leave his pail of coals, and joined us up front.

  The sack squirmed and wriggled. Something was alive in it.

  “What did you catch?” I asked.

  Small hairy fingers poked out of the sack and untied the knots keeping the sack closed. Small hairy arms emerged and pulled down the sack, revealing a frightened Homo habilis.

  He wore clothes, a jacket—he looked familiar to me.

  “Philip?” I said. Now I knew why a different hominid had made the holographic offer before.

  Philip’s head swiveled as if the neck were oiled. “Bayard, help me. Don’t let these savages kill me.”

  “Where did you find him?” I asked the chief runner.

  The Neanderthal eyed me.

  “Well?” Gruum asked.

  The Neanderthal dipped his head to Gruum before regarding me. “This one fled his downed saucer,” the runner said in a guttural voice. “The snowy tracks were faint, but they were enough that we could give chase. He was cunning after a fashion. He must have known we trailed him. Many miles from the crash, we found him hiding among rocks. He killed one of ours with this.” The tracker threw a phasor onto the snow.

  Out of the corner of my eye, I saw Philip calculate its distance from him.

  Before Philip could dive for the phasor, I snatched it up and tucked it away. “Killing our warriors wasn’t a good idea, Philip.”

  For a second, he calculated once more. I knew the look from when I’d been with him in the Chaunt System. He nodded, the look vanishing. “I’ll do whatever you say, just don’t kill me.”

  “Sir,” I asked Gruum. “What’s the consensus on that?”

  Gruum motioned to Brakka and me. The three of us stepped away from the others.

  “Do you know him?” Gruum asked.

  I nodded. “He’s the one who attempted to make me the first holographic offer.”

  “He didn’t attempt,” Brakka said. “He did make you an offer.”

  “Yes, that’s right, he did.”

  “How did he do it?” Brakka asked.

  “Via holoimage,” I said. “But that’s not the point. Philip is a born liar.”

  “We’re well aware of what the First Folk are,” Gruum said.

  I nodded, “Yes, you probably know them better than I do. I’ve dealt with one like him before, also named Philip.”

  “We know most First Folk are clones of an Original,” Gruum said.

  “Yes, yes, sir. I keep forgetting.”

  The forgetting was easy to do, too. The Neanderthals looked and acted like cavemen in an ice-age world with prehistoric beasts. They were Neanderthals, but they weren’t dumb. They were different from Earthmen, that was all.

  “Sir, I suggest we keep him alive and that you allow me to interrogate him.”

  With his single eye, Brakka studied me suspiciously. He glanced meaningfully at Gruum.

  Gruum stroked his scraggly beard as we stood in a blizzard, our backs against the wind.

  “Perhaps we should kill him,” Gruum said. “That would be the wisest. The First Folk are notoriously slippery.”

  “Possibly, possibly,” I said. “But sir, I must tell you that as a Marine, we’ve often found it wise to capture our enemies in order to interrogate them. Often we learn more about the situation on the other side than if we just killed them, remaining ignorant about their problems.”

  “I understand the wisdom of that,” Gruum said slowly.

  “Yes,” Brakka said, “there’s wisdom in the Earthman’s words. I think, however, I should stay with Bayard as he questions…this Philip.”

  “Are you truly that suspicious of me, my friend?” I asked Brakka.

  Brakka heaved a sigh, turning to Gruum. “Even after all Bayard has done for us, I can’t help it. I yearn to defeat the First Folk. It is a taste of blood in my mouth. The Earthman has been amazingly helpful. I do not gainsay that. I don’t think we would have done what we have without him. Yet, we know the cunning of the First Folk. They make deeply laid plans…even while in captivity.”

  Gruum stroked his beard.

  “They’re slippery,” I said, “but they’re not gods. They make mistakes. I’ve seen their mistakes, and I’ve made them pay for them. We should interrogate him. If you want to join me, Brakka, by all means do so. I may not get Philip to drop his guard as much with you there… But that’s fine. I don’t want you to be suspicious of me. I’m all in to help you, sir. I’ve proved it with everything I’ve done. And I plan to continue to prove it.”

  “I believe you,” Gruum said. “Yet, I’ve learned that Brakka’s advice and suspicions are seldom ill-founded.”

  “Hey,” I said, “I get it. I’m not a Neanderthal. I look and even think differently. I’ve told you I’m loyal to your cause. I can’t add to that. My actions speak to the truth of my words.”

  “That is well said,” Gruum told me. “Still, having Brakka with you during the questioning is the stipulation. Can you agree to that?”

  “Absolutely,” I said. “Should we stop the company while I do this?”

  Gruum shook his head. “You will walk apart. Skarl and Zog can follow, ready to fire their lances in case this is an elaborate trap. Remember, Bayard, First Folk are sickeningly clever. We’ve learned that to our sorrow over the centuries.”

  “I’m a tad clever myself, and I know how to deal with liars.”

  “The questioning is in your hands.” Gruum turned to Brakka. “I will go by your counsel after the questioning is over.”

  Brakka and I both nodded. We looked at each other afterward.

  “You and I should talk before we start,” I said.

  Brakka agreed.

  We stepped aside to plan so we could successfully interrogate Philip.

  -31-

  Skarl and Zog took up a position behind us, giving us space and privacy. Others presently hidden by the snowfall followed the two shooters with their lances.

  Otherwise, Brakka, Philip and I were behind the main company and quite alone. By squinting, I could make out Neanderthals ahead through the snowfall.

  Before starting, I gave Philip a water skin and the softest off hardtack. I offered him some jerky as well, but he made a face.

  “No, no, no horrid meat,” Philip said. “What are you thinking, Bayard? Do you believe all the hominids eat the flesh of other creatures?”

  “Uh, yeah,” I said. “If you don’t get enough protein, how are you going to make sure your brain works right?”

  “My brain works just fine, thank you. I’ll take some more of the hardtack, though.”

  Philip was famished, crunching away on the hard biscuit, washing it down with gulps from the skin. He mustn’t have eaten for over twenty-four hours.

  I gave him more.

  Philip ate greedily, chomping away.

  He wore an oversized coat, walking with Brakka and me. Philip limped just a little. He must have noticed me noticing.

  “It would be better if one of these brutes carried me.”

  “You’d be wise to watch what you say, you piece of filth.” Brakka’s anger was palpable.

  Philip shrank from Brakka. He turned to me, pleading with his eyes

  I said nothing.

  It would be better to let Brakka figure it out on his own that he shouldn’t interfere with my interrogation. If I kept telling him, if I kept instructing Brakka on what to do, at a certain point— I was the outsider, the hired help, the mercenary, if you will. Even though I wasn’t sure regarding my pay. Maybe it was my life and the chance to reach the obelisk and go home. I wasn’t sure how quickly I wanted to go home, though. Maybe Earth was in the middle of a nuclear war. Radiation might have reached the subterranean base.

  I walked. Simmering Brakka walked. Philip limped ever so slightly.

  Philip didn’t suggest again that someone carry him. Maybe he steeled himself for the coming ordeal.

  I glanced at Brakka.

  Brakka glared at me. Glared, glared some more and then turned away.

  I might as well get started. “You know, Philip, as you can see, yours is a precarious position here.”

  “True, true,” he said. “Are you also a slave and a prisoner?”

  Brakka whirled around with rage in his eye.

  I held up a hand. The gesture meant the same to Neanderthals as it did to Earthmen. Brakka noticed the hand. I shook my head. Brakka opened his mouth, and I thought, oh boy, here we go. I have to deal with a hothead and a devious liar.

  A modicum of understanding must have come upon Brakka. He closed his mouth and turned away. He didn’t turn in rage or with a sudden, angry gesture.

  I had the feeling he wasn’t going to interrupt right away again. That would allow me to interrogate Philip, at least for a time.

  “Philip,” I said, “your position here isn’t a good one. You were riding a flying saucer, piloting a flying saucer. Likely, you’re the one who killed our mammoths.”

  “That’s not true. I was merely—”

  I held up my hand. For a second, I thought it wouldn’t make any difference. But it did, he closed his mouth.

  “Philip, I’m helping them. I don’t know if you understand what that means.”

  “Of course, I understand,” Philip said. “They wouldn’t have managed all this without—”

  I pointed at him.

  That must have surprised Philip, as he quit talking again.

  “You need to be careful how you answer me,” I said. “Don’t try to sow discord with your answers. If you do, I’ll feel compelled to kill you.”

  I pulled out a knife and showed it to him. People have a thing about edged weapons near their face. I wondered if it was the same for small hominids.

  Philip looked at the naked blade and then me.

  “I’d kill you with this,” I said. “I’d shove it in your guts as I held you down. Think about that.”

  Philip shifted uncomfortably, but he said calmly enough, “You’re a bloodthirsty brute.”

  “I fit in perfectly with these warriors. Does that make the situation clearer to you?”

  It didn’t take Philip long. He nodded glumly.