Mirabile by Janet Kagan Read Free Book Online Page A

promise.”
    That eased the tension in her eyes somewhat, even though I hadn’t the vaguest idea what we’d work out. Still, a good night’s sleep—even a short one—was always guaranteed to help. With a few more hugs, I stumbled off to bed.
    Morning came the way it usually did for me this time of year—much too early.
    Leo, bless him, was up but quiet. The first thing I wanted was a good look at the otters’
    playground. That was near enough to where I’d seen the creature that maybe we could find some tracks. This side of Loch Moose got its sunlight early if at all.
    Luckily, the day was a good one and the scenery was enough to make you glad you had eyes and ears and a nose.
    I stood for a moment trying to orient myself, then pointed. “Somewhere around here. I’m pretty sure that’s where I heard it.” We separated.
    Something that big should have left visible evidence of its passing. The popcorn tree was my first break. Something had eaten all the lower leaves from it and done some desultory gnawing at its bark into the bargain. That was several days earlier, from the look of the wood, so I didn’t find any tracks to go with it.
    Now, the popcorn tree’s native to Mirabile, so we were dealing with a creature that either didn’t have long to live or was a Dragon’s Tooth suited to the EC. Still, it was an herbivore, unless it was one of those exceptions that nibbled trees for some reason other than nourishment.
    But it was big
    ! I might have discounted the height it could reach as something that stood on its hind feet and stretched, but this matched the glimpse I’d gotten by nova light.
    Leo called and I went to see what he’d found. When I caught up with him, he was staring at the ground. “Annie, this thing weighs a ton!” He pointed.

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    Hoofprints sunk deep into the damp ground. He meant “ton” in the literal sense. I stooped for a closer look, then unshipped my backpack, and got out my gear. “Get me a little water, will you, Leo?” I handed him a folded container. “I want to make a plaster cast. Hey!” I added as an afterthought. “Keep your eyes open!”
    He grinned. “Hard to miss something that size.”
    “You have up to now,” I pointed out. I wasn’t being snide, just realistic. I’m happy to say he understood me.
    I went back to examining the print. It was definitely not deer, though it looked related. The red deer survived by sticking to a strict diet of Earth-authentic, which meant I couldn’t draw any real conclusions from the similarities. I was still betting herbivore, though maybe it was just because I was hoping.
    I was purely tired of things that bit or mangled or otherwise made my life miserable. Seemed to me it was about time the Dragon’s Teeth started to balance out and produce something useful.
    By the time we mixed the plaster and slopped it into the print, I’d decided that I should be grateful for Susan’s clogweed-eaters and Leo’s pansies and not expect too much of our huge surprise package.
    “Leo, I think it’s an herbivore. That doesn’t mean it isn’t dangerous—you know what a stag can do—but it means I don’t want it shot on sight.”
    “You wouldn’t want it shot on sight if it were a carnivore,” he said. “If I didn’t shoot the first beastly on sight, I’m not likely to shoot this without good reason.”
    I fixed him with a look of pure disgust. The disgust was aimed at me, though. I knew the name Leonov Denness should have rung bells, but I’d gotten distracted by the nickname.
    Back when he was Leonov
    Opener
    Denness, he’d been the scout that opened and mapped all the new territory from Ranomafana to Goddamn! He brought back cell samples of everything he found, that being part of the job; but he’d also brought back a live specimen of the beastly, which was at least as nasty as the average kangaroo rex and could fly to boot. When Granddaddy Jason asked him why he’d gone to the trouble, he’d only shrugged and said,