The Legacy of Heorot by Larry Niven, Jerry Pournelle, Steven Barnes Read Free Book Online Page A

work out for you. We don't want you closing up, Cad. I don't want to lose you." Suddenly she seemed very small and awkward. "I love you. You're my friend."
    The moment that followed was uncomfortably long and painfully silent. Then Cadmann's lips curled in a smile. "Tell you what. Let's go roust Stu's ass and get a lift home. How's that?"
    "Perfect."
    The chicken coops were nestled next to the single-story sheet-metal structure of the machine shop, and the ground around them was well trodden. It had never been plowed, and was the same burnt, packed earth that lay beneath most of the Colony.
    When Cadmann got there, a fifteen-by-thirty-meter block of ground had been marked off with rope to protect the footprints. A score of colonists were still huddled around the periphery. Joe Sikes's wife, Evvie, held her baby tightly against her breast, the child's reddish scalp shining through thin, limp blond hair. The baby gurgled, unconcerned, but the woman looked stricken. Their baby was the colony's second. The first, April Clifton, was still in intensive care.
    Carlos stood with Mitsuo Kokubun and Harry Siep, and they were grinning. Harry preened his heavy growth of beard, hiding his mouth behind his fingers as he whispered something to Mits. All three choked on repressed laughter.
    Zack ran his fingers through black hair that had been noticeably thicker only months before. When Cadmann broke through the ring of spectators and squatted to take a close look at the tracks, Zack punched him lightly on the shoulder, relief and gratitude tattooed across his face in bold strokes.
    "Glad you're here," Zack said. "What do you make of this?"
    Cadmann hitched his trousers and bent, peering closely at the depressed ridges of the footprint. It was just broader than his hand, with four distinct, roughly triangular toes. He ran his finger along it lightly.
    He asked, "Have we taken a cast of this?"
    "Marnie did. We're reinforcing the fences, and we can put the power back through them if we have to."
    There were eight of the prints, some faint, some clear and sharp. One in front of the chicken coop was smeared. He stood and looked back along the path the tracks had taken-they led in the direction of the mountains, but disappeared long before they reached the plowed ground. Suspicion niggled at the back of his mind.
    "You know," Cadmann said finally, "I could have sworn there weren't any tracks here when I left this morning."
    Zack shook his head. "Beats me. There was someone here all the time, Cad. The overcast was pretty bad. Maybe the sun had to be just so high before we could spot them."
    The crowd had thinned a bit.
    "Hola, amigo. Any ideas?"
    Cadmann studied the ground, then Carlos's overeager smile. Little Rick
    Erin, standing next to Carlos, was having trouble managing his face.
    Cadmann walked slowly up to the historian-carpenter. "Yes. I do have an idea. I think it was made by something that was highly skilled, bipedal, not overly intelligent, and weighed about-" he looked Carlos over carefully. "About seventy kilos. I'd guess. We'll call it illegitimus estupido for the time being. I'm mixing languages there, but I think you get my drift."
    He turned on his heel.
    "Cadmann-"
    "Yeah?"
    "Nothing."
    As he walked away Cadmann heard sniggers and the sound of backslapping, idiots. He doused the flare of anger as he came back to the mined coop.
    "What do you think. Cad?" Zack looked puzzled.
    "This was a hoax. This was." Cadmann's face was still burning. "I like the idea of checking the fences. Get them ready." He looked out over the flat ground, past the fluffy cultivated rows, past the ring of thorn trees to the mountains and jungle beyond. "Listen, Zack, maybe the footprints were a hoax, but these chickens are still dead. I don't think we've got anyone dumb enough to murder a bunch of our chickens for a joke. I don't much care who laughs at me-let's be ridiculously cautious for a while, eh?"
    Cadmann stepped on the nearest print. If he had