The Ride. Tom Ph.D. Anderson
three hunters looked at each other for a moment, and then Andy spoke for them all. “Our three families lived within a short walk of each other. We grew up together. We spent our school vacations on hunting planets. When we graduated mandatory we decided to become Ghoul Hunters. Our parents forbid us. My mother said she would never sleep again if she found out I had been killed and eaten by a gloride monster. Isaac’s and Johan’s mothers said pretty much the same thing.”
“When we earn enough money to retire and go back as wealthy men, they’ll take us back,” said Isaac.
“We had our travel papers and the tattoos on the bottom of our feet altered,” Johan said with a determined look on his face. “If the impossible happens and we are killed there won’t be any way to tell where we’re from.”
“If we are killed we would rather our parents spend the rest of their lives believing we are still out in the galaxy hunting and living the life we always wanted,” Andy said, again speaking for them all.
“We better get back to work,” Johan said, breaking the mood. The three hunters spread out forming a distant semi circle around me as I started to reassemble the atmosphere regulator I had dropped.
My potential licensed Ghoul Hunters turned out to be men with incredibly fast reflexes and were well trained with the particularly wicked looking ceramic weapons they carried. I had no doubt that if that gloride monster crossed our path, they would collect that bounty.
In the next week two more groups of miners were killed. One of those groups included another atmosphere technician. He was off duty and looking to earn some extra money. I had many a beer with the man and he had no more skill with weapons than I had. I suspected the others killed were no better. As panic set in, less than half the mining crews were reporting for their shifts. The company had assured everyone that a Ghoul Hunter Team had been hired and was on the way. It didn't help because no one believed them. Ghoul Hunter Teams were just not that easy to come by in the Market Sphere. Even among the miners who did show up, very little work was being done.
Even so, men have to breathe and I was very confident in the ability of the three hunters at my back. The day the croc showed up my three hunters gave out a roar of triumph. They had hunted many a large, vicious animal on the surface with these same weapons. The croc was as good as dead. Their only concern was that they kill the croc before it could get away.
They had the gloride monster cornered in a bend in the tunnel. The croc was about to be pierced by several razor sharp blades and the three hunters were finally going to qualify for their Ghoul Hunter license.
The croc appeared to be slow and shambling, but at the last moment a lightning fast claw knocked aside a spear and with the other claw Isaac’s head went flying. The other two spears slammed into the croc with all the force their owners could manage. They didn't penetrate. The two hunters dropped their spears as they backed away and pulled out a long needle sharp spike attached to a handle like a two handed sword. Again they charged the creature and again they didn't penetrate. A claw came down and shoulder to crotch separated Johan into two pieces. The last hunter turned to run as a claw cut him shoulder to waist. I saw the look in Andy's eyes as his head, left shoulder, and arm, slowly slid from the rest of his body.
The croc locked eyes with mine, screamed, and charged. The hammer, which I had been holding tightly, dropped from my suddenly nerveless hands. I was dead and I knew it. As the gloride monster closed with me something clicked in and my body began to move on its own. It was as if I were on a fun house ride. My body was moving, but I had absolutely no control over my movements.
The Ride was running at the croc as it raised its huge claw to cut me in half. At the last instant as the claw came down The Ride swiveled and the claw only brushed the edge of my shirt. The Ride used the force of the swivel as part of the energy used by the fist of my opposite hand as it slammed into the chest of the croc just at the full extension of my bodies arm, all the force and momentum of my entire body balanced on the one knuckle that perfectly hit the edge of one rib bone.
My fist bounced off, but not before I felt the bone break. The croc swiveled to swing its claw at me again, but The Ride swiveled with it. The claw missed and my body was able to strike the croc again, this time with the butt of the palm of my hand. My body pushed a piece of the broken bone deep into the croc's chest. The Ride used the force of the blow to push me back so my body could roll away and jump to its feet. The croc took a step towards me and fell down. Except for the trickle of blood coming out of the croc's mouth, it looked completely undamaged. The Ride was over. I could move myself again.
I ran to the nearest alarm and hit it as hard as I could. I looked at the three men. All three of them were beyond help. I found Isaac’s head and laid it by his body. One by one I closed their eyes and said goodbye. I lowered my chin to my chest and asked that the three men get their wish, that their parents spend the rest of their lives believing that their sons were happily hunting and living the life of their dreams. I hoped they were.
Moments later several hunter teams swarmed into the corridor. I told them that I hit the croc and it fell down and died. My words were ignored. My three guardian hunters, laying in pieces on the floor, were assumed to have inflicted mortal wounds in the creature that eventually killed the croc, but not before the croc killed them. The croc was rolled over and there were no signs of any wounds at all.
The croc must have died a natural death, just as it was about to kill me. A heart attack, a brain aneurysm, some vital organ of the croc must have failed just as it was about to kill me. I was the luckiest man ever born. That I might have had anything to do with the croc’s death was totally discounted. And I believed them. It was coincidence that the croc had died just as I was pummeling it with my fists. I was on the razors edge of death and I was the luckiest man alive, but I was on the razors edge of death and I badly needed a drink. I collected some friends and went down to the lounge with the intention of drinking the place dry.
<><>
The croc was taken to the morgue for an autopsy. The croc’s outside was examined carefully for any wounds, and there were none. Gloride monsters are creatures with very tough hides adapted for tunneling through the soft rock of gloride formations, but this croc's hide was incredibly tough. With great difficulty they finally managed to cut through the croc's hide to find the cause of death. It had a broken bone in its ribcage, and a piece of that bone had somehow been pushed through its heart.
The point recorder in the mine was reviewed. The blows Bob Nesslun had made on the croc were consistent for shattering a rib bone into several sharp pieces, one of which would be pointed at the croc's heart, and pushing that piece of bone through that heart. Bob Nesslun was awarded the bounty. Ten years of pay in one lump.
◊The lounge had several bottles of my favorite wine. It was very expensive, so I would usually only buy a bottle on special occasions. If there ever was a special occasion, this was it. I could have been dead. I was drinking my favorite wine like it was the cheapest beer. I was at the point where I was seriously considering asking the bartender to get me an escort back to my own quarters, my drinking companions either passed out or in as bad shape as I was, when two aides from the mine managers office came in to tell me the good news.
The mine manager wanted to see me immediately, drunk or sober. The manager's office was on the far edge of the mine and up to the surface. Quite a distance to take a man who could barely walk and who had to be half carried all the way. We were going through another lounge area just off the surface run, when we heard screams coming from the bar. The two aides ran ahead to see what the problem was. I was running to the bar area because my bottle of wine was almost empty. The last thing I remember was standing in the bar, wondering where they kept my favorite wine.
I woke up in a bed at the clinic with the worst hangover I had ever had. The nurse sitting beside my bed got up and left the room. A moment later the Mine Manager walked in. The Mine Manager was the most important man on Nimbus. I had seen him from a distance, but never actually met him. I looked at him through a bloodshot haze and he smiled at me. I wanted to rip his face off. He asked me how I felt. I chose my words carefully, deciding not to use the colorful and totally appropriate