"That's it?" Smith bleated in horror as he looked over the equipment supplied by the Robinson leader and his pilot. "That's exactly what I didn't want."
Chuckling low in his gut, Don stated, "Oh, you want it. You just don't know it, yet."
The table the next morning was filled with guy wires connected securely to triangularly arranged, three-bladed arrowheads, although many times bigger than those used in archery. There were four of them to be precise. Vicious looking, to Smith's eye, but probably serviceable enough to pierce the beasts hide. He hoped.
Those were rigged into something that looked like a standard harpoon gun. The cables then were joined to a winch. Even to Smith's untrained eyes, once the broadheads embedded in the beast's flesh, the cables continued on to the next component.
There were several winches, small but durable. The cables were already tightly and perfectly wound around the winch drum.
"After we install these, we'll be ready to go."
"That's well and good for you to say but at the moment I'm really not feeling very well."
"That's because you were too busy stuffing your face," Don said, looking perfectly serious.
"Barbed insults will not win my cooperation, Major. A man can't do manual labor without food to sustain him."
"And you are amply 'sustained'. So let me go over it. We hover over your so-called Leviathan. When we get close enough, we release the harpoon, then after the tension is even we'll pull ourselves down onto its back. You are going to hop down and collect your sample, get back onboard. We release the cables at the same time, and off we go. To put it plainer, after I do my job, you see if any blood or other fluids well up. Then you collect and off we go."
Steely blue eyes bored into brown ones. "You are completely cognizant of the fact that it'll be like putting the Pod on a piece of ground while said ground is experiencing a 9.1 earthquake, correct?
Don backhanded him with a playful slap. "Come on, Smitty. It'll be fun."
Smith's mind muttered, "Fun, my ass." But aloud he stated, "Next time I suggest something like this, just shoot me and get it over with before the 'fun stuff' starts."
Don noted that he didn't add, "And don't call me Smitty." But he let it ride. The doctor's mind was probably awhirl with all manner of mission failure scenarios and not in the mood to play games of that sort. Which was also fine with him.
"I still say the Professor is better equipped for this," Smith groused then threw up a warning hand. "I know, I know. I've been elected because I'm expendable."
Don stated, "Exactly, you have no choice in the matter so don't argue with me."
At first Smith's mouth opened slightly then he shut it with an audible snap. Truth be told, he could have put up a verbal fight but what was the point of wasting all those fight or flight hormones. He made a mental note to self that he had to save his adrenalin for when he really needed to panic. Now was certainly not one of those times.
Checking out the equipment again, Don handed one of the winches and cables to the doctor who acted like it weighed 500 pounds, but Smith didn't verbally protest. He took two, brought them out to the Pod and went back in for the last winch and sundry other items he thought he'd need. Smith plopped down in an outside chair and waited on him. Don stared at him for a second and mentally sighed.
Maureen had once talked about passive-aggressive behavior during a general conversation and although it wasn't directed at any one crewmember in particular, Don was aware that her descriptions matched one person's odd behaviors. The accidents that happened after performing the simplest tasks. All the times said person refused to accept responsibility for nearly everything. The constant absenteeism or excuses for sitting around. That was Smith alright. Understanding it also helped him to maneuver around that man's complex nature. If nothing else there was less damage to repair later on.
"Still more to move. I'll take the heavier stuff." There, that removed the most obvious complaint.
Groaning as if his back was killing him already, the doctor went to retrieve the items Don specified and brought them to the Pod. Naturally, Don watched him like a hawk, making sure the gear was stowed properly. Then he attached each winch to the Pod's exterior and connected the modified controls for it inside the cabin of the Pod itself. That way they could control release of the harpoons and cables from the inside rather than being hands on with it. Once everything was ready, he climbed aboard and started the pre-flight check. "Up ya go, Smith."
Once in the air again, the Major piloted directly for the last position of the Leviathan. He had little doubt that it was traveling on a straight course. And, sure enough, the mountainous beast was lumbering forward at a snail's pace, death and destruction before and after it. The maw was opening. Giant teeth-like slabs were slamming into the earth, everything disappearing down the stadium sized gullet.
"I'm assuming you don't want to reconsider, correct?" Smith said through gritted teeth. "So I presume you want me to start hooking up the harpoon lines to the winch cables."
Looking over his shoulder, Don saw his companion already beginning the process. He shook his head. Raving coward one minute, brave the next. The Major was sure he'd never figure the guy out. But as long as "Brave Smith" was in the forefront of this mission, he wouldn't worry. Much.
Soon they hovered over the beast; it's rolling back, rising and falling beneath them in a steady rhythm. "Take the controls," Don ordered. "I'll deal with the harpoons, unless you'd rather do that part. It's not like you can 'miss'."
"Not a chance. In case you forgot, you neglected to instruct me on how to propel the harpoons or work the winches," Smith said, both hands firmly clasping the joysticks. Those hands shifted a bit as he adjusted subtly to stay on course.
"The winches are like the ones on the chariot, only a little bigger. You've watched me use it a dozen times at least."
"Watching and doing are two distinctly different activities, Major."
Don threw up his hands in mock surrender, already knowing the outcome of the conversation. "Relax, I'll handle it. That was the plan anyway."
As West readied himself, Smith forced his whole concentration on the undulating and gargantuan mass of flesh stretching before him. He heard a 'phwunk' sound, then three more, then a whine as the gears on the winch started pulling up the slack in the cables.
The whole Pod suddenly jerked. Smith gasped audibly but bit back a scream. Now was the time for panic, he was sure of it. Adrenalin in massive amounts was surging like lightning through his veins. Nothing in his life experiences had prepared him for this wild ride. But he held it together psychologically and intuitively course corrected. The tiny vehicle bobbed and swayed but stayed upright. Beside him he heard Don working the controls as he tried to even out the cables to make the descent smoother.
"Almost…almost…," Don shouted. "A few more feet. There! Hold it steady, let me see what those 'hairs' feel like. See if they are thick enough to support us." There was more scrabbling and the Major literally leaned out of the hatch and stretched to touch the waving fibers just below him. His probing hand found them springing and supple and more like fur than feathering, albeit fur seemingly comprised of an enormous forest of saplings.
"What is the depth to the epidermis?" asked Smith. "Can you tell?"
"The epiwho?" He had to yell over the sound of the rumbling around them. The movement of the creature over the earth was deafening.
Although Don couldn't see it, Smith grimaced. "It can't be that long since you took high school biology. The skin. The skin, you dimwitted dolt." He had to truly holler over the din so that West didn't miss a word.
Of course, Don would have hurled an insult back at him but there wasn't enough time to think of a good one. Besides, the Pod was still swaying wildly and he suddenly wished they'd come up with a different Plan B. Working the controls, he evenly guided the Pod until it was nested on flattened hairs. As Smith had predicted, it almost felt like a huge earthquake except that it was more rhythmic. Like riding the waves of an enormous storm was more accurate. Cresting and falling then cresting again. The cables held the vehicle in place. The beast didn't even seem to be aware that it'd just been speared and was progressing on its preordained path. Unfortunately, both pilot and copilot were having a hard time not getting tossed about. Both of them were hanging onto whatever available surface they had. At first Smith clamped down on the Joysticks and thought better of it. The vehicle was as secured as it could get. He turned off the antigrav drive system in the off chance it may have caused the beast noticeable discomfort. Logic told him there was no point in irritating the thing so much it would try bucking them off. If Don didn't approve of his decision, the man could change it himself, Smith reasoned silently. But Don was either ignoring this or was simply too busy with lowering the short rope ladder to pay attention.
"You're up," announced Don within seconds.
Only a few rungs were dangling down between hatch and the cushion of Leviathan fur and skin. But it seemed miles deep to Smith. The doctor peered over the edge of the swaying hatch. "I'm no hero," he said with simple yet profound self-realization. "I'm not sure I can do this."
By way of an answer, Don held out a harness and helped Smith into it, which wasn't easy given all the motion they simply couldn't control. Then he hooked a sturdy line to it. "If you have any problems, I'll drag you back in. Better I do it than you, right?"
Smith threw on a bag, cross shouldered, and gave a quick glimpse inside. Once satisfied, he turned terrified eyes on the Major. When he didn't say anything, Don clamped a hand on his shoulder. "Trust me. I won't let anything happen to you." He lightly tapped the laser pistol strapped to his side.
And to think I gave up a warm, safe prison cell and three square meals a day for this, he told himself. Of course, Zachary, old boy, you could have been stuck with a linebacker sized roommate with a penchant for male companionship. Without realizing it he trembled.
"Get a move on, Smith. We don't have all day."
Grabbing the rim of the hatch, Smith lowered himself to the ladder and slowly made his way down to the heaving back of the animal. Thankfully it wasn't as far as he thought because the Pod had flattened much of the trunk-like fibers of fur. The vehicle looked like an orange and white bird sitting on a nest in a windstorm.
Immediately, he located the nearest harpoon and the welling silvery ichor around it. The next bounce of the Leviathan threw him upward. For a brief moment he felt weightless. Then he fell back onto the beast's enormous dorsal side. The vista made him think of the one time he'd been on deck of an aircraft carrier in heavy seas. Scrambling to get his feet beneath him, he grabbed fistfuls of uncompressed fur and rocked with the motion. By the time he got to the open wound, he was starting to get his 'sea legs' or 'beast-riding legs' or whatever anyone cared to name it. Kneeling down, he wrapped one arm around a clump of fur that towered well above him. That kept him fairly steady and left his hands free. Withdrawing a large vial, he scooped up the mercury-like fluid into it, capped it and retrieved a second vial.
"Never thought I'd understand how a tick feels!" he muttered aloud. He filled a few more vials and with a scalpel, he cut off some skin samples from around the wound. They were already feathered from the motion of the harpoon and the thing wouldn't even know they were being slit and plucked like flowers. Or so he fervently hoped.
Cleary Don was getting antsy. Over the thunderous rumble, he bellowed, "How's it going?"
Turning, Smith didn't bother to shout. Instead, he made a 'thumbs up' gesture and began to make his way back. Another drop of the granite toothed maw caused him to stumble. Landing with a muffled, "oof" that he couldn't even hear, he quickly righted himself, and ran like Quasimodo in the Hunchback of Notre Dame, knees bent, back curled. He found a pair of waiting hands, which clasped his as soon as he tried to step up.
"Got everything?" In answer, Smith tapped the bag.
"Careful, don't break anything. Wouldn't want to send you out there again!" Don yelled, as an evil gleam appeared in his eye.
Smith smirked. "Once was quite enough, thank you very much! And I'd very much appreciate it if you'd immediately facilitate a hasty retreat."
Saluting smartly and with just a tad of respect, Don replied, "Aye, Aye, Colonel." He fired the primary thrusters, flicked on the antigrav drive and as soon as the cables were taught, he released them, leaving cable and harpoons behind. Almost instantly, they were aloft. Another undulating mound of flesh nearly knocked them back but the difference of a few feet between them and living tissue was enough to keep them both safe.
Once well above the noise and destruction, Don called John and reported that all had gone according to plan, that they were both safe despite the jarring ride, and soon they'd be back with the samples.