Beowulf's Children

But that wasn't what captured their interest. That wasn't what caught every eye in the lounge. No one seemed to breathe. Heartbeats may have frozen still.

There, perched above the torn and bloodied body of the pig-creature...

Was a grendel.

A voice came over the speaker in the lounge. "Grendel kill," Linda said from the control room. "We have just seen a grendel kill." The clear curving outer wall clouded, and a video window opened up on its right side. The death scene was replayed for them in slow motion.

The camera brought them in close. The herd of pig-beasts drank slowly and carefully. Three stood guard above the bank while the herd went down to the water, just a few at a time, in a clumsy, laughable waddle. Then, in slow motion now, the pond's surface bulged, broke, and four meters of black death exploded from the depths.

Jessica whispered, "Oh God," just as stu

Blunt snout. Crocodile armor. Blunt, spiked tail. It emerged at rocket speed, and the pig-thing died snorting water and blood. Its body deformed as the grendel struck it. It tumbled back, plowing up dust and grass. The computer, enhancing some kind of wide-angle holo view, kept right with it. Another, wider-screen angle, still in slow motion, showed that the other animals broke and headed for cover almost instantly, ru

Grendel teeth had torn its victim's belly and rib cage open. Blood spurted, covering the grendel's snout. It burrowed its teeth into the wound, head deep. It ripped out a mouthful of viscera before looking around, and then up, directly at Robor.

It opened its mouth, and closed it in that disorienting holographic slow motion. Blood and saliva drooled away from the dagger-like teeth, droplets ru

Was it the sound of the skeeter engines? Their aerial bulk? The grendel's eyes locked with them, as if uncertain of Robor's distance. As if it thought they might challenge it for the meat.

It screamed a scream that they couldn't hear. Then it turned, and hooked its spiked tail into the carcass. Its tail differed from pictures of the Avalon grendels, with one big, gaudy hook almost underneath, and the shattered scar where a matching hook had been.

The pig's, bleeding had slowed to a trickle. Its feet still trembled a bit. Just a twitch, now. The grendel dragged it back, down into the water.

And the moment after it sank, the recording played again at normal speed. The pig-things approached the shore; one darted in to drink; death smashed into it and tore it apart. Jessica flinched violently.

"Jesus," Aaron said. "I love those damned things."

She looked at him, and for a moment, felt something akin to jealousy. Love hadn't been too strong a word. His eyes burned. The grendels represented something... raw power, absolute single-mindedness... naked ferocity?

Some quality or gestalt that Aaron Tragon respected.

Admired.

Loved.

She had never been certain that he loved her. But she could never doubt that he loved grendels. Loved hunting and killing them, likely enough. But loved them. More, probably, than he loved anything else in the world.

How very odd to feel jealous of a monster. But Aaron can't really love grendels! I couldn't love a man who—

There was more to see: plains that sloped away from the mountains. Get a kilometer or so from ru

Here, the brush thickened to jungle density. Her heart leapt. There had been virtually no exploration of the mainland forests. Almost no categorization of flora or fauna. Little mapping, save by satellite. Except for territory immediately surrounding the mining concerns, there had been precious little of anything.

And now... a lot of that was going to change.

Lunch came and went before they caught sight of their destination. It emerged from a smoky haze, mist so thick it was almost like volcanic ash. The mountain was bare and weathered, curved and hollowed, spotted here and there with patches of green until it resembled a mossy skull.

Pterodons arced gracefully through the heights: a touch of something familiar, thank God.

Jessica's hands moved by themselves, checking her rucksack, as she gazed out. This land, this whole land, was theirs for the taking...

It seemed that Aaron was reading her mind. "They don't want it," he said, shaking his head as if in amazement. His strong, sure fingers dug into her shoulders. It hurt, just a little bit.

That was like Aaron. He hurt, a little. It was difficult for him to remember just how strong he was. So strong, so smart... so sure of himself. It was no wonder that she was in love with him. His air of remoteness only increased the temptation, and the value of the prize.

The burr of the skeeter engines grew throaty. The floor vibrated beneath her feet as Robor took an eastern heading, sliding along a table of mountains. It was the warm season, and everything was green and brown and yellow-blue. Later in the year, there would be snow. Farther inland there were higher ranges, but here, barely two hundred miles from the coast, was a rich supply of ore. Robor passed over the first mining camp. Jessica wandered up to the control center, where Linda and Joe were reviewing telemetric reports from the site.

"Anything new?" she asked. She ducked her head to fit into the low-ceilinged room. She watched the computers and screens as Linda pored over them, completely absorbed.

"Ah... nothing. Everything is just fine. We'll be at the site in less than an hour. Check there first, and then we can look back and check the others."

"Any additional information?"

"Not sabotage."

"Why?" she asked, trying to keep the relief from her voice.

"The vibration signature. It's more like black powder than any of our standard blasting compounds. If somebody was going to booby-trap our mining equipment, they wouldn't use some kind of unstable low-yield compound. They'd use something concentrated, neat, reliable. That's what I'm thinking. This is just weird."

Jessica laid a hand on her shoulder. "Oh well. You'll have your chance to inspect things close up in... "

"Thirty-seven minutes," Linda said.

"Then we're over Grendel Valley. Aaron should be thrilled."