Free Parker Interstellar Travels 6: The Celaran Ruins by Michael McCloskey

containers. If we need it, we’ll come back later.”
    “Something
might—oh, nevermind. I guess nothing would eat Terran food.”
    “Dunno.
Seems unlikely,” Imanol said.
    They
went through their packs and gathered a few containers and bags. Jason also had
one empty water bottle he decided would come in handy. They caught a few
insect-like things.
    “Here’s
one that can hide itself,” Jason said. “These ten-legged ones can flatten
themselves against the vine so much I can barely see them. The sparkly parts of
their body fold in flush against the vine.”
    “Yeah,
as soon as I reach for them it’s like they disappear. And they’re hard to
dislodge when they do that,” Imanol agreed. “Let’s find something bigger.”
    Jason
reviewed the creature catalog they had collected from attendant observations.
Something seemed wrong compared to what he knew of biodiversity on other
planets.
    “You
know, I’m looking at that catalog from the attendants. There’s not that many
different critters here. Siobhan is probably right. It really is like they just
chose a few to bring with them.”
    “Could
be. Or maybe we’re missing a lot somewhere. This is only one spot.”
    “Well,
any other forest would have hundreds or thousands of types of bugs and animals,
right? We see here only like six small animals and like ten or twelve different
kinds of bug-things.”
    “Well,
maybe the life on Celara doesn’t mutate much compared to Earth. Maybe there
just aren’t any chemical mutagens, or the creatures defend themselves against
it.”
    “Isn’t
mutation a tremendous evolutionary advantage?” Jason asked.
    “On
Earth, yes. Here or Celara? I don’t know. If Celara is more stable and
homogenous than Earth, there could be fewer types of critters. Low disruption
rates would reduce the need for life forms to constantly change.”
    “I
wonder if intelligence would ever emerge in such a place,” Jason said.
    Imanol
was on his hands and knees examining the vine up close. Jason swept his eyes
around the forest. He did not want to get ambushed by a nasty creature.
    “See
these little indentations? They’re along a twisting little trail,” Imanol said.
    “Looks
like caterpillar footprints.”
    “Yes,
I think something walked over the vine there with pincer feet or something.”
    Imanol
produced some spherical objects from under the nearest leaf. They were orange
with brown swirls.
    “We
should take these in.”
    “What
are they?”
    “I
don’t know. If I knew, I wouldn’t say we should take them in. They could be
plants, fruit, eggs, anything.”
    “I
guess we have to,” Jason said.
    “What?
What’s wrong?”
    “Well,
you know, in all the VRs they always show up on a new planet, grab some funny
looking rocks or something, they turn out to be eggs, which hatch on board the
ship and whatever comes out eats them all one by one.”
    “We’ll
keep them contained.”
    “That’s
what they always say on the VRs, too. It never works.”
    “Well
then we’ll shoot whatever comes out.”
    “They
say that too. Never works.”
    Imanol
just gave Jason a warning look and put the objects into a container.
    “A
few years back on Indigo Station...” Imanol began.
    “Uh
oh, another story coming on,” Jason said.
    “Oh
yah? Okay, you do the story this time,” challenged Imanol.
    “Me?
You know this is all being recorded for the team?”
    “Yeah
so? We’re supposed to be professional every second? We’re only Terran. Not
robots.”
    “Okay,
well, I was recently at Stark’s!”
    “What?”
    “I
was in Stark’s.”
    What’s
confusing about that? He just doesn’t believe his ears.
    “Stark’s
what?” Imanol persisted.
    “Seriously?”
    “Jason.
What. Are. You. Talking about?”
    “You
know, Stark’s, the famous flying dance club? Moves around all over Earth, major
hotspot of famous and noteworthy Citizens?”
    “No,
I don’t know anything about it,” Imanol said.
    Now
it was Jason’s turn.