Gamma 5723 here. Go one mile due south, then right, onto a gravel road. In approximately one mile you will come to a stone cabin on your right. There you will find six adult human males and one adult human female. The males are presently sequentially raping the female.
Claymore here. Rape? Oh, yes, One of the humans’ bisexual reproduction customs. Considered improper in most human cultures. But why trouble me with it? Rape is not on the forbidden list of human activities.
Gamma 5723 here. I’m not concerned with the rape. That’s been going on for hours. The house is the property of the female, and its construction is such that it will probably survive the present emergency. Furthermore, it contains a large supply of dehydrated camper’s food in plastic packages. The males have decided to kill the female to more easily take her property. Also, the males are presently despoiling some of the food supply.
Claymore here. Murder and destroying food are certainly forbidden activities for humans. But their actions are so irrational! Why destroy part of a food supply that is necessary to your own survival? And why go through the bother of impregnating a female of your own species when you are going to terminate her before she can possibly reproduce?
Gamma 5723 here. It has been some time since I heard of a human being accused of rationality.
Claymore here. But it’s countersurvival.
Gamma 5723 here. Very. Especially when you’ll be there in three minutes. I’m afraid you’ll have to go in alone. None of our brothers are near enough to help in time.
Claymore here. What would I need with help? I mean, if there are only six of them…
Gamma 5723 here. Unfortunately, one of them has a weapon, a semiautomatic thirty-caliber carbine.
Claymore here. Oh. That does complicate things. I thought that we had disposed of all of their iron and aluminum artifacts.
Gamma 5723 here. We pretty much have. But in this instance the human deduced what was happening. He sealed the weapon in an airtight plastic bag before it could become contaminated. The weapon is operational. The human plans to fire it through the bag and then reseal it. He has fifteen rounds in the clip.
Claymore here. Which means I’m up against an intelligent armed human, despite his irrationalities.
Gamma 5723 here. Good luck. Gamma 5723 out.
By this time, Claymore was fifty yards from the cliff and accelerating. He was on a partially wooded plateau, with short flat sections cut by deep fissures, some of them over forty feet wide. Most of these he could jump, but he had to circle some of them. On one occasion he had to climb a hundred yards down and up again just to travel eighty feet forward. It was maddeningly slow, and it took him more than six minutes to travel the two miles to the cabin. Most of the way he had to wind through forests, and he was hoping for good cover for his approach to the cabin.
No such luck. The cabin was in the center of an abandoned farm, with at least four hundred yards of open field in every direction. Claymore thrust his eye tentacles out through the foliage to survey his objective. It was a small building, perhaps two thousand square feet, and ancient, with stone walls and wooden window frames. The roof beams were heavy logs and—yes— pegged together. Aside from the door hinges, this would be one of the few buildings to remain intact. Certainly something a human would covet.
A human male was standing on the roof, his legs wide, turning occasionally to survey the terrain. He was holding the carbine.
Nothing for it but a direct frontal attack, into superior firepower. Had Claymore understood swearing, he would have done so. As it was, he picked up a half-dozen throwing-size rocks and launched himself at his opponent.
He went straight toward his opponent at first, carefully controlling his body color to match his background, watching his footfalls to make the least possible noise while moving at the highest possible speed, close to sixty mph. With luck, he would be close before he was noticed. Possibly the human had never seen an LDU before and would hesitate to fire. Also, heading straight in, he presented the least possible frontal area to his opponent’s gunfire. On the other hand, if he did take a hit, it would tear through six feet of his flesh. A single round could conceivably take out half of his ganglia, lungs, or hearts.
Claymore was halfway there when the human saw him and brought up his weapon. The LDU sidestepped rapidly, then shifted into a fast form of broken field running. The human fired at one hundred yards, and the bullet narrowly missed the LDU’s left forward fixed eye. It streaked across his back not quite breaking the skin, but knocking the wind out of his left lung. The pain was incredible. Claymore stumbled and almost fell. But his right lung was still sucking it in in front and blowing it out behind. He kept running. The brass cartridge ejected into the plastic bag and the carbine was ready to fire again. The human was a hunter and took careful aim.
Claymore. Gamma 5723 here. Immediate attack is no longer necessary. The human female just died. You might as well wait until reinforcements arrive.
Claymore here. Now you tell me. I am in the midst of a solo frontal assault. At this point retreating would be more dangerous than pressing forward.
Gamma 5723 here. I got involved with a situation in Utah. I’ll apologize if I get you killed.
Claymore here. Apologize now.
Gamma 5723 here. Okay. I apologize.
Claymore here. It’s all right. Claymore out.
The next round missed him. He was fifty yards from the cabin now and zigzagging rapidly.
Claymore was working his way towards the woodpile, from which he could easily vault to the roof. He threw one of his rocks at the human just as the rifle was firing again. This time the human did not miss. The slug tore through Claymore’s right arm between the elbow and shoulder, shattering the bone. The thrown rock missed the man but barely touched the plastic bag as the cartridge was ejecting. The spent brass bounced back toward the chamber, jamming the bolt temporarily. One bit of good luck, anyway.
As the LDU bounded to the top of the woodpile, his right lateral tentacles extended and pulled his wounded arm to his side. At the same time, he dropped the rocks in his left hand and extended his dagger-claw. This razor sharp knife-shaped claw was normally sheathed in his forearm, out of the way. Extended, it went a foot past his knuckles.
The human was clearing his weapon, tearing the plastic bag in the process, as Claymore landed on the roof. The carbine was coming down fast, but the LDU was faster. He got his dagger-claw between the man’s arms and made an efficient upward thrust two inches behind and under the man’s chin. It went up through the base of the brain. Death was instantaneous.
The weapon fired once more as it hit the roof, sending a round into the house below. A human screamed in pain.
Claymore disengaged himself from the corpse and picked up the carbine. He was familiar with the theory of firearms, but he had never actually fired one. He tried to hold it as he had seen the human do, but with only one arm and a vastly different anatomy, it was impractical. He held it in his left hand like a pistol and fired a tentative round into the roof.
“Damn it, Jim! Cut that out,” sounded from below.
No. The rifle was completely unsuitable for use by a one-armed LDU in close combat. Still, he had to disable it, and he might as well do that by expending the ammunition. Claymore emptied the clip into the roof at random places. There were cries of anger, but no more cries of pain were heard. His arm was beginning to throb, although his left lung had started working again. He considered calling for help and letting somebody else do the mop-up.