by Luke Norris
Lego was silent for a while before answering. “That was not you!” Lego didn't need to ask what horrors Oliver had seen in his dream. He knew what the drivers were capable of doing planetside in their drug-induced state. Oliver had been selected as a driver, just like all the other serfs being transported on this ship. When the general population of the planet was drugged through the water and air, drivers like Oliver would command the masses at the behest of their masters.
“You were not in control Cougar.”
“I know. That's why I have to have this surgery Lego.” Oliver looked up at his small friend through wet eyes. “I can never let them use me like that again! I understand there’s a risk it may not be successful, but it’s a risk I have to take.
“That is correct. Our whole operation is a risk, but we have no more time, Toro has informed me that the ship’s maneuvering is consistent with entering an orbit.”
The words caught Oliver by surprise, and he pushed himself up to a sitting position. Lego’s voice was the same robotic monotone, but he sensed the extra urgency.
“Well I want you guys to know, you're my family.” Oliver held Lego’s small arm. “I'm doing this for us, not for me.”
Sleep alluded Oliver the night before his operation if he could even call it night. They had talked about the procedure several times, but he started to appreciate the seriousness of what he was about to embark on when all the robots gathered around.
He looked from one to the other. Each one had become somebody he could identify with, each with their own personality. He had given them all names. He saw them for who they were. People. They’re here because they look at me the same, I’m one of them. We are the last community. Comrades in arms.
As he closed his eyes, he felt the all too familiar tubes being attached into his arms and torso. They had become second nature, a part of the routine. This time he seemed to be acutely aware of his surroundings, felt each tube as it slid deep inside. The darkness started to crowd in, accompanied by the familiar flashing scenes of Earth. Oliver went into an induced sleep, and would not wake again on the ship.
5. The Planet
Cold wind swept in from the mountains. Tahat pulled the leather jerkin in closer around his neck. He had to crane his head back to catch a glimpse of the towering peaks. The jagged spires were so far above the highest reaches of cloud, they seemed to pierce the heavens themselves. The clouds parted to expose two gnarled fingers of the black rock hooked over at an ungodly angle, thrust out in defiance of nature.
At that height the snow thinned out leaving only the black rock, the summit was at such an extreme altitude that no snow could ever form that high, they glistened black all year. The clouds closed and they disappeared once again.
Tahat’s wife, Zawej, being the superstitious lady that she was, had said today was going to be a bad day for hunting. She had seen an omen. She always sees an omen, he chuckled to himself, then if I don’t bring a catch home, she can say she told me so.
Tahat and his son were at the foothills, still some fifty miles from the base of the mountains, but even here as he looked up, they seemed to loom over top, slowly lurching towards him, giving a sense of vertigo. Surely they are the edge of the world, he thought, or maybe there is another side with somebody like me looking back right now.
Since he was a child, he had entertained the fantasy that the world continued after the mountains. But now as he stood beneath their shadow, he knew in his heart that it could not be true. God had placed this impassable wall here for a reason, it was simply the end of the world.
He leaned on his bow and turned back to watch his son following behind. The boy had stopped and was fixing the leather cap under his hairless chin. The hunter suddenly noticed how cold his own ears were, but he turned back and pressed on.
As the foothills neared the mountains, the land became fractured with canyons, leaving plateaus strutting up, becoming narrower and more isolated as they neared the mountain base until they were simple shafts of rock hundreds of meters high. The land had been torn away from the mountains by some ancient upheaval.
They had walked several hours before ascending the ridge so the wind would be in their faces when they emerged. At least the wind direction hasn't changed. He had to get this animal before the sun went behind the first moon, they would be cast into darkness for at least an hour potentially losing the trail. Already, he could see the shadow creeping down the mountain face as the second twilight gathered.
I must take the meat home. He crept forward not wanting to startle any birds along the escarpment. They had put fur on the outside of their boots so the footfalls would be virtually silent. He had seen the sign and been following it for an hour, both the footprints in the ground, and the last stool was steaming. The deer was not far off.
As he neared the ridge, he notched an arrow in his large hunting bow. The great bow was nearly as tall as the Tahat. Now he held the powerful weapon before himself ready to draw at a moment's notice.
The bush was not as dense along the ridge as he would have preferred, both a blessing and a curse, at least then they could move from cover to cover. Here near the snow line the trees were sparser, less cover for us but also for you too, my friend, he spoke affectionately to the animal he was going to kill.
On the mountains behind, the early snows were already well established, a reminder of the need to bring home the meat for winter. There wasn't much daylight left for the long trek back. He moved forward a little bit further.
Then up ahead he saw a flash of white. It was the rear of the animal he had been tracking. The deer had its head down, grazing on some of the stubborn flora that had come through the snow on the floor of the clearing. The stag was enormous, taller than the hunter at the shoulder, hints of violet light were shimmering on the splendid white coat. Hello beautiful. Don't mind me. His patience was about to be rewarded as the day’s work came to fruition.
Gently and quietly Tahat moved further forward, signaling to his son to stay low. He had to get as close as possible. The sound of the arrow in flight would reach the deer before the arrow itself. He had to be close enough so that the flinch or the movement would not prevent the clean hit.
Silently he moved up behind one of the great conifers, the only trees to grow at this altitude. At least they provided enough greenery to hide him from view. Gradually he put pressure on the bowstring, not fully drawn but ready for the single motion required.
The power of the hunting bow meant holding it fully drawn required enormous strength, and the technique was to draw and release in one fluid motion. A motion that was second nature to Tahat. His son watched silently. The bow had been faithful all this time. It had brought down many animals.
The deer lifted its head sensing danger, sniffing the air. Sniffing but not being able to detect him. He was downwind. The bow creaked gently as he drew it back to its full length in the well-practiced motion. The arrow placed just above the animal’s rear front quarter so that the pull of gravity would direct the arrow to the deer's chest. A clean hit would drop the animal, and it wouldn't run. If he hit it uncleanly, it would run and most certainly plunge into a canyon, and he would lose it.
He took a deep breath. This whole motion seemed to last minutes in the hunter’s meditative state when in reality it took several seconds. The deer raised its head then flinched. It jumped, startled, then disappeared instantly into the bush leaving the clearing empty as though it had never been there.
Damn, damn, damn, Tahat let out a sigh. He released the tension on the bow. He looked around to see what had startled the animal. Nothing. He hadn't done anything. His son was still silent below the ridge.
Then he heard it. A noise. A peculiar noise. Thunder rolling through the air, but in a continuation like nothing he had experienced. It became deafening, vibrating the very ground under his feet. He felt a superstitious dread as he covered his ears.
He ran forward into the clearing. The sun was now almost eclipsed underneath the lar
ge moon, and the red and purple rays of the second twilight spilled through the trees casting long shadows across the patchy snow clearing. The noise had come from above.
He looked into the sky. Instantly he saw, streaking across the faintly wispy clouded sky, an object of great speed burning like a ball of fire. It streaked leaving a smoking trail, and thundered like a great storm, before disappearing behind the foothills.
Tahat instantly thought of the omen his wife had foretold, "it's going to be a bad day for hunting." He hastily gathered the arrow that had fallen at his feet, put it in his quiver and shouldered his bow. The deer forgotten, the two men turned and fled. This was a bad day for hunting.
6. Crash landing
The roaring of the turbulent river drowned out the sounds of the birds chirping, insects, and grunting of the men as they dragged yet another person from the upended landing craft.
The nose was buried deep in the flowing river, and the side door was almost at the water level. Along the bank, debris and scarred earth laid the track where it had smashed along the ground sliding into the river. Already five inert bodies lay prone on the ground in the afternoon sun.
Verity couldn’t stop her hands from shaking. This kind of thing just didn’t happen. She pushed her brown wet, matted hair out of her face. This was already so far beyond her romantic idea of an adventure and was turning into a nightmare. Dammit, compose yourself Ver! she thought, just act like the others, they can’t suspect anything.
Captain Yarn glanced at her as he made another journey back, wading out to where the craft was. Verity was huddled beside the bodies on the bank. She was hugging her knees and rocking, despite the vow to herself to be strong. She could see that even Shira was visibly shaken. That was saying something! Had she ever seen the lieutenant look rattled? On the last planet, the lieutenant seemed impervious as if she was cut from the same material as the ship’s hull.
Yarn called for assistance from the ship, and the two crewmen hurried to make their way back in.
Water was getting closer to the door, and the ship was gradually sliding into the river as it was being upended. They pulled another body and dragged it out, another man in a simple white jumpsuit. They were all dressed the same way.
Yarn’s voice had the high pitched edge of desperation as he yelled at the other two. “Come on. I said we have to hurry. The ships going under!”
The ship’s going under? The voice screamed in Verity’s head. Her hands started shaking again.
On the side of the river, the number of the bodies started to increase. Soon there were twelve unconscious bodies.
The ship creaked, groaned rolled over slowly as the flow of the river began to draw it under. Then two men appeared at the hatchway dragging a thirteenth body with them. “Hurry, help.” One of them yelled. The two other men waded out as fast as the torrent would allow, taking hold of them and pulling them toward the bank bringing the thirteenth body with them.
To Verity’s dismay, the ship rolled over, dipped and spilled into the main flow of the river upside down. The hatch filled with water. It sunk slowly below the surface until it completely disappeared, and the only evidence the craft had ever been there was a swell in the flow. They stood there looking across the water. Everything they needed was in that vessel.
The men dragged the last person and laid him down in the sun with the others. Then they lay down themselves, panting and exhausted.
“What now?” Shira followed the captain’s gaze to where the craft was being claimed by the river. They surveyed the scene. “What the hell now?”
Yarn had sat down to catch his breath. He was red-faced from the ordeal despite the icy temperature of the river.
“You’re a stupid fool getting us into this mess,” Shira said. “We should have sent another crew down. But you insist on exploring these backward first-stage planets yourself! You’re so damn stubborn!”
Hooded eyes stared back at the lieutenant. “We will do what we need to do to survive.” Yarn’s tone was flat and resolute. “What's taken place here damn it?” He muttered under his breath.
The captain must secretly love this, Verity thought to herself, living for adventure. Otherwise, he wouldn't be in this line of work, if you could even call it that. He lived for the adventure, and Lieutenant Shira found it frustrating but at the same time, it was probably why she was attracted to him.
The sun emerged from behind a large half-moon which looked so close in the sky that it would fall down and crush them. It bathed wispy clouds in a blue-red hue, Yarn cast his gaze upwards, thin eyes contemplating.
“One of the robots has sabotaged the landing craft.” He sighed, then stood and turned to look at the thirteen unconscious men in jumpsuits lying wet on the bank. “Another craft should be sent to pick us up shortly, but until that time we need to make sure that these drivers are behaving,” he explained.
“Picked up?” the lieutenant asked, “there has been no response from the mothership. You have called over and over. What’s the explanation?”
This is truly a mystery. Verity thought to herself. Why has the mothership not called us? Why have we not got frequency communication? It just doesn't make any sense. Having a crash or a malfunction was not unheard of, unlikely, but not unheard of. To have no communication, this was just weird.
“Sergeant,” the captain barked.
Costa stepped forward. “Sir?” His bushy black eyebrows hung over his pale blue eyes, and his pupils had shrunk to small points in the afternoon light.
Verity had overheard that this was the sergeant’s fourth tour in this risky business. She had come to expect two expressions from this man in the face of crisis, boredom, and indifference. He didn't disappoint.
“What are your thoughts?” The captain asked Costa.
The sergeant’s eyes traced an imaginary line through the sky. “We are coming in, one of the serf’s malfunctions, causes us to crash, and no call from above.”
“Are you sure that we had communication?” Yarn asked.
“Absolutely certain, sir,” Costa replied, “there's no doubt in my mind that we were getting through. The signal was confirmed, it was just not responded to.”
“Maybe,” Riff, the engineer spoke up, “maybe there was a malfunction up there too.”
“Ha, don't be absurd!” the lieutenant scoffed.
“Maybe...this wasn't a one-off situation.”
Verity could see theories and conspiracies rolling around behind the Riff’s beady eyes. His wet, blond hair sat flat on his head accentuating his narrow face.
“Even if what you are saying is true,” said the captain, “the chances are so remote and we've got fail-safes, they could still contact us.”
“Maybe he has a point, sir.” The sergeant stepped forward. “What if this was more than one crazy robotic malfunction. What if it was planned?”
“Agh that's a great theory!” Yelled the lieutenant. The conversation until now had been in hushed tones, and Shira’s loud outburst made the Captain Yarn wince, and look over at the unconscious forms.
“Oh please, as if that could’ve happened,” she continued, “as if the serfs...we have so many fail-safes controlling them there's no way they could break out. How would they even get up to the front of the ship? How could they even do anything?”
She’s ranting Verity thought, I’m glad I’m not the only one who feels hysterical about this.
“No, I think the sergeant has a point,” Yarn said. “Listen, just relax a bit! The crash...I've never heard of anybody having a crash like this before. Our landing craft was sabotaged from within, that much is clear. The crash is unusual, but to not have any contact from above and no assistance sent down, that is just unexplainable. Unless there's trouble up there. Unless we are being sabotaged from within.” There was silence in the group.
“Those robots are smart.” Said Riff “Theoretically, they are capable of doing this stuff. But cap, as the engineer, I can tell you that Teras’ sun will burn out before
we get that craft out of the river and back into the sky!”
Verity felt the blood drain from her face. They would not be leaving in their landing vessel?
“I've never heard of the robots doing such a thing.” The lieutenant stormed over to Verity on the ground.
The captain shrugged his shoulders. “Riff is right! It's not going to happen,” he said shaking his head.
“Sir?” The sergeant waited.
“The ship. She's not coming out of the river. She's upside down and full of water. It’d be easier to fly through the Torus system than resurrect that ship.”
“Sir, what are you suggest…”
“I'm telling you that we are stuck down here, and unless we get any help, or another landing craft comes down, we aren't going anywhere!” The captain growled. “And, to the best of our knowledge, no help is coming.”
Verity had never seen Captain Yarn frustrated. Was this really happening? With all their technology, ability to traverse the galaxy, how is it possible they could be stranded on a planet? Well in this line of work, you were so far outside the law that there was no calling for outside help, that was for sure.
“But sir we have a problem.” The engineer wiped his wet blond matted hair to the side. “The drivers, they're going to wake up soon.” He walked over and gave one of the body's a kick. The form on the ground moaned. He was wearing the same one-piece white jumpsuit that was on all the sleeping bodies. The crew were all gazing down at the unconscious men.
“Yeah, that's a real problem,” the captain turned to the sergeant. “What happens when they don't have their regular daily intake of drug controls?”
“Well,” he pulled at the scar on his top lip, “they get angry, become unpredictable. They all think they are the greatest leader that ever ruled the planet. They all want to lead. They are good fighters. Usually, they will end up killing each other. They can never be the same again.” His blue eyes were inspecting the men. “I actually don't know why we got them out of the ship.”