Throwback

by Edward J. McFadden III

  “Even with all the danger you lived through?” Svet said.

  “Especially because of that. I’d cheated death so many times I started to take it for granted. I thought Andrea would always be there, and that I’d retire young and we’d spend the rest of our lives living and helping our children raise their own families. It was the life I chose, and the life Andrea agreed to. I guess we were too afraid to change.”

  “Regrets?” Max said.

  “I have a few.”

  They chuckled, an odd sound beneath the screeching and hollering of the jungle outside.

  “As the kids got older they had their own lives, and when they were young they’d drive me batshit because I wasn’t used to being around them.”

  “Batshit?”

  “Sorry, Svet. Crazy. Loony.” Hawk searched for the Russian word. “Psikh.”

  “Daaaa. At least you both got to have kids. Vladimir and I planned to, but it was always after the next mission, the next war, the next opportunity we couldn’t pass up.” Svet hissed in the darkness. “Like a tour on the International Space Station. Not that we have much say.”

  With all the hoopla about how democratic Russia had become, when it came to serving the motherland your freedom was limited. This had always been evident on the station. While there was respect, there was an underlying wariness that separated Svet from her two crewmates. Despite history, the German and the American didn’t share this distrust. This rare display of honesty by Svet swelled Hawk’s worry wart.

  Max took a long pull of vodka and gave Hawk the bottle.

  “I’m gonna cap this,” Hawk said.

  A chorus of nein and nyet from Max and Svet.

  “Listen.” If a voice could stagger, Hawk’s had. “I’ve seen Gilligan’s Island, OK? I don’t see myself building a still out of wood and using fruit to make booze anytime soon. And we might need for medicine… medical stuff.”

  “Were you always the buzzkill, or was it something you learned in officer training?” Max said.

  Svet laughed, then burped. “We, how you say? Shit out luck?”

  They all laughed, then fell silent.

  “So, what do you guys think the light is?” Hawk said. The silence stretched out, the blackness got thicker, and the sound of animal chaos made Hawk’s ears ring. “It was bright, so I’m having a hard time convincing myself it’s natural.”

  “A mineral deposit of some kind?” Svet said. She yawned loudly.

  “What mineral can retain and emanate light? Under the sun’s rays maybe, but at night?”

  The German physicist said, “All minerals reflect light. That’s what makes them visible to the human eye. Some have an interesting physical property known as fluorescence. These minerals absorb a small amount of light and an instant later release this light on a different wavelength. This change in wavelength causes a temporary color change in the eye of the observer. The effect is most spectacular when minerals are illuminated in darkness by ultraviolet light, which we can’t see, and they release visible light.”

  “So, Svet’s right? It could be a pile of rocks?”

  “I don’t see how. The effects of fluorescence are short, and what we saw was a pulsating, strong beam of light.”

  “Could some light source from within the Earth be shining through minerals on the surface? Like a lava flow beneath an exposed vein of quartz?” Hawk asked.

  “Possible. Hadn’t thought of that,” Max said. “But why would it pulse?” Max answered his own question, “There could be a random intermittent obstruction of some kind. I just don’t know.”

  Hawk and Svet said nothing.

  Hawk was sorry he’d thought of that. What little hope they had, and he wasn’t fooling himself, they had very little, was in the light being a beacon. Something linked to intelligent life. Life that might be able to help them. If the light was nothing more than a natural phenomenon, there was no hope at all.

  Svet’s snore tore through the shelter.

  “She’s got the right idea,” Max said. “What’s the plan for tomorrow?”

  “I’m gonna climb a tree.”

  “Logical,” Max said. His Spock voice wasn’t bad.

  6

  Morning in the jungle was a gray haze of twilight, dappled sunrays, and ethereal shadows. The creatures of the night slithered and crawled into their lairs, and the beasts of the sun rose to greet another day of survival. The sky was a distant memory, hidden by a thick ceiling of green life that sucked up every sunbeam. Vines and creepers fought with trees for supremacy, while giant ferns, mosses, and broad-leafed weeds shared the ground, which was perpetually drenched in a netherworld of dusk.

  A hundred feet from their shelter, beneath the roots of a fallen tree, Hawk found the remains of the beast that was torn apart the prior night. Piles of knifelike shards of bone lay atop black stains on the jungle floor, and splatters of dark blood speckled the foliage including two large bent trees. The scent of rotting meat and earth stuck in Hawk’s nose, and the maggots and insects that swarmed the picked-clean bones made his stomach gurgle. It was impossible to tell what type of creature it had been.

  Hawk spent time fortifying the shelter, stacking more branches against the open end of their hole, and constructing a six-foot fence made of pointed sticks to keep out the smaller riffraff. Most critters stayed clear of them, but Svet found two spots where something had tried to dig into the shelter.

  The cosmonaut worked on the interior of their accommodations, feathering the floor and walls with leaves and palm fronds. She tied the roots hanging from the ceiling into braids and twisted them into loops, from which they hung articles of clothing. She made a shelf for the food, flashlight, ammo, and their personals, and even dug a fire pit and created a chimney through the dirt ceiling in hopes of kindling a fire.

  While they worked, Max rested with his leg elevated, his ankle suspended via a dried vine looped through a root-ring hanging from the ceiling. Hawk packed one of the bags with two food rations, their last bottle of water, and extra bullets. He strapped on the Viking and Svet grabbed her knife and shouldered an Ash 12.

  “We need some light for tonight. The flashlight isn’t going to last long,” Max said.

  “Da.”

  “Can we make candles?” Hawk said.

  “Ja,” Max said. “But we’ll need a fire to do it. We need to get some animal fat and render it down. Find wick material.”

  “Da. Fire,” Svet said.

  “As I said last night, I don’t think we should risk it until we better understand our surroundings,” Hawk said. “The scent will carry for miles. The idea of sending the sweet aroma of cooking meat across the jungle doesn’t fill me with comfort.”

  “Understood,” Max said. “But we’ve only got enough food for a few weeks, and that’s stretching it. We should try hunting, start experimenting with the plants, and save our rations for when we’re in a real pinch.”

  “Da. Use dry wood. Keep smoke down,” Svet said.

  “We’re almost out of water, Hawk. When we do find a source we’ll need to boil it or take a big risk. I’d prefer to see animals drinking from the source, but that might not be possible. What we suck off leaves should be OK. It’s probably all OK.”

  Svet and Hawk said nothing.

  “Sorry. My scientist brain thinking out loud.”

  “No, please overthink. Overthink like a mother-fucker. You saw those piles of bones. That was a little one. If a big boy gets hold of us it’s over,” Hawk said.

  His comrades said nothing.

  “What about a test. Light a fire away from here. Watch from the shadows and see what happens,” Hawk said.

  “Da.”

  “Ja.”

  “Ria.”

  No laughs. Nothing.

  “Get it? Diarrhea?”

  “Shit?” Max said.

  “Forget it.” Hawk was determined to keep things light. He didn’t want Michel’s death and the loss of their families to be a constant weight.

&n
bsp; “We need to conserve ammo so we need to make weapons,” Max said.

  “We can use shards of bone for arrowheads, spear points and knives. I can also make staves, a bolas, and maybe an incendiary device or two,” Hawk said.

  Svet chuckled. “You funny guy.”

  “I wasn’t joking.”

  “Kakiye?”

  “Hawk’s right. We could make gunpowder,” Max said. “In Arena, Kirk made gun powder from charcoal, sulfur, and potassium nitrate. All things found in nature.”

  “OK, MacGyver. Where the shit are we going to get sulfur and potassium nitrate?”

  Svet said, “If you let me make fire I provide charcoal.”

  “Later. First we run our fire test and get a look from above,” Hawk said.

  Max’s leg was getting better, but there was no reason he should stress his knee so Hawk and Svet trekked into the jungle without him. It was slow going. The underbrush was thick, and they were forced to change direction several times because massive conifer trees with widely spaced limbs and thick trunks blocked their way. Svet marked trees, but soon Hawk was having trouble maintaining a consistent direction.

  They hadn’t gone far when they came upon an open black patch. At the clearing’s center a black pencil of a tree protruded from a blanket of green. Hawk figured a lightning bolt had hit the tree and torched the jungle, though much of the area had already been overtaken with creepers and underbrush.

  Seeing the burnt tree brought hope. Fire wasn’t anything new in these parts and perhaps the animals were used to the smell, they might even understand the danger and stay away. Fire might work better than any wall or hideout.

  “Let’s see if we can get that tree burning again. This is the perfect spot,” Hawk said.

  “Da. Want me to light it?”

  “Naw, I got it.” Hawk strode across the clearing until he stood before the blackened tree. It was nothing more than charcoal, and all it took was a few sparks from Svet’s knife being tapped on a smooth stone to set it aflame. The fried tree caught, and black smoke as thick as night rolled over the clearing, lifting into the sky and covering the jungle in haze. There wasn’t much left of the tree to burn, and tiny blue and yellow flames fought to stay alive.

  With a pop and crack the tree came down with a crash, falling on the carpet of green. The fresh, moist vegetation smothered the flames, and the smoke got thicker and blacker. Hawk and Svet retreated to the tree break, waiting to see what their commotion would bring. Smoke billowed over the forest, sending nonsensical smoke signals through the gaps in the trees, reaching for the blue sky.

  The smoke thinned and the smoldering flames winked out. Nothing came to investigate. The entire event had gone unnoticed. When he thought enough time had passed, Hawk said, “I guess that was much to do about nothing.”

  “Da. You surprised? With all volcanic activity the wildlife be used to fire.”

  “Still, I think we need to be cautious. The small fire pit you built in the shelter should be perfect. When we get back we’ll gather some dry wood.”

  Svet lifted her Ash 12. “Hunt?”

  “Not yet. And remember, we don’t want to waste ammo, but for this first time I suppose we can waste a bullet or two until we get some primitive weapons constructed.”

  Svet smiled and nodded.

  Test successfully completed, the pair plunged back into the thick jungle. Now their mission was to find a tall, climbable tree, preferably at the edge of the forest, yet said demarcation line appeared nowhere in sight. They hiked until Hawk estimated they’d traveled four miles, then stopped to rest and split a ration of dried beef stew.

  Svet and Hawk passed the reflective pouch back and forth, taking small bites, savoring the dried beef and brown gravy. Hawk understood how they dried stew, and ice cream of all things, but he didn’t know how NASA did it so well.

  The section of jungle where they rested was comprised of tall, thick conifers with limbs widely spaced apart like the trees had grown very fast. Hawk thought he could climb any of them, but determining which one was tallest was impossible because the trees melted into a single canopy as they rose into the sky.

  “Much further?” Svet said.

  “Nope. I think I’m gonna climb this one right here.” Hawk slapped the brown trunk of the tree he leaned against. Birds and insects chortled and squealed, and every few minutes a great roar or howl would rise above the tumult, but none of them sounded close.

  Hawk got up and dusted himself off. “OK, see you in a few minutes.”

  “Da.”

  Hawk pulled the length of cord from his bag and put the loop on his shoulder. He jumped, grabbed the lowest branch and hoisted himself up. The branch was thick and had no problem supporting him, and he used it to ascend to the next branch. Limb by limb he climbed, and as he went things got tight, the tree’s branches expanding into nearby trees. Insects dive bombed his face, and ants marched along the trunk.

  When he was halfway up he realized the next tree over was taller, so he eased out on a branch and transferred himself to the larger tree and continued his ascent. Blue sky peeked through the canopy, and bright rays of sunlight worked their way through the dense leaves.

  Hawk looked down, but he couldn’t see Svet. He was two hundred feet up, and a nervous chill ran through him. He tossed an end of rope over the branch above him and tied the other end around his waist. This safety line would at least slow him down should he fall.

  The branches got thinner as Hawk approached the top, and the tree swayed gently in the wind, easing back and forth with the additional weight like a clock pendulum. Breaks of blue cloud-filled sky were visible overhead, and Hawk flinched when a huge dragon-like pterosaur sailed feet above the tree canopy, blotting out the sun and drenching him in shadow.

  When he could go no further, Hawk tied off his safety line and settled against the tree trunk. Many branches still obstructed his view, but he could see well enough.

  The sun approached noon, and to the west the jungle thinned and opened into a massive savannah speckled with trees, bushes, and tall grass. To the south a blue lake shimmered in the sun, and beyond the savannah mountains and an erupting volcano cut across the horizon like a brown skid mark. Colored specks moved about on the plain, and flocks of birds and pterosaurs filled the sky. Two rivers ran from the mountains into the lake. To the east, jungle stretched as far as the eye could see.

  They’d missed their mark and landed on the wrong side of the mountains. The beacon light was on the opposite side to the west. Hawk sighed. The mountains were a long way off. He judged at least two hundred miles. To get there they’d have a treacherous hike through the jungle, and then a trek across what appeared to be the local dinosaurs’ main habitat.

  He took a mental snapshot in his mind, and was relieved to see how close it was to their rough map. When he transcribed it into the book he’d space things correctly.

  Thanks to gravity going down was easier than the climb up. Hawk climbed limb-to-limb, no longer using the safety rope, confident in his abilities as he worked his way back to the ground. When he dropped next to Svet, the Russian cosmonaut handed him the last of their water.

  “Thanks.”

  Svet pulled the slide on the Ash 12, and said, “Ready?”

  “Da,” Hawk said. They’d seen small furry marsupials and lizards, but they didn’t appear to have much meat on them, so they’d have to take a few and the Ash would blow most of the tiny things apart. “No gun. Time to make some spears.”

  Svet frowned.

  7

  Five days later Max’s knee was doing better and it was time to make a difficult decision. Should they split up, with Hawk and Svet going on recon and exploration missions, while Max stayed close to basecamp, not stressing his knee and gathering firewood, working on long term food supply challenges, and expanding the shelter and its defenses? Or, should they pull up stakes and start their trek to the mountains before Max was at full strength?

  “The question is, would you b
e able to go far, in this jungle with all the obstructions and climbing we’ll need to do?” Hawk said.

  Max rubbed his chin, and stoked the small fire in the corner of the shelter. Three squirrel–like animals were skinned and roasting over the flames on the end of sticks. The aroma, while not exactly the sweet smell of steaks on a barbeque, was close enough to get Hawk’s mouth watering. Space rations were food and did the job, but in much the same way a cake without icing was still a cake.

  Max said, “I think if I push it now I might have a setback. So, no, I think I need another week or two. What’s the rush, anyway?”

  Hawk nodded.

  “So? We stay?” Svet said.

  “For now. I’m going to try and find a path to that lake in the meantime,” Hawk said.

  “That certainly won’t be a path less traveled. More like the autobahn,” Max said.

  With that settled Hawk took their dinner off the fire and pulled the charred creatures off their roasting sticks. They were cooked well to ensure any dangerous microbes or diseases would be thoroughly destroyed. Svet had collected some leaves, and Max made a passable dressing from the guts of a blue fruit similar to grapefruit.

  Water was a problem, which was another reason they needed to search the area. It hadn’t rained since they’d first arrived, and there were no puddles or large leaves filled with water. The supply they brought from the station was gone, and the coconut-like fruit of the palms only supplied minimal water, less than its modern relative.

  Gray smoke filtered through the roof vent, nothing more than a narrow hole in the dirt ceiling that Svet had lined with small stones. They’d managed not to attract attention from the locals, but Max said it was only a matter of time before a huge ankylosaurus or dravidosaurus found their hiding place, whatever the shit they were.

  Hawk dozed off and had dreams of home; his wife, kids, all sitting around the base of the Christmas tree, smiling and laughing, opening gifts. He wasn’t there, but his family didn’t appear to notice. Depression had kicked in the last two days and the monotony of their plight settled in like a relative who just wouldn’t leave. He hid his despair from his mates—he was still the leader, and it was important to appear in control and strong, even when he felt anything but. Michel’s dead face tormented his dreams, a constant reminder that Svet or Max could stray down the same path. He kept his white pill in a pocket, encased in its plastic vile. He fingered it several times a day, the idea of ending it all and resting growing in him like a cancer.