Still Human- Planet G

by Jerry Underhill

  The mobile unit on the ground next to Cooper buzzed. He didn’t answer it.

  Another few birds surged through the night over their heads. Many of the Cavers had rushed into the forest. The few who remained, visible in their flashing bulbs, tore limbs from the beasts crumpled closest to them and followed into the trees. The birds overhead didn’t slow as they neared the edge of the tree line. In a flashing light Huston thought he saw one compress into a dart and maneuver through the trees before a hurricane of Caver shrieks erupted from within and the bird burst through the canopy a hundred feet in with the struggling body of a Caver hanging beneath it. Huston saw the Caver hit the ground in the light from it's head after the bird released it, only to smash into it on the ground, ripping it's talons through the Caver’s back.

  The herd had thundered off in the mayhem.

  Huston could only count two of their bodies remaining from what he’d initially counted to be nine kills. The pack of birds were picking at the Caver bodies beneath them. The largest had moved to stand over one of the beasts’ bodies. It spread its wings at others and they returned the gesture.

  Huston couldn’t speak. He grabbed Tarma by the shoulder and stumbled into the trees. Cooper was at their back, his assault rifle strafing the sky. The minister rushed to Kit’s side. She was sitting against a tree.

  “I’m fine. Huston, oh my God.”

  “I’m sorry. I thought I had to.” Huston looked her over. He didn’t dare turn on his flashlight.

  “My ankle hurts a little and my butt is bruised, but I’m fine.” She stood up and put her hands on his face. Patting his chest and sides softly. “You landed so hard!”

  “I think I messed my arm up.” He gasped. Some ribs may have been fractured.

  Huston hugged her, looking at the others over her head, and let her go.

  “We hike back at dawn.” Cooper said. “Through the woods this time.”

  Chapter Seventeen

  Day 26: morning

  The planet has man-killing raptors.

  They were stopped at a small pond. After hiding between some boulders for a while, laying to crawl into small wedge-like openings, they’d come out to pack their tent up at sunrise. The birds were gone. The bodies were gone. Even the beasts were gone. Small four legged mammals were jockeying for position with scavenger birds around pockets of remains crumpled in the grass.

  Cooper had called the colony back from his hiding spot. The security room had been trying to warn them of approaching shapes. After explaining what had happened, Scott had come on the line, heard the account himself, and told them to return immediately. Tarma sent his footage, dark as it was, and they’d hurried into the valley below. Thankfully, they’d found the pond and spent time eating and refreshing themselves. Warily looking to the sky anytime moving branches shifted shadows at their feet.

  Tarma had jumped in the water before they left, only to surface immediately, excitedly yelling about something he saw. Huston joined first, then Kit and Cooper. It was a canoe, sunken to the meager depths of the pond. Most of it was well-preserved in the calm, airless environment. But it wasn’t exactly a canoe. Getting a closer look, it may have been 3 canoes brought together under a roof. Like a three hulled pontoon boat without the deck. The left kayak had broken off somehow. It lie feet away, its end sinking beneath shifting mud since it’s arrival. The right canoe was still connected to the center by thin posts, with a cover made of crisscrossed branches. It wouldn’t have been enough to protect from weather. If it’d been for the birds, it’d worked in the most minimal sense.

  How had it gotten there? It must have been dropped. He wondered how many things remained for them to discover in the woods of the region.

  It was Kit who’d made the most unsettling discovery, coming up after the rest.

  “Bodies! 3! All women!”

  They’d debated for a while whether that was a fair assumption. The only indicators were long hair and breasts, though they were all deteriorated enough that nobody could be sure.

  It was all academic. She marked the location on her map. A team would come later. Perhaps she would come back later, or he would. For now, they moved on, bothered all the same.

  A matrix of trails interconnected parts of the forest. Interestingly, there were markings on trees that matched some from the Fisherman Village. Where the trails passed under open canopy, they pushed through the brush. As reasonably sure as they were that they’d see the winged monsters against the sparsely clouded sky, they were all nervous. When they talked, they talked of little else than the birds, the Cavers, the dead in the pond, the beasts, and what else the planet might reveal to them. The surfacing of small cracks in knowledge was enough to entirely destabilize confidence in even mild circumstances.

  They got closer to Port Wallace around dusk. The air above them grew abuzz with frequent drone flyovers.

  “It’s like being in a war zone.” Tarma muttered, spitting a small fly from his lips. The air around them was abuzz itself. “At least they aren’t biting.”

  He was drenched in sweat. They’d all but jogged the fifteen miles back.

  Huston rested his hands on his hips. He was exhausted. Only Cooper seemed to have arrived with the strength to fight.

  “Kit, what’s our highest altitude?” He asked her.

  “Scott doesn’t have all of them available to my grade, but beyond the satellites in orbit….we’ve got a couple at 50k.” She finished, looking up from her screen.

  “I wonder how high the bastards fly.” Coop looked to Huston. “Thanks for giving up on your Cloud search for the time being. We need to re-assess.”

  “I just thought the summit would have been romantic.” Huston said through pained breaths, now leaning on Tarma’s shoulder.

  “You can wine me.” Tarma assured, gesturing toward the walls of Port Wallace.

  They took the rest at a normal pace, passing turrets and finally security teams at strategic points on their approach.

  Scott met them at the gate.

  “Pirate.” He smiled, pulling Huston into a hug and greeting the others. He looked from Huston’s makeshift sling to Kit’s compression wrap on her right knee. “You guys ok?”

  “Yeah.” Huston looked to Kit. “We’re gonna skip the meeting though and head over to med.”

  “I’ll come find you when they want to ask you questions.” Scott replied.

  Huston raised his eyebrows.

  Scott smiled. Huston knew how much Scott would enjoy seeing him locked in an hours long meeting.

  “Alright. C’mon.”

  They followed him through the gate, watching as the metal bars clamored to the ground before a sheet of titanium draped over it's outer facade. The experience of being within the walls was startling in contrast. Scott had machine guns mounted on the corners, pitched toward the sky, with men assembling thick bars over walkways leading from each building to the next.

  “We are pushing our resource supply.” Scott said, acknowledging their sweeping eyes.

  They walked passed massive factories before reaching small box structures meant for housing non-perishable supplies. Scott let them through the outer ring of departmental offices to the inner courtyard. The command center and commons buildings sat in the middle of a square of apartment buildings.

  Should the colony fall under siege, each ring could be secured as an exterior wall. Scott had insisted on it.

  “The skeleton for the lattice should be up within the hour.” Scott pointed to the bars overhead. “From what you’ve described, and showed us, it probably wouldn’t stop a surgical dive, but it should be enough of a deterrent in the short term.”

  “Another thing we missed.” Cooper grumbled.

  Scott looked to Huston. Their responses went unspoken. They’d already talked about the pace of the operation and consequent gaps in their reconnaissance of the planet.

  “Where is everyone?” Huston asked.

  “I’ve scheduled an all-hands meeting in the dining hall in a
couple hours. I assume they’re finishing work or cleaning.”

  Huston smiled as he saw that some of the buildings had been drawn on with brightly colored paints. It was a nice relief from the uniform grey around it.

  A dozen or so colonists were playing soccer in a little field that’d been set aside. There were so many internationals on the crew that the game had been an obvious commonality and medium for friendships. He returned some waves.

  “Scott, off we go.” Huston said as they passed the medical facility.

  Scott and Cooper continued into the command center. Huston caught sight of the many screens affixed to the walls within the building before the doors closed again. They were showing real-time imagery from the drones and security cameras.

  Gangotra was there, huddled with representative heads from security, engineering, corporate, and physical sciences.

  “Let’s go see Knux.” Tarma said.

  The colony’s hospital followed the normal precedents. The walls were white with pastel colored decorations, plants were spread around the entrance room, and books lay docile on tables in front of a dozen chairs in the waiting room.

  They found Dr. Kazhid in his office. He’d been going over the complex array of data being fed by the nano tech within Knux’s body.

  Tarma was disappointed in peaking into Knux’s room and seeing his friend asleep.

  “Seeya, nerds.” He spat, leaving Kit and Huston standing with the doctor.

  He led them to an examination room. After physically checking on their overall state and accessing their nano data, he scanned their injuries. Huston was relieved to hear that Kit had only sprained her knee. Himself, he had bruised ribs and a fractured wrist. Kit left to clean up and join the colonists at dinner while he talked to Dr. Kazhid.

  He left an hour later after the doctor had completed the basic bone rejuvenation procedure and sent him off with an air-cast.

  Huston didn’t bother to clean up. The facilities would be busy now anyway. They’d constructed central showers and restrooms, designed to create a communal environment, something akin to college, while making it easier to provide and treat water.

  They’d centralized waste, too. So far, everyone was exceptionally careful with their trash, much like how they’d treat a new car. He didn’t imagine it’d last long.

  Heading directly to the cafeteria, he was met by colonists who asked him about the cast and his time with the Clouds.

  They didn’t seem to know anything about the birds, which he was happy to let continue. Scott would have a presentation of some kind when he felt he had answers for some of the obvious questions.

  They were also more worried about the Clouds than he’d feared. It was clear that speaking to him directly about his impressions of them was calming, but those with less developed friendships were naturally less trusting of his opinion.

  He didn’t blame them. Technological advantage only meant so much next to a potentially devastating disparity in numbers, positioning, physical abilities, and vulnerability to fear. They’d been carefully chosen though. They weren’t unfit for the moment.

  Many handshakes and waves later, he’d made his way to stand alongside Kit in line. The greenhouses were starting to produce a wealth of food products and the colony had transitioned to allowing the agricultural labs on the ship to focus on contingency reserves.

  There were meat options that had been pulled from storage as well as simple desserts.

  “Huston, for you.”

  Joyce, one of the senior members of the agro team, set a pizza onto his tray.

  “Heard you were back.” She said, squeezing his cheek and walking through a door leading to the machinery.

  It wasn’t precisely her duty, but she enjoyed watching the relationship between their harvests and the robotic process responsible for their meals. She was one of the oldest colonists and the selection that surprised him most.

  “Powerful man.” Kit smirked.

  “Yes.” Huston confirmed, pulling his pizza from her grubby reach. He’d probably share. Probably. But it would be his choice. If he let her have a slice in front of everyone, it’d be like feeding a bird at the beach.

  Birds.

  It was hard to feel the continuity between what happened out there and what happened within the walls.

  He realized that he didn’t want to be in the cafeteria. Piling a slice on top of her already full plate, he squeezed her hand and walked out. He could hear Calypso 5 tuning their instruments as the doors closed behind him. They’d formed the band at the training facility as they slowly learned of each others’ musical talent. It was a really cool touch. One of the organic growths that was probably better for not being planned.

  Flashes of light from drones in low flight were intermittently visible behind thinly packed clouds.

  Moving through the colony as quickly as possible, he deposited his tray, got to his room, piled some clean clothes into a bag, walked to the nearly empty commons building, showered in an open stall, and followed the walkway to his temple.

  It was designed to appear spiritual without any specific association. They’d used wood from some of the trees they’d cleared for the site. They’d landed so early in Scott’s rise to Chief that Wallace’s agreement to build a natural-looking temple had reigned. Huston wondered whether Scott would’ve allowed allow it if he had just a few more minutes of comfort with the mantle. For such a great friend, the man was annoying.

  He opened the door. The smell of wood, candles, and fireplace wrapped him in a bubble of warmth. He lit the candles set atop a table by the entrance with matches from it's drawer. He moved slowly, savoring the sounds. It was a place for that. Dim light flickered around the room as the tiny flames grew to size. A fundamental symbol or two from the world’s religions were carved into the beams.

  He set his left hand on the top of a wooden pew.

  He’d designed the temple himself. It was meant to feel like a cabin in the wilderness. A warm place for the human soul. Religious or not.

  It was better than he’d imagined.

  Moving to the fireplace at the front of the room, he slowly piled materials, allowing himself to embrace each sound of clanking wood and the pops of young heat as it crawled through kindling.

  He bowed his head, still with one knee on the ground. Bursts of loved faces and souls rang through him. Most often a mystic in considering transcendence, the spiritual core at all things, and the spiritual sea they together floated in, there were moments when the personal nature of God burned through the mind and intellect, and all he could feel was the bliss of connecting to something affectionate and nurturing. They were magic moments. Gifts, like the spirits of loved ones he felt now. Part of him processed that they could be conjurings of the brain, but why should that minimize the experience’s relationship with a loving God. Perhaps it was just one of the special evolutions of the human brain: being able to recognize the connection. Or maybe the mind, the heart, whatever a person wanted to call the side of themselves that perceived and felt beyond the mechanics of the brain itself was the evolution that tipped it all. It was certainly that which held faith when his brain groped blindly for something beyond its limitations.

  The love he felt around him brought tears. He crouched for several long moments.

  With a deep, satisfied breath, he stood and walked to sit on the front pew.

  Of all the religions, those moments carried him furthest toward Christianity, though not in the form constructed and popularized by ancient societies. It was a love for the special teachings and nature of a being who’d delivered a character of faith to a clawing world of intelligence that felt weighed-down, scared, and desperately thankful for the teachings. Above them all, that God loved.

  Of all of God’s voices, Jesus’ was tenderest. It was part of a fabric of voices that together spoke with a resounding power. It was a power that the spiritual-minded felt in their bones. Huston felt blessed to have that voice filtered through so many constituent human t
eachers. He’d never been able to choose. And that was ok. That allowed him to help here as he journeyed with others to their respective places of peace.

  Peace always spoke so softly beneath the waves of anger, sadness, and fear. Helping people find it and build it to a fiery scream for themselves had become the most important thing in his life.

  The doors opened and closed behind him. He heard the lock. He wasn’t able to see who it was at first, but recognized her at once as she stepped forward.

  “Found you.” She looked nervous.

  “Did something happen?” Huston asked quickly.

  “No no.” Kit sat down next to him, gazing into the flames.

  “Hi.” He said, looking into her eyes as she turned to face him.

  “What are you doing in here? I thought you were gonna have dinner with everyone”

  “I don’t know. I wanted to be here. I’m sorry.”

  She put her hand on his cheek. “Do what you want.”

  She liked him for all of his weird. It had been a special layer of affection: to be understood and encouraged.

  He put his hand over hers, closing his eyes. Satisfied.

  Their physical relationship had been so innocent. It was one of those relationships that always felt like everything even without it. She was sweet. It was sweet. He knew he loved her. Neither remembered when they’d started falling asleep together.

  He opened his eyes. Hers were burning inches away. He remembered the locked door. He felt himself trembling.

  And all at once they melted into each other. Barriers and reservations dissolving with impassioned haste.

  Huston opened his eyes. Kit was laying nearly on top of him. They’d fallen asleep in the cramped space of the pew. The room was black. Content to hug her tighter and lay there forever, shapes gradually revealed themselves as his eyes adjusted.

  His whole body tingled against her warm, soft body.

  As blissful as he felt, memories of nightmares poked into the moment. They were characteristically puzzling, slipping through his mental grip, but he grasped that they centered around the Cavers.