The Battle for Eden

by Mark E Burgess

  Nothing appeared to be following them, however, and with great relief they spotted the slope where they would leave the hollow for the deeper woods.

  Keith turned the floater up the hill, and for a few minutes they wound their way through the forest as they gained elevation. Simon had just begun to breathe easier when a bolt of plasma ripped into a tree trunk in front of them. They veered sharply as shreds of bark rained across the window. Simon yelled, “Where the hell did that come from?”

  “Get up the hill fast!” Tyrus directed. He didn’t have to ask twice. Keith hit the accelerator, and they were thrown back into their seats as the floater leapt forward. More glowing bolts ripped the landscape around them, and they appeared to be coming from above.

  “They’re flying over the forest canopy!” Simon said, and Tyrus nodded.

  “How are they firing if they can’t see us?” Katherine asked, holding on to Simon as they rounded a boulder. A plasma impact chipped fragments off the rock, narrowly missing them.

  “Their sensors are probably tracking the floater’s energy emissions,” Tyrus said. “We need to find a sheltered spot and kill the power.”

  “You mean stop and sit?” Keith asked incredulously, glancing over at his father.

  “Yes, that’s our best option,” Simon said. “We need to do it soon, somewhere that’s shielded from direct hits, like maybe against a large rock or tree.”

  “If you say so,” Keith replied, wrenching the controls as he maneuvered the craft around the base of an Ironwood. He gunned the engine again and the floater shot toward the hilltop. They crested it a few moments later, going so fast that they shot out into space as the ground abruptly dropped away on the other side. “Hold on!” he told them as the nose of the floater came down. “This may be a rough landing.”

  The vehicle was not designed to maintain elevation of more than a few meters above ground, and their momentum had carried them considerably higher. The repulser fields had nothing to push against as they dived back to earth, free falling over the crest of the ridge as plasma bolts sizzled the air above them. The ground rushed to meet them, and as they were about to impact, the floater’s energy field engaged once more. The repulsers whined as they strained to keep them from bottoming out, but the speed of their descent was too great. Overloaded, the generator blew, and the floater plowed hard into the dirt, sliding down the slope for a hundred meters before coming to rest against a downed tree.

  Everyone sat in their seats, stunned, for several seconds after the vehicle stopped moving. Tyrus’s voice spoke first, “And that’s why we wear harnesses. Is everyone all right?”

  No one was seriously hurt. Simon looked out through the windows, and saw plasma bolts ripping up the ground a good distance up slope behind them. Tyrus said, “Ay, they’re shooting at the last place we had energy emissions. After we hit, the floater went dead. We slid most of the way without power.”

  “So we’re safe, for now,” Simon said. “We’ll have to walk it from here, though.”

  “We’re not all that far from the cabin, just five or six klicks,” Keith said. “We can easily make it before dark.”

  “Let’s get moving,” Tyrus answered. “I do not want to be wandering in the woods at night.”

  They grabbed their weapons, and the few supplies they had brought in the floater, and carefully eased the doors open. The barrage behind them had tapered off, and an uneasy quiet reigned. Hefting their baggage, the four moved away from the wrecked vehicle and slowly began the trek down the slope.

  Over three hours later they finally limped into camp, tired and sore. Although the distance hadn’t been great, they had had to toil through rough terrain, heavy undergrowth, and a steady uphill climb on the final leg. Add in the stress of being on constant alert for a surprise attack, and they were exhausted.

  The rest of the family were anxiously awaiting them, and everyone had to hear about their flight from the Knackers, the loss of the floater, and most of all the final fate of their home. Jessie could hardly be pried from her mother’s side, as she had obviously feared the worst when they had failed to arrive on time.

  Eventually Amanda intervened, saying, “All right, everyone, they’ve been through a lot today; we all have. Let’s let them get cleaned up and rest a bit, then we’ll get dinner started.” She beckoned to Simon and Katherine, saying, “I’ve heated some water for bathing; it’s in a big pot on the counter. You can take it into the right-hand tent and wash up; conserve as much water as you can.” They thanked her and went off to lose the trail dirt.

  That evening the family had their first supper in their new abode, eating around a pair of tables in the middle of the cabin. Tyrus had rigged lights powered by a fuel cell that would last for years. Later, as twilight gave way to the starless black of night in the forest, they gathered around the firepit to warm their bones and share companionship. A roaring fire was a calculated risk, but one they felt worthwhile, both for its warmth and protection, as well as for the peace of mind it brought. There was something primal about flame, at once energizing and relaxing to the spirit. Simon could feel the remnants of the day’s tension ebbing as he sat on a folding chair next to Katherine, watching the red and yellow tendrils flicker and dance.

  When it came time to sleep, the three shelters were divided up by mutual agreement, with the two couples each having a tent, and the other five young people sharing the cabin. Simon was worried that Sarah and the brothers would resent being crammed under one roof, but they seemed relieved to have the more protective walls of the cabin around them.

  He and Katherine bid the others good night and retired to their tent. They fell asleep in each other’s arms, wrapped in a warm bedroll, to the background sounds of small creatures chirping and the faint crackle of the fire outside.

  * * * *

  Tyrus called a meeting in the cabin the following afternoon, to discuss recent events and the Knackers’ likely response. They sat around the two tables and looked at a large topographic chart of the homestead property and surrounding region. “I’m worried,” Tyrus said, hands clasped in front of him. “The Crabs know the region we’ve headed into.” He tapped the area in question on the map. “They followed us further than I had hoped for, and they know the spot where our shuttle died. If I were them, I’d send soldiers to investigate that locale on foot or in small floaters.”

  “Then they’ll find our vehicle,” Simon concluded.

  “Yes. From that, they’ll be able to surmise that we’ve not gone very far. Our path on foot may also be traced, either via physical signs or chemical signatures we left behind.”

  “So we have to expect that they may find us here,” Keith said.

  “How long until they come, do you think?” Amanda asked, a frown creasing her brow as she scanned the map.

  Tyrus shrugged. “It’s hard to say. They could be here soon, if they’ve got the resources and motivation to seek us out. Or it could be delayed for weeks, as the attacks at the house were.”

  “Any information on the airwaves?” Simon asked him.

  “Nothing specific. There’s still a surprising amount of human transmissions coming through; I’d have thought those would have been silenced by now. But nothing I’ve heard, either human or Knacker, relates directly to us.”

  “So we’ll have to wait it out,” Katherine said, snatching a stray bug that had crawled across the table. She opened the pouch at her neck and dropped the treat to her Darter who grabbed it hungrily.

  “I’m afraid there’s not much else we can do,” Tyrus replied. “It would be best to devise a defensive plan now, figuring out where each of us should be if an attack comes, how to get into position quickly if awakened during the night, and so forth.

  “We should also scout a possible escape route to use if things turn ugly. Sarah, why don’t you and Samuel check out the land behind the cabin, see what’s over the bluff and how easy it will be to retreat under fire. Later today we’ll go through some field drills.”

>   With Simon and Tyrus overseeing the exercises, the family learned the features of the terrain around the cabin over the next two days. They plotted out ideal firing positions, fields of coverage for each defender’s weapon, and the most likely avenues to be used by an attacking force. Tyrus and Keith set up additional land mines along the primary approaches, and triggered them to be activated by a single remote signal. Sarah found a negotiable path over the bluff behind the cabin, but as she put it, “It’s rough going, and I’d not want to have to climb up there while under fire.”

  Tyrus glanced at Simon when she gave them the news. His expression was neutral, but they could tell he didn’t like what he heard. “Well,” he answered after a moment’s reflection, “We’d better make sure we hold them off. I’m not keen on leaving anyway. If we’re pushed out of here, we’ll truly be fugitives on the run with no resources and no refuge.”

  “Do you think we can keep them at bay?” Simon asked, eyes narrowed.

  “I believe so,” Tyrus nodded. “The Crabs don’t like the woods, and the density of vegetation in here will prevent them from bringing heavy equipment to bear. We know the terrain, and we’ve had a chance to dig in. I’ve modified enough alien plasma guns for each family member to have one. We’ve also got several of the Knacker grenade launchers. All the advantages fall to us. I’m not even sure the Crabs will make more than a token effort to find us, now that we’ve gone underground.”

  On that last account he was dead wrong. Two days later, just as noon approached, the perimeter alarms abruptly went off on their wrist units. Tyrus leapt up from the table in the cabin, where he had been going over supply lists with Amanda. “Everyone to their stations!” he yelled as he ran for the door, grabbing his weapons and gas mask as he went.

  Once outside, he whistled and shouted, “Take defensive positions, people! Weapons at the ready! Don your masks now, and be sure they’re tight! Get tucked into your spots, we don’t want anyone hit by sniper fire! Boys, grab your grenade launchers. The rest of you, be sure you’ve got your hand grenade belts.”

  Tyrus hustled to the near tent and retrieved his remote control unit. As he exited through the door flap, he bent low and scurried across the encampment to his designated defensive position. Upon reaching cover he held his wrist com to his mouth and said quietly, “Is everyone accounted for?”

  One by one they reported in. Simon was across the way behind a large boulder. The three brothers each had a tree trunk they stood behind, guns in hand. They also had alien grenade launchers leaning against their trees. Katherine and Jessie had taken up positions in the cabin windows, with weapons propped in the openings. Amanda and Sarah were off to his right behind a large fallen log.

  When all the family had sounded off, he nodded, satisfied that no one was caught out in the forest. Glancing at the control box in his hand, he punched the switch that activated the defensive mine grid.

  As he did so, a detonation rocked the woods a short distance down the slope, followed by the shrill screech of an alien vocalization. Tyrus grinned; one mine had found its mark. As the echoes died away, the forest went deathly still, all the normal animal sounds absent. Peeking around the trunk of the Ironwood that was his shelter, he scanned the area beyond the camp intently, searching for the enemy. Nothing moved among the trees; even the air was motionless. Minute after minute ticked by, time stretching interminably as the defenders waited in taut anticipation.

  Abruptly the crack of a second explosion, and then a third, reverberated through the stillness, one coming from a point straight ahead of him, the other off to the left. Tyrus welcomed each report as the likely death of a Knacker, but he worried about what size force might be advancing up the hill toward them. He suspected they would find out all too soon.

  Staying tight against the smooth bark of his tree, he glanced over at Simon. The other man crouched behind his boulder, cradling his heavy automatic rifle. Catching Tyrus’s look, Simon nodded back, his masked face inscrutable. Tyrus flashed him a thumbs-up sign. It was time to get down and dirty.

  As Tyrus turned back to view the woods in front of him, a flicker of motion jerked his gaze to the right. For an instant he could see nothing in the jumble of vegetation, then his brain sorted the chaos and he spotted a long jointed leg protruding from behind a thick shrub. He reacted without thinking, yanking the muzzle of his gun around, and clawing at the trigger as it came to bear on the target. A plasma bolt erupted from his weapon and blew a smoking hold through the shrub. The branches shook violently and a Crab burst out of the greenery, sporting severed stumps where three of its right-sided legs should have been. An intact limb raised a weapon and fired in a blur of speed, and Tyrus barely had time to squeeze off a round before he had to duck behind his tree.

  When he did so, Sarah and Amanda opened up with their weapons, plasma bolts flashing in tandem as they lit up the alien. Tyrus chanced a look and saw the Crab jerk and spin as the lances of energy impaled it, and the alien went down in a smoking heap within seconds.

  As the body hit the ground, the forest erupted with a fusillade of plasma fire that seemingly came from everywhere. Blue-white energy hits ripped the cabin, blowing deep chunks out of the walls. The beams came fast and hot, impacting tree trunks, rocks, and vegetation with equal abandon. There was nothing the humans could do except hunker down and hope that they stayed alive. The two tents went down instantly, collapsing in burning heaps as the alien weapons riddled them. Smoke filled the air as vegetation ignited and small fires flared all around the camp.

  Stray plasma charges shattered the cabin windows and glanced off the frames of the open portals wherein Jessie and Katherine resided. Simon hissed into his wrist com, “Stay down, everyone! Kate and Jess, do not try to rise up and use your weapons! We’ve got to reduce the weight of fire we’re receiving. Those of you with grenade launchers, use them! Stay in cover while firing!”

  So saying, Simon pulled an incendiary hand grenade from his belt, and squeezed both sides simultaneously, arming it. Working from memory, he reached around the trunk of the tree and threw the weapon as far as he could muscle it, toward what he hoped was a gap in the forest ahead of him. His aim was true, and the grenade flew in an arc down the slope into a thicket of trees. It detonated on impact, its explosive core igniting dozens of pellets which flew outward at hundreds of meters per second. The compound used in the flammable projectiles burned at a temperature of nearly 31000 C. Whatever it touched caught fire.

  By dint of sheer luck, the grenade Simon had thrown hit quite a lot. Three Knackers were hiding in the brush adjacent to the impact point, and the vegetation—and the aliens within—were instantly engulfed in flames. The plasma guns that the aliens had been using to lay down suppressing fire now discharged spasmodically into the surrounding forest. The random bolts in turn ignited other bushes and struck several of their comrades, maiming two and killing another outright.

  Other fireballs erupted as the brothers let loose with their launchers, and grenades cascaded down on the attackers. Here and there they hit live targets, and burning Crab bodies careened through the woods spreading flame through the dry late summer foliage.

  The resulting gaps in the attacking force lowered the incoming fire to the left side of the encampment. As the pressure eased, Simon barked into his wrist unit, “Samuel, Keith and T. J., fire your energy weapons at will! Protect yourselves at all costs!”

  The young men to his left immediately dropped the grenade launchers and whipped around their protective tree trunks, opening up with their plasma rifles. Simon added his heavy automatic to their fire, the gun growling out a staccato counterpoint to the snap and sizzle of the energy weapons. Tyrus and the women joined in from his right. Together they laid down a deadly barrage along the primary approach routes to the camp.

  Simon cursed as he swept his gun across the woods and back again. The forest was alive with scuttling shapes, too many for him to count. They came up the slope and into view beyond the edge of the camp, and as fas
t as he could mow them down, more arrived to take their place. He saw Crabs scurrying up the far side of the larger trees, their clawed limbs the only parts visible as they wrapped around the trunks. When they had achieved a height advantage, the aliens peeked around and began firing down upon the defenders. The incoming fire was mounting once again, forcing the humans to take cover. Just as Simon thought it couldn’t get any worse, it did.

  A droning sound overhead penetrated his awareness over the noise of the combat. Glancing up into the forest canopy he saw nothing. He was about to look away when suddenly a brilliant flash seared his retinas. A plasma beam hundreds of times more powerful than a rifle bolt ripped down from the sky, hitting the far corner of the cabin. Heavy logs flew apart like twigs, and the roof caved in along that entire side.

  “Katherine!” Simon screamed, his heart in his throat when he saw the structure collapsing. He cringed as more strikes rained down from above. Explosions rocked the camp and dust choked his lungs as the ground was pockmarked with impact craters. He could barely see through the smoke and debris.

  “We’re all right,” came the faint reply over his com link. “Jessie and I are all right.”

  With a snarl Simon rose up from behind his boulder and unleashed a volley of armor piercing rounds at a Knacker high on a tree. Bark chips flew as the bullets walked across the trunk. He adjusted his aim and the Crab spasmed, the rounds blowing a hole into its body and out the other side. Yellow and red fluid cascaded outward like a fountain. The creature loosed its hold and fell in slow motion, trailing multicolored streamers as it crashed to the ground far below.

  “That’s the spirit, Simon!” he heard Tyrus’s voice roaring through the pandemonium around him. “Get the bastards!”