by L. V. Lane
Yes, and there was that delusional hope again.
As we hit the ramp of the transport, I found Lai waiting amid a cluster of a dozen people. I wondered if Rachel had gotten down safely. She was part of the key personnel and although a geneticist wasn’t helpful short term, it definitely would be long term. She was also a friend, who had once upon a time been more. I had encouraged her to sign up when she had asked me about it. I understood I wasn’t responsible for either her decision or her current fate. And yet, I wasn’t entirely unmoved. She had some basic medical skills, and I was hoping that was why she wasn’t in the transport.
“How is Eva?” Lai asked.
“She’s fine.” I didn’t have a clue if Eva was fine, but the lie rolled off my tongue. She definitely hadn’t looked fine when I’d left her lying in the mud covered in copious amounts of blood.
But I needed her to be fine for many reasons, selfish and otherwise.
Whatever was going on here and whatever emergency we might be experiencing now, worse lurked under the surface. It was sure to raise its ugly head at the least convenient time.
As I hit the top of the ramp, the crowd parted. “We have movement in the chasm that we believe to be survivors. I’m going down with a team. Eric is in charge until I return. Another storm is approaching. Technical team, you’re with Riley on comms. Otherwise, I expect everyone outside, assisting Eric before the next storm hits. Lai, Arden, you’re with me.”
There were a few blank faces. They were all shocked and from their air of defeat, hoping things would miraculously sort themselves out. They shuffled off to their tasks, leaving me alone with Lai and Arden.
“You’re expecting me to make sense of this crazy weather?” Lai said.
“I am, otherwise you’re on shelter duty, too.” I smiled to take the sting out.
“I think I’d prefer shelter duty.” Lai motioned me to follow her deeper into the transport. “We don’t have access to any weather information since we lost comms. We do have barometric, though.” She pulled up some data.
I grimaced at the information that meant absolutely nothing to me. “I don’t have a single science-orientated cell in my brain. Let’s keep it simple.”
She shifted to an aerial image. “This was taken from the ship just before we lost the link.” She tapped a couple of commands and our position appeared as a green dot. The image cycled through the condensed twenty-hour period up to the moment they lost comms.
Over the top of the dot, I could see the swirling storm clouds that had plagued our landings. To the bottom of the screen, edging onto the picture, was another thick band of clouds. My eyes shifted to the scale.
“Is that what I think it is?”
“Yes, another storm,” Arden said. “The pressure readings—I’m no expert, but—” He looked toward Lai. “We think this one will be worse.”
CHAPTER EIGHTEEN
Eric
WITH MY NEW friend in tow, I assessed the situation. Nearly 10,000 to mobilize into a semblance of a camp. I’d organized more substantial groups, but there had always been support of some kind on hand… and there had always been communication.
Spotting Reeve, a section leader, emerging from a transport, I changed track.
“I need the transports brought together while we have a gap in the weather.” I gestured over Reeve’s shoulder.
She turned to regard the solid band of clouds looming in the distance. “I see it,” she said. “Looks ominous. We’ll need shelter, too.”
I nodded. “I ordered the last twenty transports to be filled with supplies, but I was on the ground by then and the communications were sporadic. I’ve no idea what was and wasn’t loaded. I doubt we’ll have time for more than a cursory check now. Prioritize shelters and rations. Round everyone up. There are no free passes. If they don’t have serious injuries, they’re helping set up the camp.”
“Two transports can’t fly without running diagnostics.” Reeve had a serious demeanor. Like Jax, she’d had the foresight to don shell armor. “We’ll do a quick supply check as we relocate them.”
We’d gotten to know one another during our time on Nammu. I prided myself on my hand-to-hand combat techniques, but she’d kicked my ass a time or two during their pre-launch training. Her first name was Rose, although no one was brave enough to call her that to her face. She did have a beautiful rose tattoo on her ass that I’d admired during down time.
“Move those you can safely, leave the rest for now. Your earbud working?”
“No,” she replied.
I felt a glum expression overtake my face. How was I supposed to organize a colony without communication? “Rations are to be locked down. No one takes more than immediate needs.”
“We’ve plenty of rations, why would we worry?” Reeve asked, frowning.
It wasn’t going to take long before everyone realized the ship was gone. Landon was deluding himself if he thought we could keep it under wraps. “Commander’s orders. Until we can assess the weather, he doesn’t want to risk another trip back. We need some stability here… And we’ve had an animal attack, so make sure everyone is alert to the danger.”
She left, and I turned to the man at my side who had nearly sent Riley to a rocky death. “Show me where the animal attack occurred.”
The man wore a blank expression of someone teetering on the edge of exhaustion. I could empathize. It had been twenty-two hours since the abandonment call was made. Twenty-two hours of Hell in some of the worst weather conditions I’d experienced.
He directed me deeper into the forest. It wasn’t just the transports that had become scattered. People had also spread into the nearby vicinity in the rush of arrival. Five waves of mostly people, followed by a final wave for supplies.
A smattering of rain gusted between the trees. It was only light, but an indication that the band of clouds was closing in. More people stood or sat in clusters within the trees: Marines, medical personnel, and colonists—the injured and the able.
My snapped orders set them moving, ordering team leaders to spread word.
Wind stirred the tops of the giant trees and the rain started to fall in earnest. There were many people and still too much to do.
A shout came from the forest to my right. A second, terror filled cry, spurred me into a sprint that saw me leave my former guide far behind. The colonists made way for me, some immobilized, and some actively seeking to flee in the other direction.
“Clear the area!” My shout galvanized a few of the undecided ones into action. I hurdled a fallen branch… and then skidded to a stop.
Three colonists stood facing a giant, black cat. Its ears were pinned back, and its teeth bared. Another two colonists had frozen to the right.
There wasn’t a military person in sight.
And I had run straight into the middle of a standoff, and now, I was the one the beast was sizing up.
I reached down slowly to the place where a gun should have been… and cursed under my breath. I’m an idiot!
The beast snarled and swiped the air with a paw as big as a person’s head.
The rain started to come down with greater rigor—I was already sick of the rain—it added a surreal cast to the standoff.
People, I could deal with. Armed, unarmed, it didn’t matter, I would have known what to do, my odds, and my options. A giant black cat was beyond my personal experience. Landon’s instructions to ‘just shoot it’ were singularly useless given I lacked a weapon. Landon would be pissed if I died due to something this stupid. Why I hadn’t thought to take the gun from the colonist, who clearly had no idea how to use it, was a mystery to ponder another time when I wasn’t about to be mauled to death and carried off for dinner.
Behind me came the rushing rustle and snapping of branches as more people approached. I maintained my focus on the beast. If the new arrivals had weapons, they would have shot it and that meant I was on my own.
The cat flashed its teeth again, rumbling a warning that morphed into a
piercing snarl. That warning flooded my exhausted body with more adrenaline than was useful. Taking a slow step backward, my boot caught against a fallen log.
I glanced down for the briefest moment, blood pumping before my vision tunneled on the cat. Reaching down, I ripped up the branch. The cat swiped air again. I swung the branch—which I noted in a detached what-the-fuck-am-I-doing kind of way—was the size of a small tree.
The crack as it hit the animal square on the side of the head echoed unnaturally loud. The cat yelped and shook its head before emitting another teeth-baring snarl. I spread out wide, using the stick and my other arm to make myself look bigger. What the fuck am I doing?! Another air swipe was leveled my way. I swung the branch again. This time, the cat nimbly dodged the blow and shot into the trees.
Drained as the adrenaline abandoned me, I used the branch as a prop and turned around wearily to find Marik standing with a grin on his face and a rifle poised to shoot. The pulse-beam rifle dispensed explosive bullets, and at this range, the cat would have been dead within microseconds.
“I was going to shoot it but, damn, that was a beautiful moment of man versus beast,” Marik said. “Makes me wish I had my combat kit on so I could’ve recorded it.”
He was lucky I didn’t have the energy to clobber him with the branch.
Reeve was standing at Marik’s side. She towered over him and didn’t look impressed. It was hard to tell whether Marik’s questionable humor or my poor beast-slaying techniques were to blame… And she didn’t smile a lot, so it might have been a generalized grouchy expression. Now that I thought about it, I couldn’t remember her not being grouchy. Well, apart from when I was admiring her tattoo.
The withering look she sent toward the hunk of tree in my hand sent a clear and unambiguous signal that even without all the shit going down, my tattoo admiring days were over.
“Why are you standing around?” I asked. “Get everyone out of the forest and under shelter!”
CHAPTER NINETEEN
Landon
IN A GOD-like cue, the first flurry of rain hit the transport roof. I looked up; we all looked up.
I looked back down. “Worse how exactly?”
Lai’s fingers were shaking where they hovered over the viewer, and her face drawn with exhaustion. “The readings are dropping fast and low.” Lai indicated her viewer, which displayed a series of bars and charts that meant absolutely nothing to me. “And we don’t have any structures or real protection.”
I looked away with a shudder. The mere act of witnessing Lai’s analytics triggered bad memories from my painful academic years. My parents had been brilliant geneticists, and I was convinced they had formed a relationship in the soul interest of breeding the perfect protégé.
I hadn’t turned out quite to plan.
Variant. Few people mentioned it directly, but most people understood that was what I was. As Eva had determined, I still felt things, but they were muted and did not impact decisions. There were other benefits, if you could call them that: pain tolerance, endurance, and cell regenerative properties that were astounding even to the Aterrans who were already genetically enhanced.
I thought it likely I would need all those benefits through the coming days and weeks.
“Any idea how long it might last?” I asked.
“No, we don’t have enough data for any kind of weather predictions.” Lai’s face lifted from the viewer and her eyes met mine. “The pressure is dropping. It’s dropping fast. That’s as much as I can tell you. A storm is coming and it’s going to be big. Do you think we can restore the connection to the ship? If a team is going for supplies, perhaps we could ask Riley to check the equipment? We really need an orbital view.”
“Not a priority now.” I contemplated bringing Lai and Arden into the loop about the ship, but I didn’t have the time for the inevitable questions. In their exhausted state, I thought it would be more of a distraction. A heavier rattle hit the roof. “Keep monitoring. Let Eric know.” I had no idea if Eric had replaced his earbud, or whether Riley would get the comms back again in time. Or whether the storm would arrive before any of this mattered. “Let Riley know in case she manages to fix the comms.”
Another burst of rainfall hit the roof. “I need to leave. Update me if you can.”
I headed out. As I hit the ramp, electricity crackled in the air and a smattering of warm, fat, rain droplets pelted me. Outside had descended into chaotic industry as colonists and military alike rushed to and from the nearby transports with supplies.
I took a moment to orient myself. Transports were taking off and landing everywhere I looked. The sky to the front was a brilliant blue but a sense of threat emanated from behind. I turned to find a wall of gray clouds that must have reached several miles straight up, looming.
“Sir, we’re ready!”
Putting my back to that awful sight, I found a member of Jax’s team waiting. We took off at a jog for the transport we would take. The rain fell, light and steady. Shadows chased us, enveloping the entire area within gloom.
I hit the ramp at a run. The engine drone vibrated through the soles of my feet. We hadn’t yet cleared the ramp when it began to lift.
Inside, I found Jax waiting. He pressed a water bottle and an energy bar into my hands. “I’m sorry I couldn’t find any shell armor. We don’t have time now that the weather front is approaching.”
I took the proffered items as we covered the last stretch to the flight deck at a brisk pace.
“This is a bonus.” I indicated the rations. “I’ll worry about armor later.” Around twenty people were present, strapped in ready for take-off. “Is the landing site scoped?”
The navigator at the front answered promptly with, “Yes, sir.”
Rain beat against the window and its steady thrum against the roof gave indication the storm was indeed closing in. I flipped down the seat next to Jax and pulled the harness on. I hadn’t been expecting to get on another transport again quite so soon after my last hellish landing. “Good. Launch.”
As the craft rose, I snapped the bottle open and drained it. Then I ripped the energy bar open, broke a chunk off, and stuffed it into my mouth with far more urgency than finesse. My mother was a stickler for table manners, had she still been alive, she would have been appalled. Actually, most of my life choices appalled my mother, my eating techniques being the least of her concerns.
“I heard about your landing.” Jax’s lips twitched.
Swallowing required a concerted effort. I couldn’t remember the last time I’d eaten, and my stomach had given up complaining about the lack of nourishment hours before I left the ship. I should have been feeling tired by now, even for a Variant. But ever since my symbiotic friend joined me, my stamina had been off the charts.
I wasn’t going to complain.
“I’ve had my daily crash quota,” I said. “Happy to get this two minute trip over with.” A gust rocked the craft as I bit off another chunk. If I was about to die, I was dying with a full stomach.
Another sharp gust buffeted the transport again as we lifted off and began the slow descent into the chasm. Given this was a hulk of a transport intended to ferry people and supplies to and from space, the tight confines of the chasm, the numerous water hazards spewing over the edge, and the onset of the storm, I could handle the slow descent.
Finishing the last of the bar, I basked briefly in the heady post-food satisfaction.
How the hell did I end up here?
It wasn’t the first time I’d asked myself this question. It often popped up during those rare interludes of peace during challenging operations. I’d lived a privileged life prior to enlisting. I came from a wealthy family, and I could have avoided mandatory conscription. That I voluntarily joined brought my parents a great deal of angst.
“Four hundred,” the navigator called out, rousing me from my thoughts and reminding me, as if it were possible to forget, that we were far from settled into this new world.
“Thr
ee hundred.”
I didn’t know exactly what I would find when we landed, but certainly there would be death.
“Two hundred.”
But among the deaths, there was always life.
“One hundred.”
We had gotten down here, and given the conditions and circumstances, I was surprised and gratified by how small our losses are.
The transport touched down with only the slightest bump.
As the engine began to cycle down, buckles were opened, and people rose from their seats. Out the front window, an unnatural darkness had settled. I could no longer hear the patter of rain, but I could remember the wall of clouds and I knew this respite would be short.
I glanced across at Jax, who was heading toward the exit ramp. “Distance to the crash?”
“Five hundred,” Jax called over his shoulder.
The pilot flicked the transport lights onto broad-beam mode, bathing the surrounding ground in a stark artificial relief. Turning my back on the view, I headed for the exit where I found Jax loading everyone with supplies. I almost wished Eric were here so I could enjoy poking at his inferiority complex.
With a prepared backpack shucked on, we set out, booted feet crunching and slipping against the shale riverbank. To our right, a tumulus roar from the nearby rushing river threw up spray.
I grumbled a complaint.
Jax flashed a grin that was all white teeth against the gloom. “Trust me,” he said. “A bit of spray is nothing compared to the rain.”
Beyond the reach of the transport beams, darkness engulfed us broken by the occasional patch of swirling gray in the clouds. Ahead, I could just make out the shadowy bulk of the two transports rising like monsters from a watery grave.
Our flashlights were few, and the beams lit the ground in patches as we drew nearer to the looming presence of the first wrecked transport. Thunder rumbled, gaining magnitude until it reached a deafening roar. The sky darkened further, and everyone slowed to a walk as we hit the first patches of debris.