by Zaslow Crane
I looked up at the sun.
Already well past its zenith. Should’ve gotten an earlier start. Oh well…this is far more than I’ve done in years. This is pretty jaz…Far more than any of my friends…
Okay. This is probably enough. I’m here; actually, and really. Maybe it’s time to go back.
I compulsively consulted my sat fone and data device. I checked on the weather and, just for fun, looked to see what weather was predicted for the next 30 days.
I stopped at a flat part of the pathway and looked up and then down the path, trying to decide if this was enough.
My dad was a big influence in my life. I wanted to do whatever he might have smiled upon, had he been here. So, I decided to go a bit further down the trail, because my Dad would have been proud of his intrepid outdoorsman.
Then I changed m’mind.
This is enough.
I was about to turn around. I’d had enough exploring.
I was about to go back Home.
I guess I shifted my weight on the dirt path and that too, was enough.
The path gave way.
One moment, I was taking in the sights and sounds; the next I was tumbling head over heels, through brush, down and down.
Funny, the stuff that goes through your mind at a time like that: the feel of the dirt as it rushed by me, the smell of the bushes I’d half crushed with my body as gravity tugged me toward the bottom of the ravine…I wondered if the critters had undermined the walkway with their burrows too.
I finally ended up stopped at the bottom. I was in an uncomfortable angle.
As I struggled to right myself, I also tried to assess if I was hurt. Signals were stumbling in from various parts of my body, so I attempted to get my bearings. I sat up. There was an explosion of pain. One leg was resting at a weird angle.
If I didn’t move, it didn’t hurt so much.
So fine. I won’t move.
This is fucked. How am I going to get out? Surely there will be a search drone.
I reveled in self-recrimination and at my bad luck for a few pain-filled moments, then I recalled my satfone.
I’ll call for help. No problem.
I patted my pockets.
Nothing.
It must have fallen out as I tumbled.
Oh damn. Damn…Oh okay…the tracker. More patting; steadily becoming more urgent, as nothing turned up; again, not on my person.
In desperation, I looked around. Twisting my body brought me up short.
Whoa! That’s painful!
I struggled to see either device; either device might save me. I scanned the hill above.
There it is! The tracker! Just out of reach; just up the hill.
It took me a few pain-filled moments, but I pulled myself up far enough to grab the little plastic device.
Flipping it over I discovered that the reassuring little green light wasn’t blinking any longer. The tracker was dark.
Damn. Not good. Must have been damaged in the fall.
A bit of nervous laughter bubbled up…I was slow-dancing with fear now.
I broke it…And he’s only got the one! He’s going to be…angry!
Maybe I hit my head or something on the way down. Maybe I blacked out for a while, because the next time I looked up at the sky, the sun had set. Twilight had begun in earnest.
Shit.
I started to list my options mentally. The list wasn’t very long at all. I couldn’t see much with the failing light and the vegetation growth at the bottom. I have precious little experience outside….
I guess it costs too much to clear brush if no one goes here anymore.
I really hadn’t considered that I might have to spend the night here before this moment. That was a sobering thought.
I have to endure all this just because I wanted to see and feel the outdoors? Just because I wanted to have a response to Chad who was such a superior-acting douche and collected Indian artifacts?
Of course, I tried shouting.
I hadn’t gone so far. Maybe my voice will carry.
I wasn’t thinking that there might be notes of distress in my
voice. Notes of distress that might bring unwanted company. Soon, I felt rather than heard something moving through the brush. I couldn’t see much…Oh no, they were too careful, for that, but I did see movement in the bushes maybe 30 or 40 meters away to my right, and more movement slipping by other bushes to my left.
Steady…It might not be anything.
Whoever they were, they were in no hurry.
I certainly wasn’t going anywhere.
It was then that I caught another smell. It was a sort of funky
and unpleasant scent. Since my eyes weren’t that useful, my hearing and sense of smell had stepped up. Then I heard soft panting, like in dog vids. It was surprisingly close by it was. Almost like someone whispering in my ear in the dark.
Then a thought came to me that chilled me to the bone: Wolves.
Finally, I had a shape and a threat to go with the stealthy movements around me.
I was being stalked by wolves!
I reached for stones and threw them at moving shadows. They hesitated. I got as big a stick as I could and I yelled, waving it menacingly. They drew back…for a bit.
I tried using the stick as a crutch.
I’ve gotta get out of here!
But it was dry and brittle, and I landed on my ass almost where I’d originally ended up. The fall took my breath away with the brilliant crescendo of pain from a really messed up limb. And in a few minutes, they were closing in again. They were patient and, dare I say, professional.
I could see four, no five pairs of eyes. Five pairs that were too brilliant in the rapidly diminishing ambient light…. Their eyes were almost as if lit from within, from some fire; some hatred of mankind, that burned from across the centuries.
Now they were within an easy rock throwing distance away from me. Unfortunately, I’d already thrown any rocks I could reach.
They were not afraid and moved as a team, getting closer, closer.
This is awful! My desire for status in my group is going to get me eaten!
Suddenly, two robotic …hounds bounded onto the scene and one launched itself at the leader snarling and clamping steel jaws on the wolf’s neck. He yelped in pain and the others melted into the brush as if they’d never really been there.
One dog stood guard over me, the other shook the wolf in its powerful jaws until the wolf was so afraid, it ran away as soon as it was released!
A camera emerged from my guardian’s head. It swung to the right and left, assessing my situation and documenting my fall in near IR-low light imaging, I assumed.
A calm voice emanating from the robodog’s chest spoke: “A hovercraft is on its way. You have nothing to be afraid of. All will be well again soon. Just relax.”
I was so relieved. Just a moment ago, I thought I was going to die!
I think I whimpered a bit, just to myself.
I was so grateful I wanted to cry.
lll My hovercam swung around my home and focused on my display case. I had the case specially made. It had been delivered by Robotic Services Inc., just this afternoon. I had a new prized possession and I wanted to be able to show it off to my friends.
Virtually, of course.
“Behind this glass, you’ll see an excellent three-dimensional representation of Canus Lupus Arctos…Just like one of the pack of blood thirsty beasts who almost killed me.”
“Impressive.”
“Ohhhhhhh!”
“Stunning!”
“Beautiful.”
“Amazing!”
Ah good. My friends approved. They are all watching from their homes, but “here” now for this “party”.
“I just finished pulling it out of my printer. It did a nice job, didn’t it?”
Waaaay more interesting than a bunch of lame Indian knives and pots and things!
“And you actually went out there?” O
ne incredulous friend inquired as she watched fixated, as the hovercam played slowly over the details of the powerful legs, after spending long, long seconds detailing the large canines and feral snarl.
“What were you thinking?” Another friend gushed.
I smiled in a sort of gleeful ignorance, having recently been granted…a new life.
“Honestly, I have no idea…Midlife fantasy of some sort, I suppose.”
I settled into my safe, cozy chair in my safe, cozy home, smiling.
My guests chattered on, sharing an audio channel on my home entertain-sys.
What the hell was I thinking…?
I chuckled silently, and shook my head at my most recent folly. I have no idea. Fuck…
No…idea at all…
The Roc of Petra
BY ZASLOW CRANE
“R
ed socks.”
That’s what the dead-drop message had said: “Wear red socks, and I will know you; and you me.” Where in the fecking hunymony will I find “red” anything on this monchromatic backwater planet?
It took half of an afternoon, but I got it done. That’s what I do, I get things done. That’s my specialty.
I lounged on one of the maglev train’s slings with my legs out into the aisle, thinking about the ad I’d seen. The ad that caused me to be here, now.
“ISO ex-military types adept with weapons and campaign experience for a paramilitary mission into the forest. The potential rewards are enormous, if the risk you are willing to take.”
So here I sat, showing off my red socks for my contact. It was yet another hot and hazy day in this backwater hellhole.
My name is Linklattar. I’ve been on this fly blown rustic rock for almost eight months. Eight months in which I’ve wondered about every decision I’ve made for the last couple of years, especially since leaving Earth and coming to Mirren. I considered going back, back to Earth, as I do every so often, if for no other reason than to get the hell out of here.
Being here, as bad as it is, is better than going back right now. I know for a fact that some of those people back there… will still be holding a grudge.
The natives were as inscrutable as the weather; all hot, dry and dusty with occasional short showers. These showers always surprise me, but the natives always seemed to know beforehand. Weird.
As instructed, I wore nondescript colors and fashions, instead of my ususal bodyarmor. I wore all light brown, the most common color in this part of the world. All tan except for the socks.
I wondered about that for a moment and then resumed looking out the window. I usually wear the light and very baggy pants favored by the natives here on Mirren. When standing still, the pants are so baggy they look like a full length skirt. I hate looking like a girl; the things I put up with trying to find work. Damn.
Geez.There isn’t anyone here but me and this lady with her bawling, ugly kid. I hope she’s not my contact…I looked around some more.
Waiting was never my strong suit.
Hell, I don’t even know if it’s a “he or she” I’m waiting to meet.
There was a slight jar and then the tingling…We’re moving again. Finally. We’ll be in Kino in less than an hour. What if he doesn’t show by then? There were no contingency instructions as to what I should do if that happens. That would be bad. I don’t think I even have enough for the return trip….It’s damn tough making a living ‘way out here.
I hadn’t even brought anything to read. The message had said to come empty-handed. So even though I could easily have left a reader on the train, I came empty-handed as I had been instructed. This might be a good paying gig. I didn’t want to blow that over a fecking reader.
The dun colored countryside whisked by the window at 400kph and what little I could see was more of a washed-out looking impression rather than anything in detail.
My sightseeing was interrupted by the lady and her fussing brat again. I looked around to glare at them for making so much noise. It was then that I saw a tall man wearing much the same outfit as me: a doublet and panatloons. He was standing in front of me, just looking.
I wasn’t in the mood. There were five cars. I looked up, pizzed off and tired.
“What? Can I help you with something?”
The man put his foot up on the opposite sling, exposing a red sock. He began tying his laces. Then he looked at me pointedly.
“Oh, I was just wondering, I was, if you knew if the train will be on time. Got an appointment, I do.”
I looked him up and down as he settled into the sling opposite.
Odd unplaceable accent…Earther, but removed…Mars?
“So far as I know, it is.”
“That’s blest. Thank you.”
lll Kino was a medium sized town near the frontier. It was where the maglev was spun around for its eventual run back to Cape City, the Capitol. I watched the tall guy for a clue, and when the train stopped, he looked pointedly at me, then got up to leave. So, I followed at a discrete distance.
I followed as if I were trailing him, but not bothering to be subtle. I wasn’t concerned if the tall guy glanced back. I looked around to see if anyone remarked on our passage though.
We passed the muni-center and continued toward the outskirts of town. The weak sun was already low in the Western sky as we rounded a corner and came upon a long, wooded grove. There was a dual row of very large green-dun trees with thick trunks, receding into the distance. These trunks and the leaves hiding everything in the area from prying eyes from above; housing a small bazaar.
As we drew nearer, I could see that one side seemed to be guys selling drugs.
Illicit drugs no doubt, way out here.
The other side…seemed to be a sort of anything-goes lover’s lane. I could make out various people in various stages of undress.
Oh hell, what the fuck is going on? What weirdness have I tumbled onto?
The tall guy had stopped. He was obviously waiting for me.
Meanwhile, two burly looking guys came out from a hollow in a nearby tree to block our way.
As I came close I heard the larger of the two ask: “What kin’ o fun you after? Left fun?” He gestured with a quick tilt of the head to the left side; the sex side. “…or right fun?”
The tall man who I arrived with said, “Neither. Talking only we are. He and me.”
This was not the answer either of the two giant meat roadblocks had been expecting or wanting.
The tall man turned to me.
“The MirrenGov watches and listens to everything. All places in this god forgotten metro are fully covered with cams and buggies…All places except here.”
Meanwhile, the two burly guys had reached a decision:
“You gotta go, you no buy something.”
“Yeah!” the other agreed
So, the other one had a tongue after all.
The tall man smiled ingratiatingly.
“I can pay. We’ll stay away from both sides. We just need a quiet place to chat.”
The two guys looked at each other, momentarily confused.
The tall man extracted a debit voucher from a fold in his doublet and handed it over. The second roadblock brother produced a scanner and after passing the card over it, he smiled and nodded.
The two guys backed away from their gate; doors, swinging wide.Each gestured to go right in.
“Nothing weird tho, you hear?”
The big man on the left whispered as I passed.
A few steps further on we got some strange looks from “vendors” on both sides. I tried to open my mouth to say something but with a sharp wave of a long fingered hand, the new guy cut me off. Instead, the new guy spoke: “I am Abbot. You are Bishop.”
“Wait a second, my name’s…”
His eyes met mine and flared a bit. Then, he restated himself more firmly.
“I am Abbot. You are Bishop. No real names. From now on until we’re done and we part ways. This is the only name we use. Understand?”
“Yes.”
“Good. I did some back checking on you. You’ve got a very strong reputation on Homeworld. Tell me why you’re on Kino?”
We walked.
“There was a misunderstanding…” I started.
“Yes, I heard.”
“I felt that it was expedient to leave rather than try to sort things out, at least until tempers had cooled a bit.”
I looked around and doing so, I noticed the two roadblock brothers giving us the stinkeye.
Abbot followed my eyes, noted possible trouble, nodded and continued.
“I see. So, are you finding a lot of work way out here. Is there much work for a man with your unique skills?”
“No. To tell the truth, I’m pretty amazed at how expensive everything is here, considering what a flyblown waste tract this whole planet is.”
“And?”
“And, your ad sounded like something I could excel at and make enough gin to get off this damn rock.”
“Well, that maybe so. I’m putting together a team of specialists. We’re going after something that will set us all up for life. However, I must tell you, that I seriously doubt that all of us will return alive.”
I stopped walking.
“Hmmm. How dangerous?”
His smile was as cold as a reptile’s.
“No moreso than Taranga Straits….”
I gritted my teeth. Taranga Straits. Damn. I thought back.
“We lost half the division taking that feckstick Taranga. Then, we had to dash out because the bastards booby-trapped it. We lost even more when the entire island sank!”
That was the last place I wanted to remember right now.
“As I say, risks, there are.”
“Understood.”
I was weighing my options when the roadblock brothers came up behind us. Each was hefting a long fat dowel with lots of divots in each.
Lots of use in that bludgeon, I thought.
Abbot turned to the two big guys. I noticed that he’d deftly palmed an out-of-a-pocket a small round device. From out of the device, I could see twinkling “string” playing out. Abbot stayed cool and calm and the brothers didn’t seem to notice the string, but I did! I slowly backed away scanning for something I might use as a weapon.