Resurrection Dawn

by Marc Secchia

  Cruddy lumoslugs! What could be worse than a sea of gigantic electrical jellyfish – oh, had to ask the stupid question, didn’t you?

  Worse was that the jellyfish plainly reacted to her presence. Pulsing massively, five or six of the immense bodies closed in.

  The flash of fear ignited her belly. She wrenched her body sideways. More give! Her fingers almost, almost touched the sheath of her nanodagger at her left hip. Again! And again! Exerting every ounce of her newfound strength, Alodeé fought to contort her body far enough.

  Her conveyance plowed into the bell of one of the jellyfish at high speed and slowed to a halt.

  Excellent. Now the falling and tentacles delicately drooping just a few mets away in the corner of her eye, waiting to sizzle her flesh. The screen came alive.

  “Great. Now’s when you release me, right?”

  Operational parameters exceeded, she read off the screen. Initiate self-destruct sequence. Enjoy dying alone, Alodeé.

  She gaped at the final sentence.

  The display switched to 30 … 29 … 28 …

  “You sick mutant sausage!” she screamed at whoever had done this to her. “I am not dying – not dying today!”

  One problem with freaky Class U strength. She could hurt herself. Alodeé distinctly felt the skin rip off her wrist as she forced her fingers down, out, then sideways against the rough canvas-like edge of the loading strap. Curl them about the hilt – ignore the pain! Pain was nothing. She arched her hips. Further! Force it! Tearing the dagger loose, she reversed it in her trembling fingers, praying she would not fumble the weapon. The rocket began to tumble down the bell of the jellyfish, burning a great black swathe through the rubbery pink flesh.

  … 15 … 14 …

  She sawed frantically at the nanofiber-reinforced strap. The ultra-sharp dagger should be capable, but the extreme wrist position meant it was almost impossible to bear down with any force.

  … 9 … 8 … 7 …

  A sob escaped her lips as the blade slipped in her bloody fingers. Finally, the material parted. “Got it!”

  Swinging her arm up and across her body, she attacked the strap beneath her right armpit. Easier now. The material parted within secs. She sat up, momentarily squashed between the tumbling rocket and the very soft jellyfish. Ankles!

  … 5 … 4 …

  Kicking off the rocket as it rolled slowly on its axis, Alodeé found her footing in the noticeably lighter gravity and sprinted away as if launched by a photon cannon. Direction did not matter. Distance did. Her mental countdown continued as she toppled, diving shallowly downward over the margin of the jellyfish’s flared hood in the scant hope that it would shield her slightly from the blast.

  GRABOOM!! A terrible shockwave punched her in the legs before imploding around her ears. Pink flesh fountained past her flying body.

  She tumbled into space.

  Alive.

  Yelling something idiotic, she fist-pumped twice before realising that the jellyfish tentacles did not hang straight down, but seemed to ripple toward her from the direction she had come from, from the wall. A strong breeze? That was rather inconvenient, because with her excellent natural flying characteristics, she would drop like a stone. No chance of her avoiding getting frazzled a few hundred mets further down.

  She sheathed the dagger, stat. What next?

  Parachute! Slapping frantically at the package strapped to her chest, she found the release ring and yanked it hard. It crossed her mind that the parachute might have been added later, perhaps by a different person or group who had launched her. Also, it was defective.

  The right shoulder strap tore away, leaving her dangling. And yelling. Doing a lot of that today.

  Extra-light gravity turned her fall into something much closer to a delicate floating operation, perhaps at a third of the velocity she expected.

  Mutant sausage? Where did that come from?

  Kicking, wriggling and spitting a few of her Dad’s favourite soldier words, Alodeé tumbled slow-motion into a curtain of waving, frond-like pink tentacles. Plenty of time to appreciate how they crackled audibly, seeming to suck toward her shrinking skin as she struggled with the collapsed aerofoil parachute and how she could do nothing about it. A surge of power caused her ears to tingle. Her clothing ignited. Kerpoof. It burned up so rapidly, only dust fell off her body. Boots. Trousers. Shirt – but not the belt, nor the parachute and its pack, nor her combat skin and armour. Different materials?

  Plus, the fronds tickled her as if she were a newfound friend.

  The pent-up power of lightning bolts and thunderstorms, so immense that her loose titian curls stood in a great fan above her head, crackling too, somehow did not frazzle her. Alodeé, parachute and a few items which had been left in her pockets, landed in a heap atop the bell of a jellyfish a few hundred mets below.

  Her neck twizzled. I’m alive, how?

  Super-confused. She had been strapped to a rocket, but left with her tools, weapons and a parachute pack. Now, she turned up in electric monster jellyfish land and, apart from having her hairstyle rearranged, had not yet been consumed or zapped into dust. Shame about the clothing, but hey, this girl could not afford to be picky. She had another two layers. Belt. Survival pack with its tiny fold-out water flask. Weapons of a sort. If this place had any carnoraptors – none in sight – they’d lick their fangs at the odds against a girl armed only with a couple of fancy blades and her wits.

  Reeling in the parachute cords with hands numbed by disbelief, she checked everything – aerofoil, fabric, control cords, down to the pack. Good enough. It could be rigged. Tied off. Reinforced with – ah, there it was – a couple of mets of cargo strap lay on the rubbery surface nearby, having also survived the self-destruct mechanism. Excellent! Industriously, she retrieved the bits and pieces she could and restored the parachute harness to a workable form.

  By the time she looked up, she had a grinning audience. Ah, flying feline-like creatures with lovely gleaming smiles full of white fangs – formed of a substance she could not place. Deep, hot pink liquid crystal with shining white flecks ablaze like stars in their skin?

  While she admired their beauty, they admired her edible properties.

  Freeze. Don’t make any fast moves. Get this parachute ready. The creatures stood about 1.2 mets tall, which was not huge, but since they numbered ten and had the wings, fangs and – oh, razor-sharp talons – of course they would. She was not in a position to argue. Especially not since they had a goodly number of friends joining them from all directions, more appearing by the sec, winging in graceful groups around the mighty jellyfish mountains.

  Sigh. Shall we make friends? Lick my hand and let meaty-me go?

  Crouching down, she extended her hand.

  Frr-sss! The group facing her flared their wings, bared their fangs and burst into flame! Statue time. Her heart rate had to be something ridiculous. Move a muscle and she was dead.

  What was it with power in these parts? The cats did not burn up.

  Hello, Phoenix Cats – that’s what I’ll call you. Nice kitties. Alodeé’s your friend, see? Pretty kitties … lovely flying kitties, we’re not going to eat Alodeé, are we?

  In pink jellyfish land, these creatures must be king. Eyes ablaze, they stared at her until she thought to lower her gaze. Aloud, she said, “So, shall we be friends?”

  An awful silence yawned all around her.

  Then, so delicately that she shivered, nostrils snuffled her knuckles. The fire was noticeably cool, even scented like exotic peppermint. Suppose that went with the giant pink creature theme. Having not lost any fingers as yet, she murmured in tingling wonder, “You are quite extraordinary, you know?”

  A paw touched the back of her neck. The creature chirruped something high-speed, fluid, musically outlandish in what sounded like five-part harmony, bells and horns. Having apparently declared that this curious two-legged biped was harmless, or submitted herself to the masters of the air, the others gathered around to s
niff her hair, face, hands and feet. She tried to wrestle her heartbeat under some kind of control. When she made to rise, however, they all burst into flame again. Alodeé spoke calmly. The fires winked out.

  “Skittish little fellows, aren’t you? So, you wouldn’t mind telling me where I can find the nearest sources of water and food, would you?”

  The group of Phoenix Cats, which had swelled now to hundreds, shuffled about and rearranged themselves, creating a corridor leading east.

  Alright. Clear enough.

  Further from home. Why not?

  Suppose she’d just get this parachute ready and go throw herself into the mauve yonder? Even the creatures in the air had shown the way. The steady breeze meant only one choice, unless she found an alternative means of transportation. After remembering to pack her fallen effects into the base of the parachute pack, Alodeé walked a ways to the edge of the jellyfish. Glancing back the way she had come, she observed that the translucent wall was long since out of sight. Jellyfish everywhere.

  Breathtaking.

  With a low chuckle, the mad Class U Humanoid flung herself over the edge. The yellow aerofoil rose behind her, steadying as it filled and billowed outward.

  A girl drifted in a world of ethereal jellyfish, surrounded by burning pink Phoenix Cats who began to play as she sailed on the breeze. They looped, somersaulted, danced in mesmerising three-dimensional formations and snuck up on one another to scare their friends into bursting into flame. Their play cheered her. This new world could not be all bad if these were the kinds of creatures which dwelled here – capable of speech, too. Their songs were complex and imaginative.

  Not to say the next thing she encountered might not want to eat her alive, but so far, so good. Most important need? Food and water. She was not ready to eat jellyfish just yet. Especially since they were being nice to her.

  Chapter 13

  Standard 1301.06.03 Estimated.

  JERKING AWAKE FROM A nightmare about her Mom and Dad being chased by spectral fiery cats through endless realms of fire, Alodeé checked her surrounds reflexively. Not the best night. She had slept sporadically, constantly concerned about flying into some new situation or surprise. The breeze had swelled to a steady gale, buffeting her yellow aerofoil as she swept along without, she sensed, losing a great deal of altitude. Occasionally she swept or trailed through the terrifying electrical pink curtains, but they did no harm to her or her parachute.

  How weird was this?

  The rising sun bathed her world in light pink hues. The brilliant, light mauve wash poured through her jellyfish land, visible as a vague brighter splodge through the constantly shifting, wafting army of jellyfish. Her stomach gurgled urgently. Weak and light-headed from hunger, she knew that she could not last much longer without some form of nutrition.

  By late morning, the pink sea finally showed signs of dispersing. Alodeé swung eagerly on her parachute straps. What next?

  Barrenness. Her heart sank as she cruised out over a horizontal ocean of unrelenting, perfectly flat wine-red water. Despite the gale force winds, her eyes tricked her into thinking there might be slight ripples down there, half a klom beneath her feet. Maybe she could go fishing? Yep, in an ocean the consistency of gloopy paint. Literally, nothing else out here. She had an unobstructed view of the mauve sky out over the flat, thin-looking white, azure and grey planetary rings; a lower horizon of red water; and the jellyfish realm receding behind.

  Alodeé the blob on an abstract painting.

  She remained a dangling blob for hours. And hours. Yawn! More hours, dipping steadily toward the water. Nothing changed, apart from her hunger.

  Despite the low gravity and considerable forward momentum, she had to come down eventually. She held her feet up for a few mins, postponing the inevitable. The featureless water did indeed ripple slightly, but the surface viscosity had to be off the scale. Nothing moved beneath the surface, but no smart explorer would believe that impression for a sec. Alright. Land, gather in the parachute, use it as a flotation device. Prepare to swim for the rest of her life. Great. Wasn’t exoplanet survival just the best? She could write books about nothingness. Oh and jellyfish.

  Do it, Alodeé. Feet down.

  Landing with a viscous, oily splosh, she jolted in surprise and stood up straightaway. Knee-deep ocean? So surprising, she had hurt her knee. Rubbing the spot absently, she yelped as something grew so rapidly beneath her feet, it tossed her into the air! Blub! She went under properly this time. Something grabbed her lightly armoured behind!

  “Get off!”

  She flew into the air again. Well, not so much a grab as a – splot.

  Alodeé gazed about in consternation. Tiny ripples receded from her feet. Suddenly, thousands of thin white stems rose from the water around her. Before her nanodagger blurred into her left hand, they budded into fat white flowers. The nearest bent to press against her knees and thighs. Flower kisses?

  “Not again!” With a lurch, up and down she went.

  More kisses.

  The white flowers tossed her several more times, more and more excitably, before Alodeé began to sense this was some kind of game or physiological reaction. This ocean was no ocean. It was a vast, tympanic membrane not unlike a Humanoid eardrum and she was being bounced about by some sonic reaction discernible as a huge, ultra-low drumbeat created every time she landed. Apart from the peculiar flowers having a disturbing predilection for smooching her rear end – ahem – she kept an eye peeled for predators as the peculiar bouncing reaction continued. Collecting the parachute with care, she made sure it was ready, not tangled in any way and packed it into her rucksack.

  Could she run along this Ocean of Osculating Flowers?

  An exoplanetary explorer also ought to name places she discovered properly. Unfortunately, this ridiculous label was also the only name which stuck in her mind.

  Debating what she might do, Alodeé startled as the white flowers, as far as the eye could see, flashed up, budded and opened several times in rapid succession. Great ripples spread away from her knees. The colours flashed to yellow, orange and pink, in great concentric waves of colour. Pretty, but alarming. Swivelling, she yelped as the underwater bloom tossed her into the air once more and that was when she caught sight of something on the western horizon. A ripple – no, a wave. A very large, fast-moving wave sweeping across this ocean.

  Predictably, here comes trouble. A great deal of it.

  One of Dymand’s favourite sayings was, “Alomonster, sometimes in life it’s good to stop and ask questions. Other times, you just run like hell. Learn the difference.”

  First time he said that was when they took a frightened seven year-old out of class to visit her Daddy in the Infirmary. He had come back from a scrape with a carnoraptor; his left shoulder was heavily strapped, but he had a big smile for her and held out his good arm.

  “Come here, girlie.”

  Then, he sat her down and they played twenty questions, starting with, “Daddy, what if you’d died like Mommy?”

  “I didn’t,” was his answer.

  Guess the evasiveness started early, Dad. Grit the teeth. When I return, you and I will talk!

  Picking up her knees, Alodeé trampoline-ran toward the horizon.

  It took her a few mins to work out the most efficient stride, which could take advantage of the explosive power of these flowers. She ran in 15-met bounds. The wave came in far faster than she moved, rising behind her like the legendary tsunami they had studied in Oceanography. When the frothing crest was a klom behind and rising 45 mets toward the sky, she gave up the bounding to sprint away across the viscid water surface. As light and quick as she was, she could flit across without sinking. This time, no holding back to conserve her strength. The wave thundered like a vast avalanche. Thousands of floral mouths speckled that deep red slope, plenty large enough to be seen from a distance. Great, champing, flowery mouths that patently wanted to kiss her to death.

  Nowhere to hide out here. One option.
Pinning back her ears, she skimmed across the surface, trying to pace the wave. Remembering what her Dad had said – canids sprinted at 100 kloms plus, but no Humanoid could keep that up for long and the wave was still pacing her. Easily. Her strength could not last. Slowing until her feet broke through the surface and she found purchase on the bottom again, Alodeé faced the wave. Pick a spot. Dive through it. Avoid those flower monsters.

  A wave ten times taller than her head now.

  As she tensed up ready for her dive, the flowers popped, sweeping her feet right out from under her. “Freaking –” Sucking in a huge breath, she went under in a tumult of flowers.

  Wine-red water, thick and opaque, sheeted over her as Alodeé instinctively tried to fight off the weird mouths, her nostrils filled with gorgeous floral scents and a trace of her own terror. With her legs sucked in on one end, more of the creatures hanging off her torso and another engulfing her head, she pummelled wildly at the soft bodies for longer than she imagined her breath ought to last, before the tumbling movement completed its course and popped her back up to the surface.

  No, not being eaten. Not even being slowly digested by plant juices in a lingering, horrible death. Popping her head up, she discovered herself being hustled toward the horizon at a ridiculous speed. Her seat was a fleshy trio of lips perhaps 5 mets across, which had latched itself to these flowers’ favourite part of her anatomy.

  She had never been more grateful for combat skin and armour.

  Oddly, the previously bitter water now had a tang of sweetness. Her tongue dabbed reflexively at her lips. Nectar?

  The instant the thought crossed her mind – the instant – several dozen of the massive, multi-coloured flower things popped up and oriented their triangular mouthparts towards her.