Torran

by Leslie Chase

  “Hey,” he said, nearly shouting. “My sister doesn’t need your protection. Who put you in charge, anyway?”

  “In the absence of the Colony Coordinator, someone has to take the lead,” Mr. Carrington said smugly, drawing himself up to his full height and looking down his nose at my brother. “Since I have the most experience, I will take on that duty.”

  His three sons gathered behind him and I knew that there wasn’t any winning this fight. If we pushed it things would get ugly fast. All three of Carrington’s sons were older than Malcolm and Tania: an election would hang on who got to vote rather than who was the best candidate.

  I put my hand on Malcolm’s shoulder, trying to make the best of a bad situation. “Fine. Someone has to be in charge, and it might as well be you. We ought to set up some defenses, though.”

  “Indeed,” he said, smiling down at me as though I had finally shown a sign of intelligence. I bit down on an angry retort, letting him speak. “Though there is much else to do. We will be safe enough here if we don’t draw attention, and I’ll keep an eye out for trouble. I’m an experienced hunter, no one’s going to sneak up on me.”

  Idiot, you can’t keep watch the whole time. I let it pass though. No point in picking a fight.

  “What’s your plan?” Maria asked.

  “Clear more of the trees, set up a farm here,” Carrington said, a distant look in his eyes. “We’re in this for the long term after all. And the men will be busy hunting while you ladies set up the farms.”

  “If we’re going to be setting up permanently, Lisa is right,” Alex Dietrich spoke up finally. “We must set up our defenses. If not against the aliens, then against predators. The ultrasonic fences should protect us if we use the updated settings from the Wandering Star.”

  I shuddered, glad we hadn’t tried to set up the fence before we’d gotten that message. According to the broadcast, the original settings were worse than useless. Ultrasound intended to keep Arcadian animals at bay would drive the Crashland wildlife into a frenzy instead.

  “Very well, set them up if you wish,” Carrington replied, sounding annoyed. “For now, get some trees down and I’ll get on with bringing in food. We’ll need it while the rest of you set up the farms.”

  Not bothering to listen to any objections, he turned and left, his boys following. I ground my teeth.

  “This is stupid,” Malcolm muttered. “Why won’t he take it seriously? There are aliens out there!”

  As his wife turned back to the patched-up communicator, Alex sighed and shook his head. “To be fair, he’s probably right. We’re out of the way, far from the Wandering Star. There’s no reason to think the aliens will ever find us here.”

  “It is a gamble,” Maria said. “But it is one he is likely to win. We just have to pray he is right and keep our rifles at hand.”

  “Then why make a fuss about always going armed and not going far?” Malcolm asked. Maria chuckled sadly.

  “Because that puts him in charge. As long as there’s a threat, he uses it to keep us in line. And as long as the threat doesn’t manifest, he doesn’t have to do anything about it.”

  I swallowed nervously, not liking the sound of that. But it fit. “Can you fix the transmitter? Or maybe reach someone closer?”

  Contact with the other colonists might help — especially if a larger pod had come down nearby. Just having the option of somewhere to go would make me feel a lot better. But Maria shook her head. “I can fix the damage, ja. Unfortunately the transmitter is in a poor position here, and unless we reposition it we will not get a signal far. If there were satellites in orbit, then certainly. Without them, there is nothing I can do. No one will hear us.”

  “Great.” I stuck my hands in my pockets and looked around the room. “I guess we’d better get to work clearing trees.”

  The next few days passed peacefully enough, though the Carringtons were ever more annoying in their assumed authority. It wasn’t enough that Mr. Carrington bossed us around, his sons copied his attitude easily and thoughtlessly.

  To be fair, the four of them brought in enough food for us all, though they never stopped reminding us where our meals came from. Quill-rabbit turned out to be good eating, and the ship’s nutrient paste (while disgusting) added the vitamins we needed to our diet. Maria kept working the radio, pulling in updates and mapping the settlements she could detect.

  One night over dinner Maria dropped another bombshell. “There is a settlement nearby. One of the big colony pods came down in the mountains to the south. Close enough to reach perhaps.”

  Carrington sniffed. “Perhaps over known terrain. Through these woods? It would be a long walk, and a dangerous one. No, better we stay here.”

  “We can take the rover,” Malcolm said excitedly, and Tania nodded quickly. I grinned. Malcolm had loved driving the hover vehicle during training back on Earth, and here was a chance to put it to use. Carrington gave the two children a withering look, though.

  “Hardly safe,” he said. “We don’t even know that there is a path to the mountains large enough for the rover. First we must make ourselves secure here. Then, perhaps, we can spare someone to try the journey and say hello to our neighbors.”

  Maria and I exchanged glances. We knew better. Carrington didn’t intend to give up his authority here until he had to. There didn’t seem much point in saying that out loud, though.

  “Perhaps we should make contact now, just in case,” I suggested, trying to sound meek and hoping that he’d listen. “In an emergency it might be good to have access to somewhere with a better medical facility.”

  Carrington’s smile was as fake as a plastic flower. “Nonsense, Lisa, you should have more confidence in yourself. You can manage anything we need with our sickbay and autodoc.”

  “But what if Lisa gets sick?” Malcolm asked. Carrington’s face pinched, the smile vanishing.

  “Then we’ll face that problem when it turns up,” he snapped. “We can’t risk the journey. Not with only one rover, and the warning that there are dangerous animals out there. Too much to lose, and too much else that we have to work on.”

  The rest of us exchanged glances. He wasn’t wrong, exactly. The rover was a tough little vehicle, able to hover over most obstacles, but pushing through forested hills without guidance still sounded like a good way to drop it down a crevice or something.

  On the other hand, it conveniently kept us here in his power. Not something any of us were comfortable with, but what could we do? Even assembling the rover would take at least a day and there was a lot of other work we needed to get on with.

  “Fine,” I said after a while. “But once the farm’s set up, we have to take a trip out and establish contact. Eventually we’ll need more medicines if nothing else.”

  The autodoc wasn’t designed to run for long on its own. Even just testing the soil and the animals had run down some of its supplies and Carrington knew it. Reluctantly, he nodded.

  “We’ll revisit the question then,” he agreed, fake smile back. “And we’ll scout the terrain in that direction while we work.”

  That was the best we would get, I thought. A few weeks or months of this didn’t seem too bad and once there was a route to another settlement I wouldn’t feel so trapped.

  We all took turns taking samples of everything we could find, carefully testing our surroundings for edible or useful resources. I was grateful for each chance to get out of the colony pod and into the woods, and I enjoyed my solitude amongst the strange, alien trees.

  Sure, I wasn’t supposed to be alone. Carrington wanted me to bring one of his sons along, but I valued my solitude too much for that. And, honestly, I felt safer with Crashland’s wildlife than I did with David Carrington — the young man looked at me like I was some kind of prize to be won and I dreaded being alone with him.

  He hadn’t done anything. Not yet. And I didn’t want to give him an opportunity. So when my turn came, I snuck off alone and took a rifle for protection.

/>   Going armed was overkill. Henry ought to see off any Crashland wildlife with his ultrasound, projected from the special speakers on my wristband. Better safe than sorry, though, so I took the gun too.

  Crashland’s short day caught me by surprise, and when evening fell, I was still outside the ultrasonic fence. The light dimmed, the purple trees looming over me, their strange shadows adding to the unearthly ambience as I hurried back. If I didn’t reach the pod by dark Carrington would demand an explanation. Worse, he might insist that his son accompany me everywhere from now on. That felt like a fate worse than death.

  But something else worried me too. Something at the edge of my awareness. A feeling of being stalked, hunted. Had one of the big predators finally made its way here? I’d heard descriptions of monsters over the comms and thanked my lucky stars that none of them lived in our area.

  I checked with Henry: according to him, the ultrasound was working fine, but of course I couldn’t hear a thing. Maybe the speakers were broken? Henry still barked, but that didn’t mean the higher frequencies that scared off animals were playing.

  Worrying that my luck had run out, I glanced over my shoulder, shrinking from every shadow. The colony pod wasn’t far now, but the light dimmed around me. I crossed the boundary of the ultrasonic fence and relaxed a little. None of the wildlife should be able to pass the posts, driven away by the sounds that no human could hear.

  If there was a native predator behind me, I should be safe from it now. Rather than hurry home, I decided to take the time to see what was stalking me, if anything. Ducking behind a fallen tree, I turned to look back past the fence, expecting to find nothing. It had, I was certain, all been in my imagination.

  I’d laugh at myself, go back to the pod, and get something to eat. Forget all about it until the next time I let my brain spook me. Yep.

  Henry didn’t share my optimism. He stared silently back into the forest, his teeth bared. An adorable puppy trying to look threatening, standing between me and harm. I blinked. That wasn’t my imagination.

  Maybe we’d both been spooked by nothing at all, but that seemed less likely. I strained my eyes, staring into the gathering dusk. Trees moved in the gentle wind, but I saw a hint of something else.

  My rifle was slung over my shoulder and I lifted it slowly, remembering the lessons. Easy to use, easy to aim. Bracing the stock against my shoulder, I aimed into the dusk and looked again, focusing where Henry pointed.

  Someone was moving in the trees. In the dim light I barely saw them — wasn’t sure I had seen them, in fact. I checked again and couldn’t see anything now. But some instinct told me not to ignore the hologram’s warning, and I put my finger on the trigger as I searched for my target. I only caught glimpses of whatever moved out there. A shadow moving in the darkness, following my trail.

  Whatever it was, the shadow ignored the fencepost and crossed the invisible line no Crashland animal should be able to pass. My hands shook and I took a deep breath to steady myself. If it wasn’t a native animal, then what was hunting me? One of the prytheen? That wasn’t a comforting thought.

  Had it seen me, too? I didn’t know. Behind the fallen tree I was in pretty good cover, and the dim dusk light meant that everything blurred together. If I kept low and moved slowly, perhaps I’d get away unseen.

  Maybe it’s one of the Carringtons, I told myself. Out hunting too late. I didn’t believe it for a second, though. Whatever I’d seen, it moved with a grace that was beyond any human I’d ever seen.

  There! Something moved again, closer this time, heading towards the pod. I bit my lip, heart hammering in my chest, and eased off the safety. The rifle felt like a lead weight in my hands as I pointed it in the direction of the movement.

  It had to be a prytheen, one of the alien attackers who’d forced us down on this planet. And that meant that we were in deadly danger. Fingers trembling, I looked down the sights and tried to make out my target through the strange, alien trees. Closer now, I caught glimpses of it. Something humanoid, blue-skinned, big but silent. Something dangerous.

  It — he? — moved closer. Headed for the pod. For Malcolm. Undeniably alien, he moved with the easy grace of a hunting cat ready to pounce. And I would not let him pass. I couldn’t. Leaning against the tree, I braced myself and sighted carefully. My finger took up the slack on the trigger and I squeezed.

  The crack of the shot was loud in the quiet forest. The rifle slammed into my shoulder, the muzzle rose, and for a terrible moment I wondered what would happen if I’d missed my shot. But when I brought the sights down again, my target lay slumped against a tree.

  I’d shot someone. My fingers shook as I stood and ran over to see who, what, I’d shot. I didn’t know what to feel, what to think. I had to do it, I told myself. He was hunting me.

  The alien lay against the tree where I’d shot him, hands clutching at his stomach and blue blood pulsing through his fingers. I looked down at him — tall, muscular, handsome in an inhuman way. Golden eyes looked back at me out of a rugged face, and his chest rose and fell as he breathed through sharp teeth. Even injured, he looked dangerous. Powerful. He wore a tight tunic and over it, webbing holding more knives than any one man had a right to.

  He? Yes, he was definitely, undeniably male. I swallowed, lowering the rifle. He was no threat to me now. What do I do now?

  The obvious answer was to call the pod and tell everyone. I should have done that right away, but the shock of seeing, of shooting, an alien had been too much for me. Fumbling to activate my wristband comm, I wondered what the other colonists would make of this.

  Before I could make the call, I heard a branch snap behind me. Swinging around, bringing the rifle back up, I realized my mistake. Why the fuck had I thought there’d only be one of them?

  I squeezed the trigger but a powerful hand grabbed the barrel and pushed it off line, sending the shot wide of my target. Another hand grabbed my throat, lifting me off the ground. I struggled, kicking and choking, the world going dark as I came face to face with an alien warrior’s rage.

  4

  Torran

  “Don’t kill her!” The words were out of my mouth before I thought about them, snapped with all the force I could command. Arvid paused, looking around in surprise with the human female dangling from his hand. She thrashed helplessly, her pale face turning purple. Her rifle had fallen to the forest floor, leaving her defenseless.

  “She shot you,” Arvid said, shaking his head and squeezing tighter. Her hands clutched his wrist, pulling futilely.

  I tried to stand, my strength failing me halfway. The pain hadn’t reached me yet, but the icy cold of shock closed around me. Everything felt distant, slow, and focusing was hard — but some deep-seated part of me knew that I had to save the human.

  “If anyone’s going to kill her, it will be me,” I said. Not the best argument, but the only one that came to mind. “She shot me; it’s my right to take revenge.”

  Arvid shrugged and threw the human in my direction. She collapsed where she fell, clutching at her throat and gasping for air.

  “Fair,” Arvid said, picking up her rifle. “You take your revenge, we’ll take the rest of the prey.”

  He vanished into the forest before I had a chance to reply, leaving me staring at the human. She was beautiful, face shining in the moonlight, green eyes flashing as she approached. She wore her hair long, unlike a prytheen female, and I yearned to run a hand through those dark locks.

  If she was the last thing I saw, I’d die happy. A smile spread on my face despite the pain and the cold spreading through me from my wound.

  You’re in shock, I told myself. I ought to want her dead. She’d shot me, missed killing me by a finger-breadth. Even now I might not make it — a gut wound was no easy thing to treat without proper medical technology. If my wound got infected, we’d have to rely on whatever medicine we could claim from the primitive human colony ship.

  Training and tradition called out for revenge, urging me to send
her into the lands of the dead ahead of me. But I knew that I wouldn’t do it, that I couldn’t harm her. The world faded, dimming as blood loss took its toll on me, and all I saw was her.

  She watched me, her eyes wide, fingers twitching. Was she wrestling with the same feelings? Trying to kill me and escape had to be a tempting thought for her, but she didn’t reach for my weapons. Good. If she’d tried, I’d have to defend myself and in my condition I might not be able to do that without hurting her.

  Somewhere in the forest a shot rang out, then another. Human laser weapons followed by human screams. They might outnumber us but Arvid and the others were warriors of the Silver Band. These human colonists wouldn’t stand a chance. I just hoped Arvid didn’t need to kill any of them to capture our prize.

  The female’s gaze darted up at the sounds, and she scrambled back. Before she had the chance to stand and run into the darkness of the forest, I grabbed her wrist.

  “No,” I said in Galtrade, hoping that she spoke the language. Any spacefarer ought to, but these humans were new to the stars. “If you run, they will hunt you down. Kill you. Stay.”

  The strain of moving, of talking, made me shake. Coldness leeched into my bones, and I sat back hard. But I kept my grip on her arm, even as she tried to pull away from me. Sundered Space, must I kill myself to protect her?

  Not that she would be safe if Arvid returned to find me dead and her alive. I grimaced at the thought, struggling to stay conscious as she tried to pull herself free. The world faded into nothing and the last thing I saw before the shadows claimed me was the sparkling green of her eyes.

  Flickers of consciousness followed as I fought against the call of the healing trance. I needed to rest if I was to recover, but I would not let go of the world around me. Could not, until I knew what would happen to her.

  Footsteps crushed fallen leaves underfoot, startling me back to consciousness. The cold, distant pain overwhelmed me, and I gasped in agony. Trying to move was too much; even listening strained my limited reserves of energy.