A Bellicose Dance

by Patrick M J Lozon

  “Let us go ya fucker!” he yelled. In a flash of intuition, he hit the searchlights. The thing screamed with such intensity it hurt his ears. Then it was gone, lost to the darkness of the jungle.

  The rover had traction – and it was bouncing ahead at full speed.

  “Where did it go?” he yelled.

  “It’s there, behind us. It’s playing with us,” added Bosn. “Check the scanner.”

  The bright yellow signature was pasted onto the outer edge of the display.

  “No, it working up courage.”

  And then it launched.

  The road ahead wound like a snake. Ryan fought with the controls, attempting to outrun the thing without ditching.

  It was gaining – what the hell is this thing?

  Alarms started ringing crazily. Forward scanner displays were painted red in every direction.

  Tar pit dead ahead! Shit!

  He locked up the left drivetrain and diverted everything to the right. The left wheels dug into the road as the rover skewered sideways, and the right ones sprayed up fountains of blackened soil. The rover slid to a stop with half of its wheels dipped into a lake of boiling tar.

  Another quick glance at the monitor revealed the blip almost on top of them. He wound the motors out and dropped it in reverse. Geysers of black tar shot upward in a black rain as the tires fought for traction. A desperate second passed, painfully extending itself into another. Wheels caught. The rover leapt back, just in time. A dark blur screamed past to hit the lake of boiling tar with a deadened splash. White teeth and glaring eyes disappeared into the overpowering black ooze. The thing bellowed and screamed as it sank.

  Ryan straightened out the rover and bolted ahead down the path. His heart pounding in his ears, and his hands shaking visibly.

  “That too close.”

  Bosn was laughing and coughing, then laughing again. “You, Earthman, are lucky.”

  Ryan joined him. Both of them laughing like madmen as they drove through a dark, murky hell.

  The terrain slowly improved, evolving to a hard-packed surface, straight with little overgrowth. They’d left the tar pits far behind, the jungle again, encroached around them. Trees seemed larger in size than ever before, truly gargantuan, stretching at least a full kilometer into the sky. A hint of sunlight peeked through the web-like canopy.

  Bosn had faded back into a deep sleep. His condition was worsening, not improving. His legs had blackened and showed signs of gangrene.

  In all respects, he should have been dead by now, Ryan knew that. The shots had just bought him time.

  “Bosn, you hear me? Bosn.”

  The Signite tilted his head and opened his eyes a crack.

  “Barely, friend. My time is growing close. Don’t waste your breath with some hopeful wisecrack.”

  Ryan nodded, admitting as much to himself as to his friend. “Was a good run.”

  Bosn smiled feebly. “You tried. I was done the moment I was hit – we both know that. Besides, where are we really headed anyway?”

  Ryan pointed out the viewscreen. “Down this road.”

  “Yes, Earthman of many words, to somewhere, probably ending up as a snack for one of those critters out there. No, I’m better off than you. I know my time is almost up.”

  Ryan smiled back. “Us should be dead long, long time now.”

  Bosn shifted and winced in pain. “Any more of those needles left?”

  Ryan just focused on the road, making sure the wheels didn’t travel too far off the narrow path.

  “Right, my luck.”

  Packed sand gave way to a finely defined matrix of brickwork. Where the road had once circumvented trees, it now ran straight, tunneling right through the monstrous plants, their insides cut so smooth they seemed polished. Ryan raised their speed and the kilometers burned away behind them.

  Darkness had settled upon them. The rover’s lights cut through the hazy air, just enough to reflect back the image of something very large down the road. The scanner lit up in bright red, dousing the cabin in an eerie glow. Ryan shifted down, locking the brakes. The rover came to a stop.

  Bosn shifted awake, moaning in pain, then coughing wildly. “Can’t you keep this machine running straight? I’d prefer my last moments to be in peace.”

  “Look. Things now changed.”

  Ahead lay a monolithic wall of perfectly fitted stone, the wall's height and width were indeterminable, as visibility quickly degraded due to the persistent greenish-white fog, and the dense overgrowth of jungle. Lichen and vines covered the wall, revealing the great age of the stone structure.

  The road led to a tunnel that stretched far into the wall – a dark, ominous entry leading into the unknown. The arched entrance had etched carvings of strange shapes, creatures with hideous eyes that looked down with disdain upon anyone who was foolish enough to enter.

  “These carvings don’t mean a damn thing to me,” offered Bosn. “I take it as a good sign – a way to get out of this forsaken jungle. Tell you the truth, I’ll never understate your luck, Earthman.

  “Not luck. The Kalmakans told me. It is the Chaoi of Aelome.”

  “Chaoi of what?” questioned Bosn.

  “Our way out.”

  “I never met your sources, Ryan, but it sounds good enough to me. No use sitting here, let’s get moving!” urged Bosn.

  Ryan took the cue and edged the rover ahead, simultaneously guiding its searchlights to sweep down the tunnel’s length.

  Nothing seemed to be waiting there to pounce.

  He raised a gear and they picked up speed. Bare walls began to poke through between encrusted vines, which quickly thinned as they moved away from the entrance. Abruptly, the tunnel ended, opening up to an amphitheater-sized cavern. He pulled the rover to a stop and rotated the searchlights a full 360 degrees. From here, three other tunnels branched out, their entrances closely resembling that of the first at the jungle's edge.

  Strange. Such a place should be very attractive to jungle life. But there was nothing that resembled anything living to mention.

  The walls and the floor were bare, empty, nothing but carved and polished stone, but with one exception. He focused the lights upon hieroglyphic etchings above each of the three entrances. The first image was very complex, presenting hundreds of different beings, many holding sophisticated looking tools.

  The second etching was plain in contrast, bearing the images of five lizard-like faces.

  The third was the most impressive. Symbols lined the whole outer edge of the archway. They resembled, possibly, an alphabetical or numerical system. A detailed pictorial lay above the apex of the arch. A large oval shape with lines jutting downward into a triangle. Images of small creatures seemed to be performing strange dances at its base. Above the oval shape were, unmistakably, stars carved in precise locations out of the stone.

  Had these constellations changed much since this was made? No way of knowing.

  A simple oval shape drew his attention, just as it seemed to draw the gaze of the beings depicted in stone.

  He looked over at Bosn. The Signite was fighting to stay conscious.

  “Three choices. This one promising.”

  “Go with your gut, Ryan. I don’t think I’m going to be much help.”

  He nodded, then shifted the machine into gear. The rover shuddered as he brought it up to a steady, cautious speed into the third tunnel. They descended at a gradual slope. In the first hour, they must have passed through the planet’s water table, yet there was not a hint of moisture on the walls. If anything, the tunnel was bone dry. The rover's tires left imprints in the thin layer of dust on the floor. Endless walls of polished brown met a floor of black granite, glass-smooth to the finish. It was close to the end of the second hour when they finally rolled to a stop. Ahead lay a massive, half-open door made of the same brown granite. It was drawn up into the ceiling, suspended by some unknown means. Ryan edged the rover ahead, passing just under the bottom edge. The sound of scraping of me
tal echoed down the hall.

  Very close.

  He was through in a moment, but not without envisioning the three meter thick, multi-tonne door crashing down upon them. With a sigh, he shifted gears and accelerated. The walls were now a sharp white replacing the somber brown. Two embedded lines of silver and gold, each about a meter thick and just as high, ran parallel with the floor. The rover’s lights bounced off the shining veins in a shimmering brilliance.

  Another kilometer and they arrived at another door, similar to the previous one in its sheer size, but made of marbled black and green granite. Inlaid within the center of it, about three meters up from the floor, was a recessed image in gold, a head of a creature that resembled a deer. It had antlers that stretched from wall to wall and three red, glowing eyes the size of tennis balls within its center. Ryan studied it for a time, knowing there must be a way to trigger the door to raise.

  Bosn had long since faded, breath short and raspy.

  He had to have a closer look. Best to leave him rest.

  He killed the engine. Its rumbling died to a wary silence. With a spent fuel rod in hand, he climbed up the ladder to the top deck. Taking a deep breath, he threw open the hatch and waited. He could hear the metallic clang echo down the corridor. His fear of something jumping in at him subsided with the fading echoes.

  Too active an imagination.

  Fresh, sweet air rolled in, free of sulfur, untainted. He climbed onto the upper deck, inspecting it carefully. It was covered with swamp muck and plant remains. Huge gouges peeked through uncovered areas. Metal was melted where cannon blasts had hit. The center capacitor had been blown to bits, and the jury-rigged plasma drill lay on its side, still attached to its bent and twisted mounting latches. He found himself staring down at the wrecked capacitor, its fuel canister now missing.

  Why the hell did he have to get hit?

  He kicked the capacitor, cursing to himself. A yellow cylinder, wedged under a split in the rover's skin and half buried in the muck, caught his eye. He reached under and yanked it out.

  The last remaining fuel canister. He had a weapon.

  Being cautious not to gouge himself on the ragged edges, he pried the plasma drill loose. Once free, he gave it a full inspection.

  It looked alright, but would it fire?

  The canister screwed on easily. He pointed the weapon down the tunnel and squeezed the trigger. The plasma bolt leapt out and dissipated at about 20 meters, leaving a strong odor of ozone.

  That would do.

  He checked the damage at the rear of the deck, found the camera hanging, and attempted to reattach it to its mount. The small device clicked in and a green light blinked on briefly. With any luck at least one of the rear monitors would work.

  For extra measure, he manually swung the searchlight back the way he had come and flicked it on. The powerful beam illuminated hundreds of meters behind the rover.

  Nothing. Nothing but bare walls ending in darkness. Silence was prominent here, and any sound made was amplified with complete clarity. It was strangely comforting.

  With a renewed amount of confidence, weapon slung on his back, metal rod in hand, he mounted the ladder and made his way down. He expected the glossy floor to be slippery - it wasn't. It was actually sticky, like ice at 40 below. The mirror finish was deceptive.

  The statuette head stared down at him menacingly. He grabbed the fuel rod and tapped at the figure, then pushed up on one side then the other to see if it would turn. It wouldn't.

  He stepped back and contemplated.

  Of course. The eyes. So prominent they had to have a purpose.

  Using the rod, he pushed in on the middle eye. The glistening button slid back easily. A moment later, a low rumble sounded and dust stirred up from unseen crevices. Ryan backed up, wary of what was to happen next. With a bellowing groan, the huge granite door began to slide up into the ceiling.

  He ran back to the rover and fired up the engine. The door had reached the top and it was now starting to cycle closed. He mentally calculated the rate of movement.

  There was enough time.

  He gunned the engine and raced through. Once clear he slammed the brakes. He watched the gigantic door seal shut behind him through the working rear monitor.

  A quick inspection of his surroundings revealed the tunnel had changed yet again. The walls were white and the ceiling reflected a rich gold. A thin layer of dust discolored a white floor into a trace of gray. As before, as far as the rover's lights could reach, the great corridor remained empty.

  How much farther would this go? What would he find there?

  He checked the rover’s instruments. The fuel rods were almost spent. They didn’t have much time left before they would have to abandon the vehicle and continue on foot. He’d have to hobble together a gurney.

  Tentatively he put the vehicle back into motion, multiple kilometers passed by before the rover’s fuel reserve indicator started an alarm. A click of the switch quieted it. They were running on proverbial fumes now.

  Another door appeared in the floodlights. As prior, a large icon hung menacingly on the door with similar jeweled eyes. He moved the rover close enough so he needn’t bother to dismount, and was able to reach over from the upper deck to depress the eye. As the door rose, an immense cavern was revealed beyond.

  Perhaps they’ve finally reached their destination.

  He wasted no time driving through, anxious to discover what lay ahead, but then quickly coasted to a stop. The door closed with a solid thud, echoing loudly as the sound traveled outward into an immense cavern.

  This was the end of the line.

  The room was at least a kilometer square with four walls that sloped upward to a point, opening up to a sliver of sky. Sunlight streamed downward in a tight beam, illuminating the expansive plain ahead. It radiated off a large, unmistakable object in the center - a pyramid, brilliant white, jutting upward at least 500 meters.

  A pyramid inside a pyramid.

  On each corner of the inner pyramid, a river flowed outward cutting through the plain in a straight line, fanning out to meet and disappear, under the outside corner of each wall. The quiet was now lost in the background noise of racing water.

  His eyes were drawn upward. A vertical line traced to its very peak. It was a mammoth stairway, with thousands upon thousands of carved steps. An ascension to a plateau bathed in sunlight, upon which something glinted with a metallic luster.

  Putting the rover back into gear he crossed the plain, approaching the base of the staircase. The object far above had captured his curiosity.

  Whatever it was, the thing had to be large, considering his perspective. But what was it? His heart gave a small jump. A spaceship? No. Something else, probably. But the hieroglyphics on the entrance way - that was why he chose this way in the first place.

  Maybe.

  He parked the rover at the base of the stairs and shut all systems down, save the lights, which he focused onto the pyramid.

  “Bosn, Bosn. Wake up. You need see this. ” He shook his shoulder, but the Signite did not respond. He grabbed a bottle and poured it over Bosn’s head and face.

  “Wake up damn you!”

  The man sputtered slightly and cracked open his eyes. “Ah, yes. I’m still here. And I had my hopes up. You trying to drown me?” He coughed and gave a half-smile.

  “Look up. I think we found the way out,” urged Ryan.

  His eyes rolled upward, assessing the pyramid slowly, and smiled. “Ah, and what is that glinting atop this engineered behemoth? Is that your Chaoi of whatever? I think your time is coming, old friend, and so, unfortunately, is mine.”

  “Time?”

  “Time for you to get back home, and time for me to rest.”

  “Come on, Bosn. We can do this together.” Ryan reached over to pull him out of the chair, it was impulsive, he didn’t really think it through.

  Bosn screamed in agony and nearly passed out. Ryan eased him back down as gently as possible.


  “I am sorry, my friend. I should have thought.”

  It took a minute for Bosn to recover. He responded in a whisper. “No, it’s alright. Not this time. This time we part ways.”

  Ryan nodded, acknowledging the inevitable. “I’ll stay, then, until…”

  “No. I don’t need you here. It’s alright. I like the peace.” His words were soft, barely a whisper.

  “No, I wait.”

  Bosn shook his head weakly. “Friend to the end then, Earthman.”

  “To the end.”

  Ryan grabbed his hand. The Signite closed his eyes, a peaceful look coming across his features. “Time’s close now. I will see my Sharanoa,” he whispered.

  They sat there for a time, bathed in the soft hue of the console lights, listening to the waters of the flowing rivers. Eventually, the Signite’s powerful grip softened, and he was gone, leaving life with a soft sigh.

  “I will see you on the other side, my friend.”

  Ryan pulled his supplies together using the storage sacks Bosn had used to haul the fuel canisters. He found a small light, which he strapped to the barrel of the plasma drill, then repacked everything. He balanced the load on each end of a spent fuel rod and hoisted them onto his shoulder. He exited the cabin through the lower hatch, one hand balancing his supplies, the other holding the plasma drill.

  He didn’t look back.

  Approaching the stairs, he craned his neck and peered upwards. The peak was at least 500 meters above.

  He was not looking forward to the climb. A fall from that high would be fatal. Was he up to it? Was there another way?

  He surveyed the surrounding area, noticed the section of the floor made distinct by its green marble color and swirling patterns inscribed upon its surface. The section butted up to the base of the pyramid, pointing outwards in the form of a large triangle. A channel was notched into the pyramid at the center of the triangle where it met, and this channel ran upward, parallel with the stairs.

  An elevator, possibly? Whoever built this monstrosity could surely have the technology to construct a simple elevation device.

  He walked over and knelt down at its edge, noticing the thin fissure between the startling white and dark green. As his weight settled on its surface, a movement caught his eye. A crystalline post rose out of the floor with a soft hush. He pulled his finger away from the trigger of his plasma gun. He had, almost by instinct, blasted it away.