The Tau Ceti Diversion

by Chris McMahon

  The computer specialist leant forward to the simple console. The screen now showed a schematic of the pod and its systems, highlighted in red and yellow. Most of the software systems were still in the process of being rebuilt, the symbols flashing steadily … slowly. The pod’s radio was still out.

  He knew precisely where the lander was. He was sure Mara would have reached it by now. The tempestuous astronomer irritated Ibri. The opportunity afforded by Karic’s disappearance had been a godsend. Delaying her so that Janzen could reassert his authority over Andrai, simplicity itself. When Starburst reached Earth, Ibri would be rich beyond his dreams, at last rewarded for his talent by someone with the intelligence to recognize it.

  He turned his thoughts to the mass of data that still remained unprocessed on board the lander. It was waiting for him there. He could be working on an analysis with the full power of the lander’s computers at his command, rather than wasting time here. Ibri frowned. As for the pod, he could judge for himself the reboot would run for at least another fourteen hours — one factor he had underestimated.

  He waited for twenty minutes, cramped within the confines of the pod, and that was all the time it took him to make up his mind. He could already anticipate the feel of the lander’s console beneath his fingers. Needing little rest and only four hours of sleep a night, boredom was a constant problem for Ibri.

  Easily shaking off his fatigue, he strapped the XR32 to his waist and sealed the pod. He set off toward the jungle at a solid pace, following dead reckoning.

  He gave the pod a last fleeting look as he left the clearing. There would be plenty of opportunities to retrieve the pod. Once the diagnostic was complete, it could be piloted on remote by the lander’s computer if necessary. Ibri smiled, thinking of Mara’s impetuous behavior.

  Janzen’s plan had worked perfectly.

  ***

  The boughs of the Tree arched majestically overhead. Beneath the tightly woven canopy, the First — the select group of Imbirri who were first raised to sentience by the Awakener — assembled in reverent silence. Sconces flickered along the walls, the lamps within burning an aromatic oil specially distilled from forest plants, which filled the dome with a redolent fragrance. The Awakener sat upon his throne, and Deepwatch Utar, first of the First, stood below the dais.

  Light flashed through the dimness. Utar turned to see Swith run through the Tree’s opening, eyes dark with tension. He was the most senior gold of the Gathered — those Imbirri who had been raised to sentience by the First over the last few thousand seasons. Swith outstripped all the Gathered gold in years of sentience. He knelt at Utar’s feet and waited, not daring to interrupt the ceremony. Outside, the song of the greens and purples stopped abruptly, only to begin again soon after in a chorus of warning and entreaty. Something had disrupted the Gathered at their play.

  The mental bond that had been building for hours between the First and their leaders now rose to a critical threshold in Utar’s mind. Whatever had disturbed Swith would have to wait.

  A great expectation arose among the First. They could sense without knowing the first notes of song begin to swell within the minds of their leaders. The Awakener’s eyes filled with emotion as he surged to his feet, drawing breath from the scented air. Then he sang. The note was pure and long, resounding with familiar nuance. The Awakener came forward from the dais, toward the First, toward Utar. There he uttered the second, perfect note.

  Utar trembled as the notes of the response gathered within him like an irrepressible tide. His eyes met those of the Awakener and the years swam around them like a bursting flood. Utar burst into song, his eyes fixed on those of the Awakener. Immediately, the First followed him, and the canopy above trembled with the voiced harmonies. The Imbirri were empathic, and each could feel the emotions of the others through their song.

  The Awakener was filled with sheer joy.

  Utar could not keep a note of sadness from his voice — he feared for his people — and his senses told him it was already too late to protect them. Even so, he wanted desperately to join with the Awakener — to consummate their love.

  Utar increased the power and emotion of his song, striving to harmonize with the being who had raised him from the dim world of pre-sentience, yet he could not match the Awakener’s joy. Hot yellow tears of sorrow ran from Utar’s nipples, streaked the sides of his torso. He ceased his song and turned from the assembly, torn with grief. He needed the comfort of union, however incomplete it always seemed, and yet he could not join in their joy knowing their days were soon to end.

  The song was reaching a crescendo of passion when a thunderous concussion shook the Tree, its crown engulfed in a fireball. The flames filled the space with an intense burst of light before fading. Ambient light now flooded in through the ragged hole in the canopy. The First cried out in shock and dismay, and the song faltered to silence.

  Utar turned, possessed with sudden anger. His awareness expanded like a titan, swelling beyond the confines of the enclosure. Outside, through his spirit-eyes, he could see two of the alien beings, standing near the punishment pit with weapons of destruction.

  “Violators!” howled Utar. The outburst stunned the First. Swith tumbled to the ground, driven unconscious by the vehement psychic force that accompanied the curse.

  The Awakener strode toward Utar, his face set with fury. A second concussion ripped through the encampment. Through his inner vision, Utar could see the aliens were using their weapons to drive the Imbirri away like animals. A hut of dried reed and wood vanished in an instant, the explosion bursting with a violent power that left nothing in its wake.

  “What is it, Utar?” asked the Awakener, his eyes terrible in their focus.

  Utar withdrew from his spirit-sight and spun toward the Awakener.

  “Humans! They are here! Ready to reclaim their companion and spread their destruction!”

  The Awakener stood silently for a moment, his vision clearing, the sense of purpose within him strengthening.

  Utar stepped forward and grabbed at the Awakener’s arms.

  “Give me the scepter! Let me destroy them! There may still be a chance to save us.”

  The Awakener shook off Utar and moved his immense bulk toward the overlapping branches that concealed the entrance. “Long have I sheltered here, my friend.”

  Utar nodded. The redwings — the vibrant red-winged butterflies of Cru’s forest the Imbirri used to mark the start of a new year — had spawned many hundreds of times since his leader had even stirred from his dais. How the years pass.

  “I would see these beings for myself. Then I will judge them.”

  ***

  “Andrai!” shouted Karic.

  The technician turned. His eyes widening as he saw Janzen with his XR32.

  Janzen quickly changed his aim and fired, his face a twisted mask of frustration. One of the primitive huts exploded with a thudding concussion. Many of the golds, who had hovered at the edge of the clearing, now vanished into the foliage.

  “That’s enough, Janzen! Let’s get Karic and get out of here!” yelled Andrai.

  The leaves of the tree parted and around forty of the bulky beings filed out. Janzen raised his weapon, but hesitated, perhaps sensing something different about this particular group of aliens. He was right. Karic recognized the tall, gold-crowned form of the shaman, Utar, and the imposing bulk of the Imbirri leader behind him, the dark, faded colors of his swollen body strangely ominous.

  Janzen lifted his aim and fired another rocket at the tree, blasting the upper branches. The rocket flared briefly, leaving another small hole in the canopy. Unlike the huts, the living tree did not burn.

  The new group of aliens was spellbound by the sudden impact, but they did not run like the others. Instead, they simply looked up to examine the destruction, then back to Janzen and Andrai. Their huge heads turned in a slow, synchronized movement, their huge dark eyes glowing with outrage as they fixed on the humans.

  Utar sang a high no
te. The red-crowned aliens around the verge of the clearing ceased their eerie song and moved forward to join the group from inside the tree.

  The group of purple-crowned aliens stood and began to walk down the hill toward them, their steps precisely matched, as though they were a single organism. Their concentration was total. Their lack of fear was a startling contrast to the other Imbirri who had run from the camp, and Karic guessed the purple coloration was more than just pigmentation, it must denote some specific caste within Imbirri society.

  All the Imbirri grew closer, inexorably closer, moving across the thick grass in menacing silence. Their sheer size, the power in those frames …

  “Goddamn it!” yelled Karic. “Just get me out of here! There is still time. Get the cover off!”

  But Janzen was frozen, his eyes grown wide and white with fear.

  “We have to stop them!” muttered Janzen. “Stop them! Stop them!”

  Andrai fired, targeting a nearby hut. The explosion snapped Janzen out of his rigid terror, but did nothing to slow the aliens. Clearly, this new group were not going to be scared off by warning shots.

  The physical presence of the enormous beings triggered some primal response in Karic. He could feel it, squirming in his guts. The sense of confinement in the pit was overwhelming. He was desperate to be free.

  “Target them!” yelled Janzen.

  Janzen and Andrai fired together. The tiny rockets sped through the intervening space. Janzen’s missile struck an Imbirri in front of Utar. One moment the hulking creature with its vivid green crown and multicolored body was standing with the others, the next it had disappeared in a violent explosion, splattering dark yellow blood and red tissue across the green grass. Andrai’s rocket failed to explode, piercing a gold-crowned alien with an odd green mark on its golden forehead and continuing through its bulky body to strike a green-crowned Imbirri in the shoulder. The projectile flew on to detonate in the surrounding jungle. With a dissonant howl, the second alien fell to the earth, mortally wounded, clutching a gaping chest wound. Its screams of pain were quickly echoed by the third Imbirri, who ran for the jungle. An Imbirri with vivid green across its crown and torso ran forward and knelt by the fallen alien, wailing in a high-pitched screech as he tried to stem the flow of bright yellow ichor from the ragged hole in the fallen Imbirri’s torso.

  The tall red-crowned aliens closed ranks. They began to issue their strange, dissonant drone, eyes pulsing red.

  The purple-crowned aliens rushed forward to examine the remains of the dead Imbirri and the mortally wounded one. Then they cooed softly to each other and spoke in a short, rapid tones as they shared their observations, leaning forward to take in every conceivable detail from various angles with their protuberant, multi-faceted eyes. They drew back to a respectful distance as the leader of the aliens and the shaman, Utar — distinctive with his skins and decorations — came forward to stand over the fallen.

  At first both Utar and the Imbirri’s colossal leader stood in loose-limbed silence, their lidless eyes focused on the carnage, as though trying to make sense of it. Then the leader began to tremble, the great folds of loose skin shuffling against each other. He spoke rapidly with Utar in alternating tones so close to each other the overall effect was a harsh dissonance that made the skin rise on the back of Karic’s neck. The leader made savage motions with this thick arms. When he turned back toward Janzen and Andrai, his eyes were alive with a rapidly pulsing luminescence that invoked the same instinctive alarm in Karic as a brightly colored viper.

  Karic watched as the leader raised his arm. Now he could see the sleek, metallic scepter clutched in his hand. One thick finger made an adjustment to the weapon while another moved toward the activating stud on the shaft.

  Then Mara burst through the trees above the camp.

  “Janzen! Andrai! Look out, it’s an energy weapon!” she shouted.

  Her XR32 was sheathed at her side.

  “No, Mara! Run!” called Karic. “All of you, run!”

  Janzen barely had time to turn before the discharge of the weapon caught them. Blue tendrils whipped across the space. The alien leader had aimed directly for Janzen and Andrai, yet had been distracted by the appearance of Mara. The main force of the discharge struck between them, sweeping past like a sudden wind into the surrounding jungle; yet the blue corona that surrounded the discharge trapped all three of them.

  Mara screamed then fell. Janzen and Andrai were thrown to the ground, the weapons flying from their grasp.

  “No! No!”

  Janzen struggled up from the ground.

  “Janzen! Help them!” yelled Karic.

  Janzen snatched up his XR32 and ran for the jungle, leaving the others behind. Andrai was stunned for a moment, but also struggled to his feet. Mara’s limp form was unmoving, sprawled on the grass. Andrai ran toward her, leaving his weapon behind. Karic knew there was no way Andrai could escape burdened by her unconscious body — especially in this heavy gravity.

  “No, Andrai! Run!” yelled Karic.

  Andrai froze, motionless for a long moment of agonizing indecision, then ran after Janzen.

  The second blast of the scepter scorched the grass where Andrai had stood only moments before. Karic watched them as they ran for their lives, their limbs pumping as they sprinted for the forest. On the verges of the camp, the edge of the beam swept past them again, sending Janzen flying to the ground. Andrai paused to help him up, and with his help, Janzen once more found his feet and raced into the safety of the surrounding forest. The tall red-crowned Imbirri ambled after them, but at a high tone from Utar they broke off their pursuit and returned to camp.

  “Damn you, Janzen. Damn you!” Karic pounded his fist on the solid bars of the cage. First Evelle, now Mara. If she died … nothing could save Janzen.

  The Imbirri swarmed around Mara. “No!” He feared the pressing weight of their bodies, the terrible damage their physical retribution could deliver to her fragile frame. His breathing stopped, trapped in the rigid cage of his chest. He did not want to see, yet could not look away. The aliens boiled around her, bodies in motion, limbs moving. He heard their soft melodic speech and blinked as two of the big aliens straightened, bearing the limp body of Mara between them. Utar reached to her wrist and stripped off her comband. He had also taken Karic’s before he was imprisoned. For a simple people they were very thorough where technology was concerned.

  Karic started to breathe again.

  Under the direction of Utar, the two aliens carried Mara toward the cage. Four others ran to the pit ahead of them and bent to grip the cage in their big, fleshy hands. The lattice cover lifted away from the pit. Then Mara was dumped roughly into the mud.

  Karic ran to her. There were no burns, but she was not breathing. He checked her pulse. Nothing.

  The scepter. Its discharge was electrical. Of course. It stopped her heart.

  Karic’s anxiety vanished as his training took over. He quickly checked her airway was free, then started on cardiopulmonary resuscitation and mouth-to-mouth, he pumped fast, counting compressions. Thirty. Now two breaths. He watched her chest rise and fall with each breath, then continued the compressions. One minute stretched into two, then three. His breathing was ragged. Sweat stung his eyes, but he had no time to wipe it away. At eight minutes, his arms and back were burning from the effort, but he refused to give up. The memory of trying to revive Evelle in the lander rose into his mind as sharp as shattered glass. He pushed it away. He refused to accept that Mara would die here in the mud after everything they had been through. As he entered the tenth minute, he realized he was reaching the limits of his endurance. He could not keep up this pace much longer. The CPR routine was punishing for a single person.

  Then, miraculously, she gasped in a breath. Her back arched, then she slumped back onto the ground.

  “Mara. Mara!”

  Karic shook her, but got no response. She was breathing, her pulse weak, but steady. He sank back onto his heels. Mara had laps
ed into a coma, but she was alive. For now. She needed medical attention. The drugs and diagnostic equipment on the lander. He might as well wish for a magic carpet to take him back to the Starburst’s medical bay.

  “Please God, let her live.”

  CHAPTER 10

  Karic looked up at the bars of the cage for the hundredth time, the pale wooden poles — thicker than his arm — weathered and discolored by age, yet rock-hard. Trapped. He had been so unprepared for this. How could he have expected intelligent aliens? They had not even expected life here! The dark side was supposed to be a frigid ice-desert. The thought of Janzen free on the surface while he was forced to sit here in the mud was almost more than he could stand.

  Karic looked over to the other side of the pit, where Mara still lay unconscious. He clenched his jaw in frustration, unable to do more than watch her until she woke — if she woke.

  He should be the one on the outside, leading these people. Janzen was going to get them all killed. At least I have finally seen his true colors, the treacherous bastard.

  Karic had been imprisoned for over a day now, although time was difficult to judge. The aliens had given Karic and Mara water and a variety of nuts, berries and shoots. He dared not touch the food, but he had risked the water, which was cool and clear. The heavy gravity, the lack of food, and the burn on his arm, were beginning to take their toll on him.

  The cage stank with mud and excrement and the air was infested with thousands of insects. Mites, biting flies and bizarre multi-jointed insects of every color, most of which had a penchant for crawling into bodily orifices, swarmed through the pit.

  Karic stood. He shook the bars and shouted. The aliens ignored him.

  “Conserve your strength, Karic,” he told himself. You will get out of here.

  He walked over to where Mara lay prostrate along one wall of the pit. He had stripped off his jacket and bundled it under her head as a makeshift pillow. He knelt beside her and gently brushed a bright yellow beetle off her cheek. The humidity was intense and she was drenched in sweat. Karic picked up a bowl of water and a cloth, torn from the lower hem of his uniform shirt, and began to bathe her face and arms.