by Chris Hechtl
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“Damn that's impressive.” Ryans said, looking at the gas giant rising over the horizon. It was a gorgeous thing, bands of green, gold and orange shimmering in the atmosphere. He shook his head in wonder. “I'm betting Doc McAngus is going to shit a brick when he sees that,” he observed and grinned. McAngus had missed the bus and was probably a little put out about it.
“Yeah think?” Lewis commented as she shaded her eyes with one hand to look at the giant planet. “We're in a binary star system, on a planet orbiting a gas giant with loads of other moons and stuff around, and not a clue where we are. Yeah, I think he's not going to be happy about missing the bus.”
Ryans checked his phone. “From what I can tell, we've got a twenty-two hour day. It's not bad,” Ryans said.
“Yeah, but the rest of the orbital mechanics will be fun to figure out,” Lewis replied waving to the sky. “Are we in perigee or apogee? What season is this? We're obviously in a one Gee field, or there about. Close enough so we can't really tell the difference.” She bounced up and down a few times.
“Spoilsport,” Ryans grunted.
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Doc wandered over to the knot of people standing around. Apparently the patrol was in, from the look on the Master Sergeant's face something was up. She came closer, listening in as the Master Sergeant made his report to Perry and Ryans.
“Humans?” Sue echoed in stunned disbelief. The rest of the crew began to babble. Ryans held up his hands as those within earshot immediately stopped what they were doing to come over. Some immediately started voicing denials.
“Just a minute folks lets hear what the Sergeant has to say,” he said. He turned to the Sergeant as the babble died away. The Sergeant had a deadpan expression on his face. “Continue please Sergeant.”
The Master Sergeant raised an eyebrow to Perry who nodded. He cleared his throat and then continued. “All right, we were checking along the coast looking for a water source or animals or more vegetation and spotted a group of people running hell for leather toward the mountain pass.” He pointed in the indicated direction. “The morning fog was thinning out so we hit the deck and watched them pass. But they weren't alone.”
He grimaced. “A bunch of riders on some funky six limbed critters came out of the fog and cut the rearmost down with bows. It was nasty, no quarter,” he said grimly as he shook his head. “The others further away took one look and beat feet, dropping gear and anything slowing them down. They headed off to that narrow trail up there.” He pointed to the hillside. “One guy charged the raiders and targeted the alien mounts. He cut down about seven before they killed him. The riders took off the way they came.”
“In other words, we've got to move,” Ryans said thoughtfully nodding, eyes grim.
“Why?” Nate asked. “Not that I'm complaining or anything, but surely they aren't hostile.” The Sergeant gave him a mixed look of exasperation and tried patience. “I mean to us,” Nate hastily said.
“From their reaction to unarmed people...” Perry said.
“Still we should find out,” Sue began.
“Later,” Ryans said getting up. “From their reaction to those unarmed people I'm not in any great hurry to walk up and say hi.”
“You don't want to make first contact?” she asked surprised.
He looked at her in surprise. “You do?” He waved to the ocean. “I for one want to have more than that horn behind us if it goes bad. It's impassible, all rocky. We can't retreat. There is absolutely no cover here, so it's dead easy to see us and it's not very defensible. I want an avenue of retreat, and access to fresh water. I don't want to be trapped if they have friends.” Perry nodded in appreciation. What Ryans said made sense to him as well.
“We can take them on...” Lewis said stubbornly.
“For how long?” Perry asked giving the Corporal a look. He was surprised to be on Ryan’s side. The smart thing was to avoid contact and gather intel before trying to do something. “Ammo will hold out for only so long Corporal, when it's gone it's gone. I don't know about you, but I'd rather get ahead of those raiders and stay ahead of them until we find out more about them and just how many there are,” he said firmly. Some of the others nodded, namely the combat veterans. Waters knew from experience, he'd been in both Iraq wars and had heard shit about people biting off more than they could chew. He for one wanted to know just what they were dealing with.
“This isn't a democracy, no matter what people think. I'm in charge,” Ryans said giving them all a stern look. “We're wasting time.” He turned to Perry. “Lieutenant, detail your men as you see fit for security. Everyone else, start packing. Fast people. I want to be out of here in two hours if not sooner.”
Max rubbed his knuckles. “What do we do with the excess gear we can't carry?” he rumbled. He'd spent the better part of the morning getting that busted tail hitch fixed and sorting out the vehicles with Scooter.
Ryans scowled. “We'll take what we can. Sort it out. If we can, we'll get the buggies to run back and forth with the trailers. Something tells me we're on a limited time crunch though. Find a ditch. You may want to bury what we can't carry.” Max nodded and moved off at a trot.
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The raider leader, Thorvald reported in. He bowed politely to King Art’ur, aware his life was on the line for his failure. He smarted, angry that he was put in such a position by a lowly peasant. He'd lost a third of his branacks and had to confiscate another from a knight to ride. Since he had been tasked with not over extending his animals and the enemy had taken to the foot trails he'd abandoned the chase to return to report.
Now he regretted that decision. Here he had to listen to the whelp's wrath and smart under his rage like a dog.
“I believe you were ordered to kill the refugees to prevent them from warning the wall?” the new king asked mildly, fingers drumming on the pommel of his sword. He was tall, not fully grown but well-muscled like most of his men. Years of hard living in the North and constant practicing for war had done that. His brown hair was braided in the back but kept short to better fit under his helmet.
“I... Majesty forgive me please. We were delayed,” Thorvald ground out. He realized now what the refugees had intended. They had been cunning in their sacrifices.
“Delayed? Delayed?” Art’ur snarled, kicking Thorvald away and pacing in a circle as the bigger, older man righted himself. “Delayed?” Art’ur said throwing his gauntleted hands up in disgust. “By peasants, with what? Sticks?” he snarled turning on his scout commander.
“Hunting spears and arrows Majesty. They used fire to throw my branack charge in the hill encounter and then later a lone warrior struck at my beasts as we were about to cut them down,” Thorvald ground out.
“How many? How many did you lose?” Art’ur's eyes glinted as this news penetrated his ire. Thorvald stuttered out an answer. The new young king was pissed that he had lost so many animals and hadn't captured any replacements or gathered much food. The general of the Duluthian army rode up and got down from his branack and thrust its reins to a hapless page. The boy could barely keep the unruly beast in check as he led it off.
Thorvald pointed out that he did capture the bridge. “But you let the enemy get away to warn the wall!” the general thundered, old craggy face red in rage. His once fire red beard was streaked with the gray of age. He was losing muscle mass, no longer the brute he once was. He traded strength for wisdom, or so he thought.
“They didn't go to the wall, they headed up a small trail that my branack couldn't follow father,” Thorvald said bowing to his father.
“Ah, indeed, perhaps they won't get to the wall in time then?” the new king murmured rubbing his stubble covered chin. He had yet to get his full beard growth, a point of ire he had. The subtle reminder that Thorvald was the general's son wasn't lost on him. He needed the general, needed his wisdom, counsel, and his support. Needed it badly to keep the other Dominuses and knights in li
ne until he cemented his own control. His father had died only five short months ago, not long enough to gain the trust and respect of the other Dominuses and lordlings.
“If we move fast your Majesty,” the general suggested, turning, one hand on the pommel of his war ax. “If we can get to them before they light the fires and warn Emroy...” he said, eyes thoughtfully turning to the army.
They had numbers; every able bodied man and woman had been called up for this great endeavor. With luck the gods would favor their bold move with much booty. If King Andreas was wise he would sue for peace and give them the food and materials they needed.
The last harvest had been bad; the long winter had been terrible. Many of the old and young had died. The winter had lasted longer than they had predicted and spring had sprung late, extending the misery.
The old wise King Richard had died in the winter leaving his stripling of a son in control. Art’ur had trained with Thorvald, they were like brothers but now his newly elevated status made him forget such things. He had yet to grow into the role of king and wanted to make a name for himself in the only true way a great noble of Duluth should, with blood and battle steel!
Art’ur nodded. “Yes, yes indeed. We must be within and beyond the border before dawn tomorrow. Move! Thorvald gather a handful of branack and move like lightning! I want you to find a trail up around the wall...” Thorvald and the general leaned close to hear their king and his plan.
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The newly arrived Terrans packed up in a rush, they had no idea how long it would be before the natives discovered them. They had two hummers, 1 engineering vehicle, 1 pumper vehicle, some desert LAV buggies, seven ma deuce supply trucks, four Stryker troop transports, one fuel tanker, three flatbeds loaded with equipment and construction vehicles, 1 hummer ambulance, and the civilian vehicles. Each vehicle had a medium or large trailer filled with goods and equipment or water and fuel tanks.
Master Sergeant Waters asked why they couldn’t go back to Earth, but Lieutenant Perry reminded him the portal was closed for a year. “Besides, I think it's a bit far out for us to get to you know?” Perry said pointing to the distant shimmering, about a half mile from the edge of the cliff. Waters nodded in grim agreement. They double timed for the vehicles just as the sun peeked out from the eastern clouds.
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“What do we do with this?” Lewis grunted. “Fucking paperweight,” she grunted. “Where's a forklift when we need one huh?” she griped. There were two forklifts attached to the back of the flatbeds but they were useless in the hills of course. The flatbeds had been dropped with their loads in a narrow ravine and then camouflaged. The trucks had pulled off to join the rest of the convoy.
“Shut up and lift Lewis,” the Gunny said. “And be careful with that. It's the reactor.”
“Reactor!” she said looking up and nearly dropping her end. “No one said anything about radiation!” Her eyes were wide, she was backing away fast.
“Cause there isn't any dummy,” the Gunny sighed. “It's an RWG. Same thing we use for a lot of stuff. They pulled that one off the NASA shelf and air lifted it to us just before we left. It'll power the base if this green shit doesn't pan out.”
“Ah,” she grunted turning and calming down. She finally spotted the yellow and black radiation symbol, “Great so much for having kids,” she muttered.
“Lewis...” the Gunny started to say, losing patience.
“I'm going, I'm going,” she grumbled moving forward.
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They managed to get everything and everyone off the horn and to the mountain pass. Perry detailed scouts out ahead of the convoy to find a way through the pass without going along the trail. “No sense getting caught if they don't have to.” One of them found a narrow ravine off in a cleft of rocks. Rock spurs overshadowed it, making it impossible to see from the trail below. They stashed the excess gear there.
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“OW!” Shiller jerked her hand back, looking at it. Lewis looked at her and then shook her head.
“What? Drop a rock on your toe? Move it Shiller, we've got work to do. We've got to get this stash buried and our asses out of the area, pronto,” the Gunny snarled. He was tired, and his back was killing him but he wasn't about to quit.
“Something bit me sarge,” she said shaking her hand and then swooned. “Ah, I don't feel...” She toppled over and started to shake.
The Gunny froze, seeing the woman go down. They seriously didn't need... ah shit, he thought, realizing something was seriously wrong. “Shiller? No time for this crap Marine!” The Gunny rushed past Lewis and to Shiller's side.
“What happened?” he demanded checking her vitals. “Shit, she's flat lining,” he cursed. So much for it being stress or heat related. “MEDIC!” he bellowed.
“She said something bit her Gunny!” Lewis stammered suddenly alarmed.
“Ah, fuck me,” The Gunny said checking the girl.
“Right hand. She stuck it under that rock to pick it up,” Lewis said pointing as the Gunny tore at the girl's clothes to do CPR. The Gunny looked at the hand. The veins in it were standing out and the whole thing was purple.
“Right into a creepy crawler’s nest no doubt,” the Gunny snarled. “Goes to show sticking your hand in a dark crevice is not a good idea.” He touched his throat mike. “Medic! I need Doc and a crash cart here yesterday!”
“What's the problem Gunny?” Galloway instantly answered. Took him long enough.
“Shiller's down, bite to her right hand. Flesh is swollen and purple. She's got a thready pulse, barely breathing. Either she's got an allergic reaction or its poison. My money's on poison,” he said clinically and then grimaced. He looked up to the wide eyed Lewis who was standing there staring. “Lewis get a crow bar, find that damn critter and kill it. Get the body to that biologist egghead.”
“Nate.”
“Whatever. Maybe he can whip up an antivenin.” He checked the girl’s pupils. “Pupils are dilated and fixed. She's flat lining fast, come on people MOVE! GET THE LEAD OUT!” he called.
“Here!” Fairfax charged up the slope, tossing a bag at the Gunny's side when he slipped. “Adrenalin is in the outer most pocket left side!” he said as he slipped and went down in a shower of gravel.
“Got it,” The Gunny's hands flashed as he set up the instruments to monitor the girl's vitals. He grimaced as they cascaded downward. Her heart rate was barely there.
“Heart is fibrilating!” He reached for the adrenalin.
“Defib paddles.” Fairfax's hands flashed, pulling them out. “Clear!” The Gunny yanked his hands back as the medic ripped the girl’s uniform all the way open and stuck the paddles on.
“Charging... Stand clear. Fire,” the computer said.
The girl's body jerked. “Nothin',” Fairfax said shaking his head.
“Patient has no pulse,” the computer said.
“Well try again!” The Gunny said urgently. “Don't you die on me soldier!” He ordered, knowing it was futile.
“Fuck me,” Lewis muttered savagely as she banged the crowbar into the crevice. She heard something scuttling. “Ah ha,” she said. “Got a live one here,” she said looking over her shoulder.
“Lewis look out!” Galloway said. She turned to see an arthropod come hissing out of the crevice. It was black, with yellow tipped spines and long waving antenna. Its head was broad and flat, its entire body shaped like a cobra but with the flat overlapping scales of its kind.
“Sum-bitch!” Lewis said jerking away as it fell out of the crevice and reared up at her. It hissed then turned and snake crawled away.
“Get it! Kill it!” Galloway urged. He slammed a rifle butt down pinning it. The creature writhed under the plastic. They could hear it screeching and its claws chittering on the rock. He stomped on the head, pinning it. Lewis came up behind him with her survival knife and cut the head and body up with quick savage strokes.
“We
got it!” she cried savagely looking up.
“It doesn't matter Lewis,” the Gunny said softly, sitting on his haunches, shaking his head. She looked over to him seeing his whole body relaxed.
“Oh no, no,” she said softly. She shook her head in helpless denial knowing the worst.
“Yeah, She's gone. Must have been a paralytic or neural toxin. She's dead,” Fairfax said throwing a rock in disgust as he took his stethoscope out of his ears. “Fucking stupid way to die,” he sighed.
Galloway nodded. “Yeah,” he sighed. “That it is.” He touched his throat mike.
“Four to Five and Six, one KIA.”
“This is Five. Roger.”
“This is Six...who...” Ryans asked. Galloway grimaced. Ryan’s voice cleared. “Never mind, Doc's on her way.”
They had Shiller's body bagged by the time the others arrived with the last load.
“What happened?” Ryans asked as Perry pulled up with the rear guard.
“Fucking bug, big one. Some sort of scorpion. Bit Shiller and she dropped from the poison in seconds. There wasn't a thing we could do. She was dead in less than four minutes,” Fairfax said professionally, packing the paramedic bag back up.
Ryans opened the body bag and looked briefly before he then zipped it shut again. “Her lips and skin are blue,” he said a little shaken. The girl's skin had looked swollen and puffy. She looked like a drowning victim or someone's poor excuse for a zombie.
“Nasty way to go. Least it was quick,” the Gunny said nodding. He was keeping an eye on the rocks around them, looking for more places where the damn things could hide.
The Doc came up behind them arms crossed. She checked the body herself and then grimaced. “Yeah, I'd imagine.”
Lewis held up a clear sample bag with the body of the insect in it. “Burn it?” she asked hopefully.
Ryans and the others looked over to her then to the arthropod. “Yeah, no,” he said. The marines turned a dark look on him. Ryans sighed. “Get it to Nate. Warn him about the toxin. Tell him I want it isolated when we settle down somewhere and in his free time try to figure out what it is so we can treat it.”