Dark Planet

by Charles W. Sasser

  The lizards cautiously kept to the cover of the streambed. The stream twined toward the narrows. All forces were converging there. I pulled myself up by my shoe laces, an old, old Earth expression, sucked it in, and hobbled as fast as I could toward the collision point. The element of surprise should get me close enough to neutralize Blade’s advantage with the Gauss and place us into dueling range with Punch Guns.

  It was going to be shootout time in the rocks. It required extreme extra effort to control my taa output. Even if I won, I could also lose.

  Life is a choice and a chance, said the GP.

  It wouldn’t be long now before Blade discovered the hoax. I figured he would catch on about the time he reached the narrows. I thought I heard fiendish chuckles coming muffled through the fury of the storms. I thought the Presence sounded less self-assured than before.

  C·H·A·P·T·E·R

  FIFTY FOUR

  By an effort of which I thought myself incapable under the circumstances, without using taa, I made it to the narrows ahead of most of the Goliath beetles, Blade, and the trailing lizard pack. I selected a knotted slab of limestone and black volcanic rock overlooking the narrows and burrowed into a slot among mossy boulders and bushes. From this vantage point I overlooked the stream as it came out of the burn and passed through into savannah and forest beyond. The ground lay open on either bank of the creek, although it was strewn with glacial rock and boulders, some of which were as large as dwellings on Galaxia.

  A few of the lead beetles moved past, pushed by those behind, who in turn were being pressed by the predator reptiles. I squinted into the storm deluge, wiping at the rain driven into my face, blinking against the almost-constant flicker, flash, and pop of lightning. Even with the fireworks, my view was limited because of the heavy rain. Water filled the stream and swept off the hill around me in a solid liquid veneer.

  My home planet of Ganesh was an arid place in which rain was virtually worshipped. Zentadon had more than one hundred words for rain. Until now, I never thought I could dislike rain.

  The giant beetle insects appeared in dark spots of one or two or in dark clumps of several. They gradually took shape as they approached, brought on and off into relief by the lightning. They passed like silent monarchs in a fog. I was suddenly afraid I would not see Blade before he made it through the pass, or that he would detect me first.

  That wasn’t going to happen, I reassured myself. There was too much sky activity to light up the terrain. As for his spotting me, I had to believe his LF had gone completely on the blink. Otherwise, he would not be chasing the box on the Goliath and assuming it was Pia and me.

  Thinking of my enemy and my designs on his well-being loosed a slight reservoir of taa into my system. I began to get light-headed. It was good to know I still had a cache left. I needed to preserve it for the showdown. I deliberately thought of other things.

  Pia?

  Because of her Talent, so easily developed, we were reaching the point where we no longer had to differentiate between modes of communications; thoughts and words were becoming one. She was waiting for me on the edge of her consciousness.

  I am here, Kadar San. Are you all right?

  I am good.

  Can you show me where you are, what you are doing? she asked.

  I relayed a clip of the storm in the pass and the beetles lumbering past like giant specters. I masked the fact that I lay in wait to kill the Human when he approached, after which, if I were able, I would reclaim the Hell Box.

  The shorter night will soon come, I told her. As soon as it is light again, go to the pod as quickly as you can. Are you rested? Can you make it?

  I can if you promise you will be there.

  Keep the light burning for me.

  I blocked her out for my own sanity. Still no sight of Blade. I readjusted my head rag to cover any glint of golden hair. I checked the makeshift bandage on my thigh. It was wet and muddy. Lichen or mold or something equally disgusting seemed to be growing on it. Undoubtedly it also grew on the wound itself. After this was over, if I pulled through, I was going to require a great deal of physical therapy. Perhaps psychological therapy as well. No current Zentadon had ever killed another sentient and survived it.

  But I was half-Human, wasn’t I?

  I lay on my belly on the slab of rock to make of myself a smaller target. Runoff water laked behind the dam I formed. I drew my Punch. I had to make the three remaining shots count. I used an upcropping of rock as a weapon rest. The gun was stubby in a flat black color. Considering what I had to do, it seemed almost too heavy for me to lift. I heard my heart thudding against the rock underneath. I closed my eyes and concentrated to stop the release of taa to bring on that state of Zen in which it was almost like you and your body became two separate entities. The body functioned while you, the real you, hovered somewhere aloof from it and watched. Snipers called it “getting into the bubble.” I never understood what that meant until now.

  I got into my bubble. I opened my eyes. Weapon in hand, ready, I waited for Blade to come to me.

  C·H·A·P·T·E·R

  FIFTY FIVE

  He came, only not the way I expected. I had him in my sights, following him with the Punch barrel in the frenzied stutter flash of lightning and waiting for him to come within range. I was coping with taa too. Big bugs crept all over the landscape, splashing. There was Blade, darting about among them like a mother who had just lost her only child in a crowd of perverts. I kept losing him and finding him again.

  Then I had him. He was near enough that I saw the intense look on his face as, puzzled, he tried to discern me out of the insect horde. I had heard that it was easier to kill in the heat of battle than it was to look a man in the eyes at close distance and drop the hammer on him. That made it personal, you and him. It was almost like murder.

  A trained sniper would not have hesitated. Not only was I not a trained sniper, I possessed within my Zentadon side generations of compunction against killing. I hated the Human for what he had done. I wanted to see him dead for Pia’s sake, for my sake, for the sake of the Galaxia forces who waited for word about the Blobs, and for the sake of future civilizations that would be destroyed if the genie was not exterminated. But I hesitated, and in that hesitation lost the opportunity to end things quickly.

  I clearly saw, even through the rain, the expression on his face when he spotted the lindal taped to the side of the big herd beetle. It was a combination of elation turning to dismay and then rage when he realized he had been duped. While he might have the treasure, he had no way of getting off the planet with it. His eyes shifted in the direction of the pod, which he clearly expected to see blasting off without him aboard it.

  This time my trap had not failed.

  Suddenly, a howl so primordial that certainly no mortal throat emitted it. Only something disembodied from flesh and its constraints could have expelled such a raw note of emotion. It came from Blade, yet it was more than Blade. It was Blade and the Presence conjoined. Their unleashed rage stabbed into my brain like a bolt of electricity. I dropped my Punch and grabbed my head with both hands.

  Blade went on a sudden rampage, throwing a tantrum. His Punch slapped, recycled, and slapped again. He was shooting up the herd in his mindless fury. He shot two or three as they ran across the little creek. Green-pink blood slime mixed with the water and was quickly washed away.

  He lost sight of the “herd bull” wearing the lindal. He looked for it again, found it, and shot it. The Goliath crashed to the ground and rolled onto its back. All six legs thrummed the air like trees in a hurricane. I saw the black box still stuck to its side.

  Blade ran for the case, carrying his Punch in one hand and the Gauss rifle in the other. Another beetle got in his way and he disintegrated the front half of it with his Punch. He screamed in his fury, but it was only his voice this time. The Presence had abandoned him, as though sensing it was time to fold on this losing hand.

  My head cleared. I snatched up my
Punch and pointed it at the darting figure. Although a Punch delivered tremendous kill power, it was not an area weapon like a grenade. Getting close didn’t always count.

  Wind shrieked through the pass as though the storms chose that opportune moment to let loose. Blade staggered, almost lost his footing. A gust snatched off my head rag and flung it through the air like a crippled bird.

  I glimpsed Blade along the line of my barrel.

  C·H·A·P·T·E·R

  FIFTY SIX

  It was time to cut bait or fish, as Pia might have put it. With Blade looming in my gun sights, I took a deep breath and squeezed the trigger.

  Too quickly. I knew even as I fired that my subconscious prohibition against killing had kicked in and diverted my aim. The projectile struck the already dead bull beetle instead. It exploded in a shower of guts and exoskeleton, legs, and antenna parts. The lindal from its demolished side flew into the clouds. At first, I thought it would land on my bank of the creek. It hit on Blade’s side instead.

  Fanger! Fanger! Fanger! the GP warned shrilly in my head.

  My last little cache of taa kicked in, allowing me to instantly propel myself from the slab of limestone. I landed in a cluster of boulders in the pass by the stream. The slab where I had lain disappeared in a shower of rock and vegetative debris as Blade opened fire.

  Blade’s war cry cut through the tempest. “Fu-uck! Fu-uck!”

  I felt light-headed as I peered around my stone shield. I caught a fleeting glimpse of Blade darting among the moving beetles, using them for cover as he maneuvered on my position. I also tasted the return of the Presence. It hadn’t deserted Blade after all. Apparently, it decided to stay in for one more hand.

  Blade’s blazing eyes located me. His Punch came up with unnerving speed. I ducked and lunged for other boulders nearby. My previous hide exploded behind me. I rolled and came up for my own shot.

  Blade had disappeared. My eyes frantically searched the boulder fields on the other side of the stream. Beetles lumbered about everywhere like eerie tanker ships in the rain.

  I dared not stay in the same position too long. I dropped to my belly and low-crawled to new cover. It was a trick I had learned from Blade when he massacred the team: disappear in one location, reappear in another.

  “Elf?”

  Blade’s disembodied voice came from the boulder field. I peered around my own cover rock, attempting to locate him. The beetles were in the way. Driven by the lizards, they kept coming to cross the creek.

  “Elf, I’m talking to you.”

  The voice came from a different direction. I didn’t dare reply. That was what he wanted.

  “You thought you had won, huh? Fu-uck. You ain’t got the balls to win. You Zentadon can’t kill. Don’t you know that by now?”

  He switched locations again. He was closer the next time he spoke. He sounded somewhere off to my right.

  “Let me tell you how this scenario is going to play out,” he taunted. “You had your chance at me and fucked it up. You made it easy. See that box? It’s already as good as mine. I got plenty of time to take care of you and the cunt and make it back to the pod.”

  He changed locations again. Even nearer.

  “I’m coming now to wax your ass. After which I’ll take care of the cunt. Maybe I’ll fuck her first. What do you think about that? If she screws you, she’ll screw anything.”

  Wind howled. Rain drove in horizontal slants against me with such force that it stung. I clutched my gun in both trembling hands and peeped cautiously out of hiding. I saw nothing out there except the watery outlines of boulders and giant beetles, with the muddy swollen stream flowing between us. The beetles remained oblivious of the little drama being played out between Blade and me.

  I looked up and down the stream. I thought I glimpsed the lizards downstream, but I couldn’t be sure. The Hell Box, the cause of all this, lay on Blade’s side of the creek where it had fallen. Blade was still nowhere in sight.

  Where was he?

  I fell back in exhaustion from the use of taa. Light-headedness was making me dizzy. I had never experienced lintatai. Few had and survived. Judging from the symptoms, however, I surmised I was in lintatai’s beginning stages. Light-headedness, a growing sense of disorientation and disconnection, dreaminess … I shook my head. I didn’t have much time left before I either exploded or went zombie.

  For all my braggadocio and internal posturing about killing that human out there, I simply couldn’t do it when the time came. My resolve and my hand wavered. The taboo against Zentadon killing ran too deeply. I missed my chance and now Blade was going to do exactly what he said he was going to do.

  “I’m coming!” Blade yelled. His howl came punctuated with thunder and lightning, wind and driving rain.

  Killing is not the same as murder, the GP argued inside my head.

  I am trying.

  Try.

  You can only influence, not help? Even now?

  Even now, said the Good Presence.

  You are a weak old aunt.

  Am I?

  I collected my senses and sent them out exploring. After his initial rage, Blade shut down again and I couldn’t find him.

  “Elf? You were right. I killed everyone before just as I killed everyone this time.”

  Why was he telling me this?

  “You know what? I enjoyed it. I want you to know I enjoyed it because I’m going to enjoy killing you. Are you ready, Freddy?”

  Humans were strange creatures.

  I fought off lintatai. If I could only squeeze out a few more minutes. I looked out again and this time I caught Blade as he jumped out from behind a rock and used a fording beetle as cover to cross the creek to my side. My hands were still consumed by uncontrollable trembling.

  I winged a shot at him. I couldn’t be sure this time why I missed, whether because of the taboo or my shaking hands. The bullet streaked out to the limit of its short range and simply vanished without an explosion or anything.

  “Here I come!” Blade called out.

  I rolled over onto my back and looked up into the rain. Light-headedness was fast turning to a sense of well-being and contentment. It was very pleasurable. All my cares dissipated, as though turning to mist and being swept away by the storms. In the distance I heard the triumphant shriek of the Presence.

  I laughed back at it, truly happy for one of the few times in my life. It was the moment that counted, and nothing beyond.

  C·H·A·P·T·E·R

  FIFTY SEVEN

  Lintatai was always fatal. The victim tranced out into another world until he slowly died; he blew up from the heat and energy; or, in my case, his enemy walked up on him while he was transfixed and shot him into little bitty pieces. Carefully, as though placing a treasured item into safekeeping, I lay the Punch Gun with its two remaining energy bullets on the ground by my side. I rolled over and pulled myself up to lean my back against the boulder. The wet chill deep in my bones went away as my body began to heat up.

  Deep inside somewhere where there was some Human left, I realized I was entering a state of lintatai. I had fooled around with taa once too often and had now lost control. Drug-induced euphoria was setting in. My limbs felt dipped in warm cement. I couldn’t move. What’s more, I didn’t want to move.

  I was going to sit right here and enjoy. I smiled up into the storm, not realizing until now how beautiful lightning really was, or how much I liked the feel of the rain and the wind on my face.

  I felt warm and as comfortable as though I were back on Galaxia in my own quarters, about to go to sleep in that safe stage before unconsciousness.

  “I’m coming, elf.”

  Blade’s voice sounded near, very near, but why should I care? I was going to make do. I laughed happily and reached out with one finger to nudge wonderful black clouds racing past my head. I lounged in the monsoon and played with the scuttling clouds. Everything but the clouds was out of my hands. All my choices were being made for me. Rules kept chan
ging. Thing is, I didn’t really care.

  Annoying thought-voices banged and shouted in my head. The GP, who was only supposed to influence, was influencing in such a loud voice that my teeth rattled.

  Go away, go away, I resisted. Can you not see how happy I am?

  It’s an illusion, cried the GP.

  Oh, I do like the illusion. Bring me another cocktail of it.

  Another voice came in, summoned by the GP. It pleaded and begged in mounting distress.

  Please, Kadar San … Tearful. Kadar San, please get control!

  We are never in control.

  Kadar San, he’s going to kill you. Please listen. It’s me. Pia. I don’t want to leave without you.

  Go with your God, Pia. There are not two opposites after all. Everything is the same.

  The GP gave up arguing. Instead, it showed me what was happening. In my mounting lintatai state, I witnessed a scene as through a VR or as one of the old-fashioned movies still viewed by the Human prolies.

  Crouched and so strung out with tension that he almost hopped across the ground, Blade advanced on my position. He had slung the Gauss and gripped his Punch Gun with both hands, arms thrust straight out in front of him, sweeping, like an Enforcer arresting a dangerous criminal. Water ran from his brutal crew cut and veiled the dark hollows of his cave-like eyes. This Human man would not hesitate.

  His heavy face remained on point, but his eyes flicked toward the Indowy lindal lying in the weeds. Greed and triumph flecked into them and he permitted himself a grim, humorless smile.

  He was winning after all, or so he thought, and with plenty of time left to make the pod’s schedule.

  “Gun Maid? Listen, cunt. You and the elf give up this shit. It’s over.”