I remembered that spot well. You never forget the places where you fucked up real bad. You sense it even miles away, like a bird knows where the North pole is. In other words, the trip to my humiliation monument was a pain. Another layer of suffering was layered on top of it by the damn scooter malfunctioning. I had to pass every tree in the manner I described earlier. The trip took me twice longer than it should have. At least, the weather was good.
I landed the scooter and jumped to the ground. Now I had to find the thing. The place had overgrown with grass in the past months. The plants didn't seem to give a damn about the cold. I remembered that the machine went down somewhere in the clear and readily strutted forward in the direction of the swamp. My foot struck something, and I fell face down. Turning back, I saw that I'd found it.
There it was, looking at me. The ring of the rear nozzle still stuck out of the earth. It was brown with rust, and there were plants growing out of it, but it was the thing alright. Now the hard part began.
I took out the ice pick and tapped it on the ground around the nozzle. Yep. Frozen solid. How anything could grow in such a soil? I straightened, standing on the knees, and took a deep breath. Cold air tingled inside my rib cage. I raised the ice pick and started to beat the shit out of the ground.
At first, it made just nifty little holes in it, but then I began to connect them and pull whole chunks of the earth to the side with the flat end of the pick. A shovel might have been more appropriate here, but it was too big, and I wasn't sure that the spade wouldn't break in half. I took one clot in hand and tried to squeeze it. It didn't budge. Only with applied force I managed to crumble it into smaller pieces. That was what I had to deal with. The scooter went down nose first, so I had to pull it out in one piece. If I tried doing it without softening the ground, the machine would just rip in half or, most likely, give up just the nozzle.
When I was done, the scooter was freed of the earthly shackles down to the basket. I was wet through and through, my shoulders and palms hurt from the digging, and the knees were sore, but I was jubilant. I smiled, heaving, and patted the rear of the scooter. The hardest part was over. I got up and returned to the working scooter. The rest of the excavating operation required the winch and some machine power. I had both.
I took the winch out of the basket and fixed the box on the front of the scooter. Looking around, I spotted a sturdy tree that would serve my purpose. The winch wrapped its fiber body around the trunk. I stepped away from the tree, towing the hook with me. The winch moved over the bark, sliding with ease. Perfect. Pulling more rope after me, I approached the mired scooter. The winch went in the space between the seat and the rear nozzle and hooked itself below the basket. I stepped back and jerked the rope towards me. It held fast. That way, I'd pull the whole thing intact with no problems.
I returned to the scooter and revved up the engine. The machine had a problem with turning, but all I needed now was for it to go in reverse. It could do that alright. The moment I backed up, the winch straightened and pinged in the air. I pushed the pedal harder. The scooter moved slowly, ever so slowly, but moved.
The rope slid around the tree, leaving marks now. As for the derelict in the ground, it budged. Metal creaked. I hoped it wouldn't break from rust. The rear end came out a bit, the earth around the front bulged. I pushed the pedal to the metal. The scooter wagged from side to side, the engine roaring. I heard the tree creaking and watched it lean towards me. Meanwhile, the fucking thing made only the slightest jerks. I started to tug the handles at me to add more power to the pull. The tree trunk clapped, and sawdust mixed with splinters fired into the air. The ground rose and broke into cracks. The lost scooter jumped out of its prison and into the open air, clots of earth saluting above it. I stopped the engine.
I dismounted and walked to the thing. It was mostly brown and some parts fell off, but, otherwise, the scooter looked the same. When I passed the tree, I checked the trunk. The winch bore deep into it, leaving a trench. Good thing it didn't break.
I approached the lost-and-found machine. The smell of earth and rot hit me. I went straight for the dashboard. I cleaned it off the soil with my hand and checked the board-card compartment. It was filled with earth. I took out the ice pick and plucked the dirt out with the tip. When it was relatively free of the stuff, I pushed my fingers there again. Feeling around, I found the button and pushed, pulling the compartment up. It opened with an audible croak. The fucking thing was sitting in its nest, intact. I took it out and clapped the lid shut.
The board-card lay in my hand, an inch of plastic and metal that caused so much fuss. I couldn't restrain a laugh. It could have been damaged inside. At least, I had the serial number. The card went into my breast pocket and I leaned on the scooter. What should I do with it now? I looked at the swamp ahead. It seemed a good idea. There was nothing of value left in the machine, and towing it to the cabin was out of the question.
Lost in my pondering, I noticed too late the lowering of the ground I stood on. When I did, it was already going. I managed to make just one step away from the scooter when the whole area collapsed downward. I was in the free fall for seconds that seemed like hours. So helpless. The winch pinged again, only this time above me. The scooter swung at me and collided with my chest. Air rushed out of me, and I hit solid earth with my back.
When the ruckus was over, I looked around and examined the situation. I was in a deep cavity, pinned to the ground with the heavy scooter that was still attached to the winch that was wrapped around the tree. Thanks to that fact, the working machine didn't join us in the hole. It just so happened that my left hand got pinned under the retrieved machine. The one with the communicator on it. In other words, I was trapped in a hole in the forest, no one knew where I was, and I had no means of telling them. And oh yeah, the rifle was under my back, so close and so distant. I couldn't even signal my location by shooting in the air.
FUCK.
I lay still and listened to myself. Breathe in, breathe out. The chest moved hard, but without pain. So, no broken ribs. My right hand was free. I moved it, slapping around the area. It wasn't broken. My face was inches from the seat. It smelled of plastic, rubber and fungus. Something needed to be done.
The elbow propped itself on the hard ground. The heels dug down. I strained my whole body, creating a bridge and trying to lift the scooter off me. It rocked and shifted over me, but to no avail. I was pinned down good.
I slapped the fucking thing as if that could help the matter and dropped my head. The sky was clear and hung over me. I could see only it and some smoky clouds, no trees. I imagined how I would look to others when they find my corpse. The lousiest ranger in the world mired his scooter, tried pulling it out and was killed by it. That could make it into the headlines. I would be a celebrity. Maybe, even enter the language. 'You're such a wealder,' people would say.
I slapped myself on the forehead. What was I thinking about? I took the deepest breath I could and screamed, 'HELP ME! I'M TRAPPED!'
No answer, as expected.
I screamed again and then stopped. No use kidding myself, no one could hear you out here. I thought about that a bit. I was at the edge of my territory, Ort's sector and the wild-lands. There were my cameras nearby. Ergo, there were Ort's cameras not far from the pit. If I walked right into them, they'd have registered my presence and alerted him. I couldn't do that, obviously. On the other hand, he could have heard me screaming and maybe was already rushing to help me. Yeah, fat chance. Forest is a loud place full of screams, chattering and whatever. Cameras wouldn't pick up yelling from a hole in the ground. But I had nothing else to do, so…
I took another deep breath and looked up. My scream stuck in the throat and I choked. There was a dark human shape leaning over the edge. My first thought was about Ort, but the silhouette was too small for him.
The third rule of the forest — always beware of humanoids.
My feet got chilly, and then the cold rose up my body. The silhouette was alm
ost square. An alien. He, or she, was looking straight at me, but I could see nothing but darkness against the bright sky. Then the guest looked up, presumably at my scooter above. I saw the face. R'lok. I saved his life, so maybe he could help me. Edlon said that he could understand human and even talk.
'Hey!' I hesitated, not knowing what to call him. 'Buddy, I need help!'
The native looked at me again. Did he understand me?
'I'm trapped here!' I yelled, pointing at the scooter. 'Can you—' He vanished. The sky was clear again. So much for gratitude…
The winch jerked. I looked up, and dirt fell into my face. The rope was moving over the edge of the pit. He was trying to pull me out. The winch slid up, pulling the scooter with itself. One end of the machine rose into the air. I feverishly pushed myself out of the trap, but didn't make it far. There was a grunt from above, and the load dropped on me.
The head appeared again, this time almost directly above me. 'Too heavy,' the alien said. His voice was rough, like a dog trying to speak. Yet, it was perfectly understandable. The sound of it made my heart race.
'Go there,' I waved my free hand in the direction of Ort's sector. 'Tell him of this situation through—' I paused, not knowing how to explain surveillance to him.
'Talk to highwatcher, yes,' the alien said. 'Call another thundergod.'
Hope flowed through my veins. 'Yes, yes,' my head bobbed up and down. 'Go now.'
R'lok leaned forward and made a ring with his thumb and forefinger. With that, he was gone. I heard footsteps going away from the pit. I assumed that he knew what to do. Judging by our previous encounter, he could pantomime into a camera. I hoped that Ort would understand him.
All I had to do now was lie and wait.
Time stretched in the most inhumane manner. It could have been minutes or hours since the alien had left, and there was no sign of Ort. I concentrated on the environment trying to dispense the sound of the coming scooter from everything else. I heard only the rustling of leaves, the cracking of wood and occasional animal cries. I was alone.
The legs went to sleep. The right shoulder blade pulsed with pain, the rifle was rubbing it the wrong way. The earth was cold, and my nose started to run. Shit… Every time I looked up, I saw nothing but an indifferent sky above. It didn't care about my problems. I was just food for the forest. Eventually, my thoughts moved from the matters above me to what was below me. I didn't fool myself. The pit was just a tip of a bigger cavity. Floating earth doesn't exist without one under it. I was lucky not to fall down, deep into Safun. There, nothing would have helped me, ever.
I heard rustling sounds and puffing. So close. I imagined a giant mole coming out of the ground and biting me in half. I shook my head, waving away the image. No such creature lived here. Or did it? Meanwhile, the puffing came closer. The source was somewhere on the surface. I readied for the worst. A taj…
A fluffy head appeared over the edge and looked at me. It wasn't a taj, but something far smaller. The animal twitched its whiskers in the air and moved the round ears. I didn't like that. The animal leaned over the edge and hung on the wall, grabbing it with small claws. It was a kind of possum, I didn't know the proper name. Size of a cat, gray and white, long tail. And small sharp teeth in its long mouth. It started to crawl towards me.
'Fuck off!' I screamed, and the possum stopped. It sized down and froze in its place. When I didn't try to kill it, the animal moved again.
I picked a clod of frozen earth and threw it at the animal. 'FUCK OFF I SAID!' My projectile hit the dirt near it. The possum shrank down again, looking at me. I returned the gaze and instantly knew that it wouldn’t stop.
The ice pick! It was my only available weapon in this situation. The possum started to move again. The ice pick was locked under the scooter. I fished my hand down, pushing it between the metal, the earth and my leg. The weapon was on my belt.
The possum was crawling, I could hear the rustling of its claws over the earth.
My sleeve got stuck on something. I pushed harder and tore it. My fingers touched the ice pick. I grabbed the blade and pulled it up.
The possum was closer, I could smell its stinky fur.
The blade wouldn't go. I started to jerk it up, cutting my raincoat more. It didn't matter. At last, the ice pick emerged from under the scooter. I grabbed it by the shaft and turned to the enemy. The possum hissed into my face, I saw its ocher mouth and tongue. And teeth, of course, a lot of teeth. I struck it with the pick. The animal jumped back, its fur standing up on the back.
'Fuck off, you rat!' I yelled and waved the ice pick in front of it.
The possum kept hissing, but wouldn't go away. I lunged at the animal, trying to pierce its skull. The blade struck only the earth. The animal shut up and moved away. Finally! My jubilation was premature. The possum crawled down. It couldn't get to the face, so it went for the legs.
My legs. I wouldn't even feel the bite. What if it was poisonous? I lowered the ice pick and tried to look down and couldn't! The scooter was blocking the view. I started to scream at the beast, not sure that it would help at this point.
A shot rang out, followed by a squeak and the sound of rolling earth. I looked up. Ort was standing over the edge, rifle in hand.
'Ort! Help me!' I waved the ice pick to him like a flag.
He nodded and went away. Ort returned on his scooter. He descended into the pit and hovered over me. Ort took out big pincers and leaned over the seat. He was going to cut the rope.
'No, Ort! Don't do—' Too late. The winch flew open and lashed to the side. The scooter fell on me. I couldn't breathe.
'Hang on,' Ort said calmly. He took the rusted scooter by the saddle and flew away on his own machine. The derelict rose from my chest, assumed vertical position and then fell to the side. I watched the machine tumble down the pit to the bottom. When the scooter reached it, something gave, and it fell down deeper. A black hole gaped at me. I was atop a cavern, after all.
I sat up, pushing myself on the hands. 'My legs are asleep.'
'Don't think so.' Ort took me with one hand and jerked upward, dropping on the seat behind him. We rose out of the pit in that manner.
When we landed, I stepped on the ground, swaying on my feet. He was right, they were just numb a bit. I looked around. The scooter was there, waiting for me. The winch was still wrapped around the tree and went back into the pit.
I turned to Ort, breathing air and rubbing the chest. 'The alien, he…' I puffed.
'Yes, R'lok. He told me about your problem.' He looked over the scenery. 'The fuck happened?'
I didn't know what to say and didn't really want to. He would consider me an idiot forever. 'Just… things. Some stuff that I needed to do.' I paused and wanted to say something else, but only shrugged and smiled.
Ort was stone-faced. 'Alright. Be careful with your stuff.' He looked around again. 'Need help?'
'I think not. I'll clean the mess myself.'
'Good for you. I'll be going then.' He turned to the dashboard, ready to fly away.
'Wait,' I said. 'What's with R'lok?'
Ort peered at me. 'He went back into the woods.' He said nothing else and kept staring.
'OK. Bye. Thanks for the help.' I raised my hand still holding the ice pick and dropped it.
Ort solemnly nodded and flew away. I followed him with my eyes until he disappeared out of sight. For some reason, I didn't want to do anything in his presence.
When Ort was gone, I took out the board-card and looked at it. So much trouble over such a small thing. I closed the palm and put the card back into my pocket. The mess needed cleaning up.
The Visiting Day
The clerk was tapping his pen on the table while looking at the file before him. 'Tch-tch-tch.' He sighed and raised his eyes to me. 'Young man, I think you are unfit to be a forest ranger.'
I couldn't find the words and slapped my rifle on the table. 'Sir, I've told you already that I'm perfect for the job. I'm Wealder!'
The
lemur clerk pushed the rifle away from him with one pale finger. 'Corporal, we have received reports of you. Non-flattering ones. You have shown total ineptitude to coping with the forest. And this one.' The clerk leaned under the table and slapped another file in front of me. 'This one says that you have a severe case of puttering.'
I stared at the file that was dirty with greasy fingerprints. 'No, I'm not.'
'YES, YOU'RE, FUCK FACE!' a voice roared at me.
I looked up and saw Ort leaning towards me. He looked furious, and his beard seemed to move all by itself. 'JUST LOOK AROUND!' His voice went even higher, and he spread his big arms. I did what he told me to do.
The room was gone, and we were sitting in the forest. The woods were dark and covered in smoky mist. Something was moving in the distance, beyond the veil of haze. Something big and blazing. I squinted to have a better look at it. Ort grabbed me by the jaw and jerked my head to him. His steel fingers pressed the flesh of my cheeks to the teeth. His red face was right before me.
'YOU PIECE OF SHIT YOU KNOW NOTHING YOU FUCK YOU,' he kept screaming into my face until I couldn't understand a single word he was saying. It all melted into one long wail that stripped my face of the flesh.
A blaring siren awakened me. That was the day when my problems really began. Still grasping for consciousness, I thought it might be the alarm clock and searched with my hand on the nightstand. Then I remembered I didn't have an alarm clock. And a nightstand for that matter. I sat up and rubbed my eyes, the siren cutting through me. Finally, I jumped out of bed and ran to the crow's nest. I turned on the computer and checked the screens. Everything peaceful. I realized it must be the cabin alarm. Someone was attacking the building.
Still not understanding what was happening, I switched to the perimeter cameras and leaned to the screen. I saw a downshot of the pilings and the one-eyed alien standing just before them. R'lok didn't even try to conceal himself and was throwing rocks at the cabin's basis.
Under the Canopy Page 9