The possibility of finding survivors made him anxious to move out, but he had a job to complete first.
He reached down, tied the safety line around Samna’s body, and then gently lifted and carried her to the nearest tree trunk, thirty meters to his left.
As he would have guessed, the branches nearer to the trunk were larger than those further out. Had they crashed here, near the trunk, he’d no doubt be dead now. Blind luck. He pushed that thought away and was relieved to find the branches were also more widely spaced, which provided him with a pathway to the surface, seventy meters or so below. The tree’s trunk was ribbed in wide-set grooves that provided a ladderlike surface to climb. Although his heart ached with the loss of his friend and fellow soldier, he was pleased with this tiny bit of good fortune.
He tied the free end of the line to the ring on the back of his suit and lowered Samna’s body down through the gap. He then activated his vision systems and began the long climb down.
This would be his first burial. He wondered if it would be his last.
* * *
Benson ordered Sheen and Tiang to move their carriers five hundred meters into the forest. He held back until they disappeared into the blackness of the surface layer, then maneuvered his own carrier to follow their path. He entered backward, though, anxious to keep both eyes and systems on the enemy vehicle that still circled high above them. The occupants of the alien craft hadn’t tried to approach any closer; for now, they seemed content to monitor the progress and location of the carriers. The ranger wondered how effectively the craft would be able to track them once they entered the forest and assumed they wouldn’t have any difficulty. But they wouldn’t be able to see them unless they wanted to follow them, and for now anyway, that didn’t seem to be the case.
When the carrier was fully enveloped by the forest, Benson activated the exterior lights and spun the carrier 180 degrees. He kept one eye on the screen that tracked the alien vehicle—it still hadn’t moved from the static circular flight path it had been flying for the past twenty minutes—while looking ahead at the seemingly barren surface of Cerbius. He soon saw the dual silhouettes of the other carriers parked ahead and took his place beside them. The landing skids settled onto the planet and he shut the engines down.
Now what?
“Sheen, Tiang . . . get me a list of those on board your carriers. Anyone from your crews missing?” It was a first step and gave the lieutenant a chance to think. There hadn’t been much time for thinking during the evacuation and the run to the ocean.
“All of the Agate’s crew is accounted for. Captain Hansen is on Tiang’s carrier, but the rest of the ship’s crew is here,” Sheen responded. That made six humans on carrier two.
“Carrier three has all scientific and engineering crew on board, plus the captain,” Tiang added. The science crew consisted of four humans, each trained in a unique specialty that was believed to best support the expedition: ethology, geology, microbiology, and botany. The engineers included three humans and two Minith, all trained in mining operations and metallurgy. Including the captain, there were ten Shiale citizens on board the vehicle.
His own vehicle carried the ten surviving rangers, all in their armored suits, plus Aank.
Except for Samna and EJ, everyone was present and accounted for: twenty-four humans, two Minith, and a single Waa. Benson exhaled a sigh of relief at the news. No one else had been left behind.
Next, he turned his thoughts to how the crews were dispersed between the three carriers. The current setup wouldn’t do if they got separated. All of their combat personnel were on one carrier. He needed to spread them out between the three vehicles.
“Tiang, what did your sensors pick up about the atmosphere outside? Is this place as habitable as we thought?” The initial scouting pass had labeled the planet as “Earth-like,” but that had only been a brief, passing scan from a distant orbit. Tiang’s team was responsible for determining just how livable the planet really was.
“Lieutenant, our initial scans from The Agate provided readings that are well within the ranges required of human, Minith and Waa tolerances,” the lead engineer replied stiffly. “The carrier sensors we have on board now confirm that.”
So they could breathe the air outside. Great. That didn’t mean they were safe, though. Flora, fauna, microscopic spores, undetectable gasses, and a thousand other unknown dangers could be waiting for them to break the seal on the carrier doors.
Unfortunately, they had little choice. They couldn’t remain inside the carriers forever, just waiting for rescue. The vehicles offered quick, efficient transportation, not prolonged life support.
They would just have to rely on their sensors and trust that they were correct. He was about to issue orders to his team, when Tiang interrupted.
“Does anyone else feel that?” the engineer asked over the comms unit.
Feel what, Benson thought? As soon as he had the thought, the carrier vibrated beneath his booted feet. The shaking movement lasted for less than a second. Benson cocked his head and amped up the external volume on his suit. Another movement shook the carrier. He looked out the window but saw only darkness outside the ring of light provided by the carrier lights. He heard a thumping crash and another vibration shook the craft, this one stronger than the last.
What the flock?
“There! Right there!” Tiang’s voice rang through Benson’s helmet, and the ranger quickly dialed down the volume. The excitement in the engineer’s words was tinged with a degree of fear and a hint of awe. “Do you see it?”
Benson scanned the darkness outside but saw nothing but the ring of artificial light cast by the three carriers. He reached out and flipped the switch that extinguished the carrier’s external lights, then activated the night vision in his PEACE armor. The lights from the other two carriers overpowered the night-vision sensors, however, so he quickly switched to thermal.
That’s when he saw it. It was a hundred meters out and headed directly for carrier three. A giant . . . worm? The spectacle was difficult to fathom, but Benson watched, mouth agape, as the beast—which was easily as big around as the giant trees surrounding them, and nearly a hundred meters long—pulled the rear of its body forward until its middle section formed a towering arch fifty meters high. Then the front portion of the monster lifted up, shot forward, and slammed to the ground. The vibration caused the carrier to shake violently and snapped the ranger out of his trance.
“Rangers, out of the carrier,” he shouted to the soldiers seated behind him. “Activate thermal sights and set up a defensive position!”
The nine suited rangers didn’t hesitate. The soldier seated next to the carrier door—Corporal Aquino, Benson noted—activated the release and promptly exited the craft. The other eight rangers were right behind. In just under ten seconds, Benson and Aank were the only two left on the vehicle. Benson gave a silent nod to the Waa, then made his own exit.
His boots hit the hard-packed surface and he immediately sprinted to his left. He didn’t recall picking up his pulse rifle on the way out of the cockpit, but it was in his hands and ready to fire as he made the turn around the rear of the carrier.
He skidded to a halt beside the rest of the rangers and stared up at the alien beast. It was less than twenty meters away and was in the process of pulling the rear of its massive body forward once again. As the middle of the giant began to arch, Benson knew what was coming.
“Fire at will!” he commanded, hoping they weren’t too late. A heavy stream of pulse, shotgun, and rifle fire reached out from the ten rangers and found its target.
The giant worm seemed to shudder as the rounds hit its flesh, but its forward momentum didn’t falter. Benson watched in horror as the head of the beast whipped forward and slammed down on the top of carrier three. Only after they ceased firing abruptly did he register the screams that Tiang had been sending out over the comms.
Flock, flock, flock!
“Keep firing,” he commanded.
The rangers did not let up, but their efforts didn’t seem to have much effect. The worm arched again, and Benson cringed at what another lunge would do to carrier two, which sat directly in the giant’s path.
To his surprise, the next lunge never came. Instead, the head of the beast lifted up from the ruins of Tiang’s carrier, and its mouth gaped open. From the dark maw he watched as dozens of tonguelike appendages dipped down to the crumpled remains of carrier three and began to lap up the bits and pieces of those who had been crushed beneath its weight only moments before. Benson gagged, fought against the urge to throw up inside his helmet, and continued to fire pulses into the animal. He redirected his fire into its open mouth and saw the creature cringe back as two of its tongues were severed.
“Fire into its mouth,” he yelled, and was pleased to see that focusing on the mouth had an instantaneous affect. The thing recoiled and turned away from the destroyed vehicle and the abhorrent meal it had located inside. It tried to arch again, but the damage had been done. As a unit, and without being ordered to do so, the rangers stopped firing and watched as the beast shuddered, rolled to its right, and crashed against one of the mammoth trees. Despite the size of the dying worm, the tree was a stalwart. It remained steady and unmoving, unaffected by the violence that had taken place beneath its branches.
Benson looked toward the crushed carrier and knew there were no survivors. What had been a fully functional Shiale Alliance carrier only minutes earlier was now a flattened mess of metal, blood, and gore. He was considering their next steps when the ground beneath his boots trembled.
A second, more violent vibration came a few seconds later.
“Sergeant Jerrone,” Benson barked. “Take Ming, Wagner, and Turner and join carrier two. Everyone else, back to carrier one. Now!”
Though there was nothing they could do about those who’d been on the destroyed vehicle, Benson felt like he was abandoning them. Tiang. Captain Hansen. All of the scientists and engineers. Ten lives lost on top of EJ and Samna. Less than an hour on Cerbius and they’d already lost nearly half of their number.
Another crash-tremor sounded as he entered carrier one. He leaped into the pilot’s chair and saw a giant worm approaching from their left. He adjusted the controls, lifted the vehicle into the air, and paused just long enough to check that the other carrier was airborne. Satisfied that carrier two was safe, he turned his vehicle, goosed it into action, and sped away from the area.
Benson wasn’t sure where he was headed or what they would do next. But one thing was certain: it was suddenly clear why the alien vehicle hadn’t followed them into the forest.
Chapter 6
The soil at the base of the tree was easy to dig, and with the suit’s help, Eli made quick progress. He kept an eye on his surroundings and on the suit’s perimeter monitoring systems as he moved the dirt, wary of possible dangers. When he felt the hole was deep enough to deter potential scavengers, he gently lowered Samna’s body down into it. The pain of her loss gripped him, and he struggled against tears as he covered her broken body.
Finished, he stood up and recorded the grave’s location on the PEACE armor’s computer. If possible, he’d come back for her body so she could be given a more appropriate burial. It was a long shot at best, but he would do everything in his power to make it happen.
A scan of the area showed no living presence. No insects, no plants, and no animal life. The hundred or so meters that his vision systems could make out showed only a dark, barren expanse interspersed with the giant tree trunks. He glanced up at the interwoven branches that formed the ceiling far above. That would be his destination.
He reached down for the twenty meters of safety line that he’d placed at the foot of the tree, coiled it into a loop, and slung it over his left shoulder. On an unknown planet with minimal resources at his disposal, he wasn’t going to leave it behind.
He bent down, placed his hand on the soil beneath which Samna lay, and said a silent goodbye.
Then he started to climb.
* * *
Unwilling to break the code of secrecy regarding his ability to read minds, Aank floated a silent message to Benson, the male who had taken over as leader of the human soldiers. Move away from the coast. The thought was so light and intangible that the man wouldn’t realize the idea wasn’t his own.
Although the giant wormlike creatures had very small brains, the diminutive Waa could still read their thoughts, such as they were. Hunt. Eat. Hunt.
The image of the coast came through clearly, though, and Aank had no problem understanding the behemoths did not travel far from the water’s edge. That’s where most of their food resided. Moving a kilometer or two into the interior of the continent would provide adequate safety for the two surviving carriers. From these beasts, anyway. Like his remaining companions, Aank had no idea what other dangers might lie ahead.
As before, Aank sent out thin tendrils of calm to help allay the fear and anger bubbling inside the soldiers around him. Now more than ever, he needed the humans’ emotions minimized so that their unique planning and tactical abilities could operate at maximum efficiency.
While the humans might have argued against his manipulations had they known, the Waa didn’t consider his involvement an issue. It increased their chances of survival.
* * *
Eli didn’t stop climbing when he reached the first ceiling/floor. He already knew the tightly woven branches there offered more than adequate stability for travel. What he didn’t know was what waited above. He was curious by nature and wanted a more complete assessment of his environment before setting out for the Agate—or what was left of her. The ceiling above seemed solid from his current position, but the dim light filtering down didn’t offer the best of views. Regardless, a quick inspection wouldn’t take much time and it was better to know everything he could about this planet.
There was no doubt in his mind that Cerbius would be his home for a while—at least for the several weeks it would take for the Alliance to send a rescue ship. Even if he lasted until rescue arrived, with no food and no immediate sources of water available, there was no guarantee that they’d find him. He was just one tiny, lost soul on a large planet covered entirely by vegetation.
He quickly ascended through the twilight and reached the level above. As with the level below, he had no problem finding a pathway through the branches near the tree’s trunk. These branches weren’t nearly as thick as those on the level below, but they were solid and unyielding, at least here, near the trunk.
He poked his head up into the level . . . and gasped.
He had never visited the last remaining jungle on Earth, but had read about it extensively and seen numerous vids. To Eli, this level of Cerbian forest looked exactly as he thought that jungle on Earth might appear. Tall, green, and leafy plants sprung up from the floor of the level. Reds, blues, and yellows were randomly interspersed among the vivid greens and revealed an abundance of flowerlike shrubs and plants. And the sounds! A clamor of chatters, whistles, and chirps assaulted his ears via the suit’s audible sensors to the point where the armor began filtering them automatically. Not wanting to miss any cues or warnings the cacophony might offer, he bypassed the filters and soaked his ears with the natural rhythms of his surroundings.
Other than a pair of screeching red-and-gray birds that eyed him closely from their perch a few meters away, Eli couldn’t see any of the animals making the sounds. Though hidden, their calls and cries indicated that they were close, however. Once again, he was glad for the armored suit he wore. It would protect him from bugs as well as bites and stings from any of the creatures he might encounter. Then again, this wasn’t Earth, Telgora, or Waa. It was Cerbius, a planet of which he had little knowledge. Eli was reminded of that ancient, false idiom his father sometimes quoted when training his men: What you don’t know can’t hurt you. Both father and son understood, trained, and operated under a different, more accurate credo: What you don’t know can’t be trusted and w
ill often kill you. Eli made a mental note to appreciate what his armor provided, but not to count on its being invincible. It wasn’t.
He looked up and noted the ceiling for this level was patchy and uneven. In places, he could see through the level above clearly, and noted in these locations that an even higher level—perhaps the topmost level of the forest—existed above even that one. Despite having two ceilings hanging over his head, a broken pattern of blue peeked through to reveal the Cerbian sky. Additionally, the rays of bright sunshine that reached into this level were apparently more than sufficient to foster the abundance of life Eli saw all around him as he stepped away from the tree trunk and into the jungle.
Moving forward with extreme caution, Eli tested the layer upon which he now stood. Despite being built upon thinner branches than the darkened layer below, it seemed secure and solid. It was also more even, flatter, than the layer below, and he stooped down to explore. He pulled up a handful of lightly damp soil and hypothesized that through untold cycles of life, death and rebirth, the plants growing here had laid down enough layers to create a layer of terra firma—or more accurately, Cerbia firma—on top of the branches forming the floor.
Interesting, Eli thought, watching the soil spill through the fingers of his armored gloves. Traveling on this level might make more sense due to the smooth floor and the additional light. Then again, the limited range of visibility caused by the jungle’s foliage could be hiding any number of dangers.
Eli dusted the remaining soil from his gloves and returned to the tree trunk. He looked upward for a moment, then resumed his climb.
When he reached the next level, he noted that his earlier assessment was correct. The branches at this level wouldn’t provide much support once he moved away from the tree’s center. Above, the level was topped by the uppermost branches of the forest. From this view, the ceiling seemed almost nonexistent. The leafy cover above was sparse and airy. From the Agate, the forest’s ceiling had seemed impenetrable, nearly solid, but he now knew that to be mostly an illusion.
Stranded Justice (The Justice Trilogy Series Book 2) Page 4