Eli scanned his surroundings, looking for a good water source. He almost immediately spotted the rivulets of water running down the bark of the closest tree. He had his source. A few minutes later, he had a water sample collected and loaded into the filtration unit. It took the suit’s computerized systems only a few seconds to determine the water would be safe to drink after being filtered properly. An hour later, his stomach and his suit’s two-liter system were both filled with as much as they could hold.
The two liters weren’t much and wouldn’t last more than forty-eight hours, even if closely rationed, but he was in a better place than he’d been the previous evening, when his suit had been dry. Despite the ongoing gnawing of a stomach filled with water but empty of food, Eli felt good about his situation. He was halfway to his destination and had enough water to (probably) get him there. He could put up with a growling stomach for a couple more days, if needed.
Eli forced down another few swallows, topped off his containers, then started out on the day’s hike.
After only a few steps he knew he might not be able to continue moving forward on this layer. The soil covering the layer’s floor had turned to muck in the rain, and each step was a struggle. He did a quick check and noted his suit was at 88 percent power. The solar chargers were working fine; the sunlight filtering through the bird layer had managed to keep the energy levels high for the past two days. There wasn’t much sun shining through the upper layer now though, so there was little need to remain on the higher layers. On the other hand, the need to engage his night vision systems on the dim or surface layers would drain power more quickly. Without the sun to recharge the suit, he’d be powerless in twenty-four hours.
Eli was no stranger to these types of scenarios. He’d learned early in life that making decisions relied on taking what he knew of a situation and infusing it with an amalgam of probabilities, training, and personal experience. His father called it “going with your gut,” and had explained that it was nature’s way of helping you make choices. Sometimes your gut was wrong, his father had explained, but it always had a reason for pointing you in a direction, even if you couldn’t put that reason into words.
Eli’s gut was telling him to trade battery life for speed.
He turned to his right and headed for the closest tree.
* * *
Eli’s initial thought had been to travel along the planet’s surface toward the ship crash. His power usage wouldn’t be any greater than if he was traveling along the dim layer, especially since visibility at that layer was further reduced by the rainstorm. He had quickly discarded that idea when he discovered the surface was even soggier than the floor of the jungle layer. Apparently, the branches of the upper levels were designed to channel water to the trunks, which delivered it to the surface. As a result, the surface was a muddy quagmire, and he had been forced to travel along the bumpy, intertwined branches that formed the floor of the dim level.
The going was remarkably easy and Eli moved much quicker than he’d have been able to move along the jungle layer, with its tight clusters of trees, bushes, and flowers. And the occasional trap, of course. By midday, he’d covered half the remaining distance to the downed ship, and even with the constant use of his night vision and his proximity alarm systems, his power levels remained solidly in the green at 68 percent. With continued good fortune, he’d reach the crash site by dark and still have enough power to continue on for another full day. Not that he’d need to. He wasn’t on a schedule, so he could find a spot on an upper level in which to hole up and wait out the rain, if needed. Once the sun returned, he could wait for his suit to recharge before moving on. He wasn’t sure just yet, though, where he should be “moving on” to. After the ship, the coast and the illegal mining operation were the two most likely options.
Eli stopped for the third time since early morning to top off his water. He did so each time his supply dipped beneath the three-quarters mark. His thinking was that as long as the rain came down, he might as well take advantage of it. Except for the local wildlife and probably the enemies who’d shot the Agate down, who knew how often it rained on Cerbius?
Over the course of the morning’s march, he hadn’t had any direct contact with anything living except for a family of slow whitish sluglike creatures he’d spotted climbing a tree trunk. He’d stopped briefly to check them out and make a short, boring vid before moving on. His proximity alarms had sounded twice, but both times he caught nothing more than brief, fleeting glimpses of shadowy figures, and each time they were moving away from him. Fine by me, Eli thought. He’d rather be the one doing the scaring, flock you very much. If he made it off the planet without seeing anything threatening or dangerous, he’d chalk this visit up as a success.
He was just replacing the valve on his water when his alarm sounded a third time. Having been through this before, he made sure the valve was securely closed before turning his attention to what had triggered the warning.
It was almost his undoing.
Behind, behind, behind!
If not for the urgently whispered warning, he would have been trampled.
Eli didn’t hesitate; he didn’t really think. Using the full power of the PEACE armor, he just jumped. The reaction launched his body five meters in the air and he looked down just as a dark shape flashed through the space where he’d just been standing. He reached the apex of the maneuver and diverted his attention from the still-moving shape to focus on his safe return to solid ground. Even with the armor, landing safely atop the gnarled, twisted branches of the dim floor required his full concentration.
But land he did, the mechanized joints of the suit absorbing the impact.
Again, again, again!
Another warning, and again he didn’t hesitate. He just leaped. Only this time, he didn’t jump straight up, but up and to his left. Whatever was out there was either very fast or hunted in groups. Regardless, he refused to provide it with an easy target that moved on only two planes.
Again Eli landed, but this time he didn’t wait for a warning. He immediately launched his body into a third leap, one that carried him backward and to the right. His eyes scanned the ground below as he arced across the floor, and he spotted three distinct figures below. In the green-tinted light of his night vision, he couldn’t determine their real color, but he easily noted their size and their location. Built like large canines, their heads hung low to the ground and scanned the area around them with rapid, side-to-side movements. They were definitely hunting as a pack. Fortunately, they seemed a bit confused by his jump-land-jump strategy. They stood unmoving near his first position, scanned the area with their eyes, and sniffed at the air.
The name of an extinct Earth animal—wolf—entered his mind, pulled from some long-ago study of his home planet, and he wondered how similar these things were to that ancient beast. Were wolves this big? Did they hunt in packs? He doubted the same species could have evolved here as had evolved on Earth. Not that it mattered. He had no idea how they were similar or dissimilar, but he decided that’s how he’d describe them in his audio journal. If he survived the encounter, of course.
It’s funny what passes through your head at times like these, he thought.
He landed, then launched his body into the air once again, this time throwing his body forward. He twisted as he moved through the air, trying to keep two of the animals in his sights. Neither moved, which was good. As planned, he landed within a meter of the third beast.
The loud crunch of his armored boots as they landed on the branches got the animal’s attention, and the beast whipped its head around. The large, yellowed teeth bared in his direction seemed razor sharp, but Eli wrote that off to imagination, adrenaline, and proximity. The size of the beast’s oral cavity, however, and the speed with which it had turned toward Eli, couldn’t be written off so easily. Eli didn’t know if his armor would stop a bite, and didn’t need to find out. At least, not yet. He delivered an armored fist to the side of the thing’s h
ead. A loud, cracking sound accompanied the blow, and the animal was knocked to the ground, its teeth no longer an issue.
Eli didn’t wait to see if the animal would stay down. Once the punch was delivered, he was back in the air, preparing a second blow for the next hunter. He landed beside the next target and swung. It went down with a whimper and Eli jumped again, ready to take out the last stalker.
He was beginning to think the beasts were fast but not very smart when the third looked up at him. Eli was just at the apex of the leap and beginning his descent when the animal took two steps backward—just far enough to put him (or her) safely outside of Eli’s immediate reach.
Flock!
Although the animal couldn’t see his eyes because of the face screen, Eli looked directly into those of the final wolf as he hurtled toward the floor. They were large, angry, and promised death. Eli debated making another, immediate jump when his feet hit the surface but elected to hold off. He was ready to finish the fight. He hadn’t wanted to hurt this thing or any of its pack, but they’d forced it onto him. He wouldn’t hesitate or shy away from doing what was needed.
When Eli landed, the wolf made its own leap and aimed its fangs directly at Eli’s throat. Unfortunately for the animal, his throat was covered in armor, so the teeth, as sharp as they might be, found no purchase. The action pushed Eli backward off his feet, and he rolled with the movement, wrestling to seize the wolf. Eli’s hands captured the beast’s neck and he used his backward momentum to toss the animal’s body up and over his head. It landed with a whoof of expelled air and a squeal.
The ranger rolled to his feet quickly, ready to face another charge.
But none came.
The wolf pushed itself up slowly into a wobbling, upright position. Its tongue hung out of the overlarge mouth and Eli heard the rough panting of its breath. The animal looked at Eli for several seconds, then turned its eyes away. It trotted to each of its downed pack mates in turn, sniffed their unmoving forms, then loped away without another glance back.
Good riddance. Eli waved, happy to see the thing go. He shrugged out the tension that had settled in his shoulders and checked his power reading: 65 percent remaining.
With nothing else to be done or said, he quietly turned back to his previous heading, noted the distance still remaining—nine kilometers—and then got moving again, eager to put distance between himself and the wolves.
This time, he didn’t pause to offer a silent “thank you” to whatever had given him the warning. He had tried telling himself the previous incident had been in his head, just a bout of overactive imagination, but now he knew better. Something or someone was watching him. And while they seemed to be helping him as well, he hated the thought of being watched. Even more unpleasant, though, was his dislike of unanswered questions.
* * *
The rain was a blessing and a curse. A blessing because it provided Benson, Ming and Aquino added cover, and a curse because the carriers were being swamped in the deepening mud of the forest floor. The hard-packed surface they’d grown accustomed to was now a muddy paddock.
The trio of scouts was above the muck and moving silently and easily across the knitted limbs that made up the floor of the twilight layer. The enemy mine was a kilometer to their west. Benson had ordered the rest of the crash survivors and rangers to remain on board the vehicles and to maintain a slow, random flight pattern that held close to the team’s departure point. It expended additional energy resources, which were plentiful though finite, but it kept the carriers above the muddy swamp.
Ming, at point position for this leg of the operation, took a knee and raised his right fist. Benson, following five meters behind, quickly followed suit. He didn’t have to look back at Corporal Aquino to know he had also taken a knee.
“Some type of obstruction ahead, LT,” Ming relayed back. Benson couldn’t see anything from his position, so he quietly moved up to where Ming was kneeling. He dropped down beside the private and keyed up his long-range vision. “Do you see it?”
It took Benson’s vision a moment to make out what Ming was pointing at, but it was there, nearly half a kilometer ahead. Some type of wall. It didn’t have regular, even edges, so it was difficult to make out. He clapped Ming on the shoulder. “Good eyes, Ming.”
“One of the advantages of youth, Lieutenant,” Ming replied. The humor in his voice came through, and Benson had to smile. At the tender age of twenty, Ming was a full year younger than his lieutenant, who just happened to be the oldest person in their unit. Even his best friend and captain, Eli Justice—EJ—was younger, by a few months. The reminder that EJ was no longer with them sobered Benson, and he swallowed his retort.
“Let’s get closer and see what we’re working with.”
Ming merely nodded before standing and continuing forward. Benson waited for him to move ahead the required distance of five meters before following. A quick glance over his shoulder showed Corporal Aquino in his appointed place. Aquino’s head swiveled, constantly checking their flanks and rear for anything that might want to do them harm. Like Ming, Aquino was one of the best soldiers in their unit. It’s why Benson had tapped him for the scouting mission.
A hundred meters farther on it was evident that the wall wasn’t a normal wall. It seemed to be an earthen berm, whose primary purpose seemed to be to block any approach to the mine. The heaped maze of tree trunks, branches, and dirt rose up well above their heads. The top of the berm seemed to end halfway up to the next-highest layer of the forest. They had three choices: climb the wall, circle it and look for an opening, or move up to the next layer. It was an easy decision for Benson. They didn’t need to get close to the mine—at least not yet. They merely needed to check it out. Looking over the wall to the mine on the other side was paramount, so “up” they’d go.
“Ming move toward that tree on our right. We’re going up.”
“Sure thing, LT,” Ming responded and quickly changed direction. “You want me to lead?”
“You’re still point,” Benson agreed. “Set up a defensive position when you reach the top. We’ll be right behind you.”
“Got it.”
Benson watched as the private began his climb. He used the ladderlike ridges the tree conveniently offered and started up. Benson waited for Ming to reach the next level, nodded his readiness to Aquino, and then followed. With the suit to assist, the climb was almost as easy as it had looked when Ming did it. Benson wondered how soldiers who weren’t issued the PEACE armor managed. Although production and issue had been ramped up over the past year, there were still significantly more Alliance soldiers without the suits than with.
He reached a gap between the trunk and the next level and paused.
“Okay, Aquino, your turn.”
“On my way.”
Benson scanned the dimly lit area beneath them for threats while the corporal climbed. He trusted Ming to be doing the same on the layer above. It took only a few minutes for Aquino to reach his position. Benson gave a final scan of the area below, then climbed the final few meters to where Ming waited.
When the trio was assembled, they resumed their previous positions and set out for the wall and the mine beyond. The junglelike surroundings of this layer were a welcome relief. They’d been traveling through the seemingly endless expanse of the dimly lit forest below for hours and had been trapped in carriers at the dark bottom of the forest for three days. Before that, Benson had spent months on board an Alliance spaceship. Being surrounded by foliage and catching glimpses of the numerous birds and insects around them seemed wondrous by comparison.
They spied an opening in the canopy ahead, which meant they were almost to the mine.
A hundred meters from the edge of the opening, Benson gave the command for camouflage and concealment. He watched as Ming’s suit absorbed the colors and patterns of the jungle around them and made Ming nearly invisible. He looked down at his own suit and saw similar patterns form. Satisfied with the effect, they moved in a s
ide by side line toward the edge of the forest. At thirty meters, they went prone and lowcrawled forward slowly, testing the security of the floor beneath them as they went. The closest trunk was less than two meters from the edge, so Benson felt they were secure on the widest branches the tree afforded, but still, he didn’t want to take any chances. Moving slow also helped protect them from watchful eyes—eyes that were drawn to movement. If their recon of the scout ship was any indication, they could expect to find Minith here. And Minith eyes don’t miss much.
Benson pushed past the last of the jungle foliage and marveled as the alien mine was revealed for the first time. It wasn’t nearly as large as the mines on Telgora, but here, surrounded by forest—and a wall that rose more than a hundred meters—it was still impressive.
“Minith guards,” Aquino pointed out.
Benson spotted four raised towers located around the base, each occupied by a pair of the aliens. Two of the four towers also sported what appeared to be Zrthn plasma cannons. Not that it had been any mystery, but seeing the cannons validated their assumptions of what had happened to the Agate. It also confirmed for Benson that the Zrthns were involved and had somehow managed to conscript Minith soldiers and miners. The squidlike aliens wouldn’t know how to mine the ore; they needed the Minith for that.
Benson counted the barracks buildings and did some rough calculations. If they were manned at capacity, there could be close to a thousand soldiers, miners, and support personnel located on the base. If all, or even a majority, were Minith, the ten Shiale Rangers currently on the planet were more than outmatched.
All around the mine, the forest loomed, and he could make out the various levels that it offered. The view reminded Benson of their first real look at the forest, as seen from the carrier hovering above the ocean. He wondered how many openings like this one there might be on the planet. For all he knew this one and the much smaller version that had been created when the Agate crashed might be the only two. It boggled the mind. He was used to open space, both on Earth and on Telgora. He hadn’t realized how much he’d miss seeing the sky until the moment it opened up in front of them. It felt like a breath of fresh air.
Stranded Justice (The Justice Trilogy Series Book 2) Page 7