by Nate Johnson
“What about us?” Professor Combs said, as if daring him to assign him a crappy job.
“Combs, you take two people and explore up river, I’ll take two and go down. No further than one mile or one hour, whichever comes first. Then, we come back here and compare notes. Professor Creshington,” he said to the woman before Combs could comment. He did notice that Combs nodded to Robert Jenkins and Almud Caruthers, the two toadies that had been at his beck and call since getting underway.
Catching the woman professor’s eye, Erik said, “I would like you to find us something to eat from inside the tree line. I need you to take two people and scour every plant, root, berry, everything and find us something we can eat. Preferably, something there’s a lot of.”
He raised an eyebrow, waiting for her concession, and only relaxed when the woman nodded and tapped Candace and Jasmine to help.
“It’s a start, but we’ll have to spread out and cover a lot more ground if we don’t find anything,” Professor Creshington said.
Turning to Nora’s roommates, Brenda and Jo, he said, “I need you two to collect all of the firewood, every scrap of it between here and the tree line. Stack it in front of the shuttle. Get the others to help when they finish up. We need one big pile. I’ve got a tarp in the back with the tools that you need to spread over it when you’re done. We need to keep it dry. Do you understand?
Both girls nodded, but Jo's mouth pouted as she said, “I’m hungry, when do we eat?”
“This afternoon,” Erik answered, then turned to Nora and Brenda, “Either of you got a problem going with me? If so, I’m sure we can find someone to switch.”
The girls vigorously shook their heads. Nora’s expression remained blank and non-judgmental, but he knew inside she wanted to slap the crap out of him. Chuckling to himself, he headed for the river.
Combs and his group had reached the edge and were turning left to head up river. They’d picked up thick tree trunks and were carrying them over their shoulders like cavemen clubs.
Erik looked around at the scattered broken bits of wood, the shuttle had really done a number on things. He picked out two relatively strait shafts and quickly whittled the ends to sharp points. His spacer tool was designed to cut through ceramics, woods didn’t put up much of a fight.
Handing a spear to each of the girls, he headed for the tree line.
Chapter Eight
Erik was starting to get used to his stomach rumbling all the time. It had that empty, gurgling sound like a pot left on the fire for too long.
He was pretty sure the Kairns could hear it too. The deer like creatures with longer than normal necks and spirally horns grazed on the plain before him. He’d take a tentative step towards them, bent, trying to use the grass for cover, and they’d take two steps away.
He grit his teeth in frustration. Gripping his metal spear, he’d created out of the shuttle’s seat rails, he waited, holding his breath for that special moment. Seeing his chance, he jumped up and started running towards them. Each of the big brown animals bolted in a different direction, jumping and weaving as they went. The swish of grass the only sound.
A young buck made the poor choice to cut across Erik’s path. He slid to a stop and let the spear fly. It was his best shot ever, on target, with the right distance, a thing of the purest joy. But, the Kairn wasn’t there.
They never were where they were supposed to be. They zigged and zagged too fast. The spear passed through the air space vacated by the big animal and thunked into the ground, it’s point burying itself inches into the soft loam.
Erik ran up and grabbed the weapon only to see the last Kairn skip out of view. It would take him hours to track them down. All for another useless shot. Instead, he turned for home.
Another night of what they called Creshington beans. Thank God the local trees produced a pod that contained a few beans. The damn things tasted like wet chalk and had the nutritional value of wall paper. But, it was the only thing they had found so far. At least it took the edge off of the hunger pangs for a few hours.
Maybe he should take out a big party again. They had tried that the second day, but they made more noise than a Friday night at Bella’s. Nobody could get anywhere near the Kairns, and there had been two sprained ankles and a torn thumb ligament.
He leaned on his spear as his eyes scanned for movement. They needed protein, his stomach gurgled at the thought of juicy meet sliding down his gullet. Even a lizard or snake, maybe a bird. Something to give those damn beans some flavor. He poked his stick into a hole. Then up into the overhead branches. But nothing moved. Dejectedly he turned for home.
The air had that musty, moist smell it got most afternoons when the wind changed and started blowing in from the coast. The sun baked down, and he whipped the sweat from his eyes for the hundredth time that day.
As he walked, Erik continued to scan his surroundings. Making sure to stop and look behind him, for anything that might be creeping up. They hadn’t seen any big predators, not directly, but there had been signs. Fuzzy foot prints in the soft sand. A big blood spot he’d found yesterday. Something had been killed, then drug off to be eaten elsewhere.
But, the place was empty. So alien, yet so acceptable. It seemed to speak to his inner being, everything was how it should be, no matter how different.
His wandering thoughts were interrupted by a blood tingling scream off in the far distance. A high pitched wail sent shivers down his back. It sounded like a cross between a dying cow and a Valdorian Mountain Lion in heat.
As it tailed off, he knew that animal had gasped out its last sound and announced to the world its own death. He shuddered and began walking a little faster back to camp.
The piercing glares of anger and hate surprised him when he walked in. Everyone’s eyes honed onto his empty hands. He had failed again. Their disappointment was palatable. Maybe his dad had been right?
He felt like yelling at them to get off their butts and find their own food. He was the one burning calories, hiking across God’s good earth, while they sat around the fire and groused about how hungry they were and how they wished they had a steak or a Valdorian Burger. But, he held his tongue, screaming at them wouldn’t help.
He felt light headed and a little out of breath, as he squatted next to the fire, using his spear for balance.
“No luck, I take it?” Nora asked, her eyes narrowed in concern. She was seated on a log on the other side of the fire. Shucking beans into the pot.
Eric shook his head, amazed again at what Jonathan had built out of some aluminum scavenged from a communication panel. The thing worked great, and they could use about a dozen more.
He shook his head to answer Nora’s question and stared into the fire.
“The great hunter has returned,” Combs said. Smiling, as he walked up to the fire. The man stopped and folded his arms over his chest. “No food?” he said as he smirked.
It took every bit of Erik’s self-control to stop from standing up and slamming his fist down the guy’s throat. Instead, he looked at the crowd of students around the fire. The looked like a bunch of raga muffins, drawn faces streaked with dirt.
God, it’s only been three days, and they already look like a lost cause. Taking a deep breath, he stood up and ignored Combs. “I’ve got an idea I want to try tomorrow. I’ll need about four or five volunteers….”
A scream tore through the twilight. So different from the one on the plains, this was all too human. That blood curdling, heart stopping human squeal of pain and fear. Erik was up and ran before he knew where he was going.
Someone was down at the tree line, being dragged by what passed for a monster in most people’s worse night mares. Some kind of a weird cross of a hyena and a werewolf with a large dose of baboon thrown in.
The creature had high, wide shoulders that sloped down to a narrow waste. Long gangly limbs ending in wide paws with some kind of opposable thumb. The creature’s hands gripped both ankles, dragging the woman across the
ground.
A part of his deep brain stem yelled at the otherness of the creature. This was an enemy that screamed at his core.
Erik dropped his spear to his waist and charged like a lancer of old.
The creature may have never seen a human before, but it recognized danger when it saw it. Dropping his prize, he stood up on his hind legs then jumped aside at the last momentum. It swiped at this annoying intruder as Erik ran by.
Erik recognized his mistake as he was making it. At least the creature had dropped his prey.
Digging his heels into the soft loam he shifted his weight and slid to a stop before twisting and facing the animal. The thing’s breath smelled like a buzzard’s guts. Huge white canines dripped yellow saliva and looked like they could tear a large Viridian jumbo into small shreds. It was covered in some kind of leathery gray skin that moved over a well-muscled body.
Erik swallowed hard as alarms went off in every part of his body. This devil was probably the apex predator around here, he had no reason to fear a man armed with a puny stick.
The animal glanced at his dropped prey and then back at his attacker. Seeming to make up its mind, it scrunched and prepared to leap. Erik didn’t give it a chance, but yelled and poked at it with his spear, thrusting at its face while he stepped between it and its victim.
He didn’t dare take his eyes off the animal, as they began to circle. He felt something dripping on his side and realized that damn thing had gotten him on that first pass. He pressed an elbow into his side to try and stop the blood. He knew the pain would hit him soon, once the adrenalin wore off.
The creature lunged, then shifted to try and grab his victim on the ground. Erik yelled again and charged, but this time, he was ready. When the creature jumped aside, Erik adjusted his aim and caught it in the haunch.
It was a glancing blow, but the creature yelped then tumbled out of the way, coming back up on his feet ready to attack. But, it froze for a moment, its eyes focusing over Erik’s shoulder, then shifted to look into Erik’s eyes. Only an intelligent being could hate that much, he thought.
Then, it turned and loped away with a slight limp. Within moments it was around the edge of the tree line and out of sight.
Erik slumped, resting his hands on his knees sucking for air. He could hear the others running up behind him.
Someone gasped and yelled “Professor Creshington!” Erik looked over at the woman on the ground, a gaping hole in her shoulder. Blood was slowly pulsing from the wound.
The group looked like lost sheep. Their pale faces and wide eyes letting him know just how shocked they were. And, realized he wasn’t far behind.
“She’s alive,” Brenda said as she knelt next to the Professor. Jo joined her placing a cloth over the gaping hole. For the first time, he started to relax, his knees began to shake. He had to sit down. He reached out and handed Jonathan his spear and said, “You’re on watch,” then collapsed.
.o0o.
“What was that?” someone asked. Erik tried to focus, but everything was fuzzy.
“A Yark,” James said, “they’re descended from wild wolves and only eat fish on Thursdays.” He looked at the questioner as if they had come from another planet. “How the hell should any of us know what that was?”
“Whatever it was, I don’t want to see one again,” Somebody else said.
.o0o.
Nora dropped down next to him. The picture of him flying across the ground and into the monster wouldn’t leave her mind. She reached over and gently raised the shredded cloth at his side, exposing three nasty gashes over his ribs.
“We need to get you up to the shuttle, although it’d probably be smarter to bring the first aid kit down here, especially if you’re still feeling faint.”
Erik shook his head and got his hands under him to stand up. He wobbled when he was on his feet again, and she reached out to help hold him up.
“How long since you ate?” she asked.
“Three days,” Jonathan said. “I’ve been watching,” he added in answer to their questioning look. “He’s been putting his calorie bars back and only taking a spoonful of Creshington beans.”
Nora raised her eyebrows at him as if he was a little kid who’d hidden his broccoli.
“We need you with us, no more of that macho stuff, you hear me?” she said, gripping his arm and leading him to the shuttle. Several of the other students had already picked the Professor up and were carrying her towards the shuttle.
She got him settled into his chair, and while the others worked on the Professor, she had him lower his coveralls so she could get to the cuts on his side. She couldn’t stop staring at the scars on his Torso.
He caught her perplexed look and said, “Spacers don’t erase their scars, we like to keep them around for the memories.”
“How did you get them?” she asked in a timid voice.
He looked at her as if pondering her reliability and seemed to come to a decision. Looking down at his own chest, he touched a crescent shaped scar high on his left side.
“I got this one in a decompression blow out on the Silverton a couple of years ago. The one on my arm was from a bar fight in Tulan.”
“What about this one?” she said, reaching out and lightly touching a square shaped deformity over his lower ribs on his right side. She felt him shiver at her touch, as a slight electric buzz traveled up her arm.
“That one?” his eyes drifted off into another world, then seemed to be pulled back to their common reality. “That one was as present from my dad’s belt, I’d mouthed off one time to many.”
Again, his eyes drifted away. She wanted to ask more. A thousand questions were needed, but now was not the time. She thought of her own father, suddenly he didn’t seem so bad. His complete lack of attention and cold indifference might not be the worst thing in the world.
Shaking her head at the eternal idiocy of men, she applied a healing salve to the wound and covered it with a bandage. It didn’t look too bad and should be healed by the morning. Before he climbed back into his coveralls, she grabbed a quick peek at the bird tattoo on his neck. It was drawn like it was standing on his shoulder, its talons gripping his skin and long brown tail dropping down over his back. It was very fascinating.
“Another memory?” she asked, indicating the tattoo.
He laughed and looked over his shoulder. “You wouldn’t believe me if I told you. Maybe when you’re older.”
She snorted and put away the rest of the first aid supplies. “Yah, like you’re so ancient. How old are you? Twenty-five standard years?”
“Twenty Three,” he said.
“I’ll be nineteen next month,” she said.
“It’s not how long, but how you spend them, that makes all the difference,” he said with a smile.
She snorted again and turned away. How much this man didn’t know about her experiences could fill three data flexes.
.o0o.
Slowly stretching his stiff muscles, Erik climbed out of the chair the next morning and looked back over the crowd.
Most of them were sleeping. Brenda was bent over Professor Creshington. She looked back at him with a sad frown and gently shook her head. His gut lurched, it hadn’t looked that bad last night.
His stiffness forgotten, he quietly moved to the back of the shuttle. The Professor looked grayer than a goose, her normally ruddy complexion was mottled, her facial muscles slack in repose.
He raised an eyebrow at Brenda, asking her for a diagnoses.
The young woman looked down at her Professor and then back at Erik, a huge tear trapped at the edge of her eye.
“I don’t know what to do,” she said, her voice catching. “I bandaged her as well as I could, but we don’t have any medicine, not really. And the Nanos aren’t fixing her fast enough.”
Erik looked at the young woman and instinctively reached out and wrapped his arm around her shoulder for a quick hug.
“Have you gotten any sleep?” he asked. She shook he
r head no, biting the inside of her lip.
“Okay, you grab a few hours of rest, I’ll get someone else to take over.” Giving her another hug he returned to the front of the shuttle and asked Dania to watch the Professor.
He opened the shuttle’s door and was once again slapped with the green, humid scent of life. A feeling of primordial awareness settled over him.
Something chattered off in the trees, a high pitched, warbling sound. Insects were buzzing, and one of the small leather winged ‘birds’ circled in the distance. Another glorious day, he thought, then shuddered when his eyes were drawn to the tree line, as his thoughts drifted to the injured Professor.
They would have to build a fence. Something to keep the Yarks away. And, like that, the beautiful day was gone, to be replaced by a dozen jobs, all of them priority number one.
Stretching, trying to loosen up his side, he ignored the wound and started collecting tree trunks. The forest was unlike anything on earth, or any other planet for that matter. Each tree was only a foot to a foot and a half from each other with a solid canopy about nine feet high. Without any branches until the very top, each trunk was four to five inches in diameter and would make perfect fence posts. The shuttle had shattered thousands of these trees when it crashed.
Stooping to retrieve his third one, he felt the wound on his side open up.
“Damn,” he muttered to himself, then bent and got another.
Slinging them over his shoulder, he walked to the corner of the tree line. His eyes shot back and forth looking for predators, first in close, then farther out with each sweep. The sun was well up, and the first tendrils of heat were already starting to drift up across the plain. It was going to be a long hard day, then his stomach rumbled, reminding him just how long, and just how hard.
“What you doing?” Billy Caldron yelled, as he and Gene walked down from the shuttle.
Erik dropped his load, then looked back and forth between the corners of the tree line. “Trying to figure out some way to keep the Yarks out.”
The two boys paused when they reached him and evaluated the situation. “It shouldn’t be that hard,” Gene said.