Project U.L.F.

by Stuart Clark

  The five bullets Kit had fired had glanced off the animal’s armor plating, doing nothing more than leaving five white scratches on the shiny black exterior. The creature was not harmed, but it was irritated and it turned upon its attacker, executing a dance on eight of its legs to wheel around on Kit.

  It snatched him up in one of its pincers and Kit dropped his weapon, trying to pry the great claw open with both of his hands, grimacing with the effort or the pain.

  Par and Byron now joined the others in the clearing. Par, between Wyatt and Kit, instantly lit up his flame-thrower and shot a plume of fire towards the midriff of the creature. This too appeared to do nothing but irritate the animal, and it began to turn back towards Par.

  Wyatt watched in horror as the animal slowly came about. Par, he realized, was not going to release the trigger. He was going to torch this animal or die himself, such was his determination. If he continued on this course of action then Kit would be brought directly into the firing line. Par would set Kit alight.

  “No!” Wyatt screamed again and ran across the clearing, kicking the muzzle of Par’s weapon skyward, shooting the finger of flame upward. The gun flew from Par’s hand, over his shoulder, and landed in the cane behind him.

  The creature was now advancing on the pair of them, waving Kit in the air before it. Wyatt turned and fired at its eyes, bursting two of the orbs with lucky shots. The animal squealed in pain and backed away from them.

  Across the clearing Byron raised his weapon and fired at the animals behind. Wyatt heard the pop and saw Byron dive for cover and he knew what was coming next.

  The grenade exploded and Wyatt briefly saw the animal’s rear end lift with the force before both he and Par were thrown backwards into the cane. As he struggled back to his feet, he caught a glimpse of the creature, injured and bloodied, charging away from them, dragging one of its rear limbs behind, the appendage damaged and useless.

  To his relief, Wyatt could see that in fleeing it had released Kit. The big man was writhing around in pain in the middle of the clearing. Then he turned and saw Chris bent over Alex, shaking his friend in an attempt to get a response. Any response.

  He ran to where they were and bent next to Chris, lifting Alex’s wrist and feeling for a pulse. He let the hand drop. “There’s nothing you can do for him,” he said, his head dropping, “I’m sorry.”

  “Alex,” Chris sobbed, “Can you hear me…? Talk to me!”

  “He’s dead, Chris,” Wyatt said quietly, laying a hand on the youngster’s arm.

  “Alex, Alex,” Chris still shook his fallen friend.

  Wyatt obviously wasn’t getting through to him. “Medic!” he shouted.

  Chris looked at him as if he was a stranger.

  “Medic,” he said again. “This man is dead and we have another person in need of emergency medical attention. There is nothing you can do here. Now go!”

  “Yes, sir!” Chris’ eyes welled with tears. He jumped to his feet and ran to where Kit lay.

  “Jesus,” Wyatt said quietly. “Why, Alex? Why couldn’t you just wait?” He stood and turned to find Byron looking at him from across the carpet of broken cane. Wyatt just shook his head.

  After examining Kit, Chris found that he had three broken ribs and acute bruising to his upper torso. He had literally had the life squeezed out of him by the creature’s viselike grip. Chris tightly bandaged his upper body to minimize any movement and the discomfort associated with it. When he got his breath back, Kit was fit to walk.

  * * * * *

  “Come on, kid,” Byron said, gently laying a hand on Chris’ shoulder. “You have to let him go.”

  Chris said nothing, just nodded, knowing that what Byron said was true. He took a last look at Alex’s face and then zipped up the body bag, moving away to let Byron and Par pick it up and carry it into the Santa Maria.

  “Look’s like your rookie’s gonna need more training,” Kit said to Wyatt.

  “What?” Wyatt frowned.

  “Your rookie. He needs to get better at this stuff. Can’t be dying on every expedition he goes on.” Kit began to laugh, and then his laugh became a cough and he stopped himself, holding his chest because of the pain.

  Chris turned on him, tears still rolling down his face. “Alex was my friend. Don’t you understand that?”

  “Yeah. Was.” Kit began to laugh again.

  The youngster looked at him aghast, then ran into the ship.

  Wyatt remained with Kit outside the Santa Maria’s entrance. The pair of them sat in silence for a while. “You’re unbelievable,” Wyatt said. “You don’t change, do you, Kit?”

  “Well, it’s nice to know you can rely on some things.” the big man said, smiling.

  Wyatt’s face became a mask of anger. “I should have let your sorry hide burn when I had the chance!” he snarled.

  “But you didn’t, did you?” Kit said smugly. “No. You’re team leader, which means you’re supposed to look out for us. Look after us. And that’s what you did. You don’t change either, Wyatt. Not a bit!”

  Wyatt looked away. It bothered him that Kit knew him so well. That he knew that Wyatt was duty-bound to protect them.

  He stood and wandered around the other side of the ship, leaving Kit to his own company. He had dealt with enough already today. He could do without this conversation right now, especially given the frame of mind Kit was in. He found Bobby comforting Kate, who too was crying, still mourning the loss of Alex.

  “Get her out of here, will you?” he asked.

  Kate looked up, pale streaks on her dirtied face betraying the tracks of her tears. “Do you have no feelings at all?” she asked, frowning at him.

  Bobby grasped her arm. “Er…Kate, don’t you think…”

  “No, Bobby, I’m sick of it!” Kate shouted, standing and shrugging off the hand. “I’m not putting up with it any more! All through this trip I’ve been patronized, and…and now, just because I’m crying…because someone happens to have been killed!” She almost screamed the last word, “What…? That’s somehow a problem for you, is it? Well I won’t have it! Someone died out there today!” she choked, her eyes filling again, “Or didn’t you notice that?”

  “Yeah. I noticed that,” Wyatt said quietly. He stopped and thought for a moment. Then he exploded. “And yes, I do have feelings! I’ve seen more people die than you can begin to imagine, and all of them friends or colleagues of mine. The reasons behind their deaths are numerous. Incompetence on their own or someone else’s part; accidents; foolishness—like today—but whatever the reason, it never gets easier. It never gets easy to say goodbye. You just get hardened to it and you distance yourself from people so you never have to get close, so you never get hurt from losing someone, because you never know if tomorrow is going to be your or their last day. You think I don’t care?” he pointed accusingly at her, “God forbid there should ever come a day when I don’t care.” He was exasperated at the mere suggestion. “My main priority is the safety of my team and getting us all back home. Alex was out of line and paid the ultimate price. I can’t be responsible for his death. Now I don’t care who you are back on Earth but we’re not here to cater to your every need.”

  “Well, do you think I asked to be dumped in this hell hole?” Kate shouted at him.

  Wyatt was taken aback by her ferocity. It was the first time he had seen her mad. No, not just mad, really pissed off.

  “If I’d known this is routine I’d never have come!”

  “Well do you think we asked to have you…” Wyatt began, and then he stopped, finally registering what she had said. “Wha…? What do you mean, ‘routine?’ What are you talking about?” Wyatt asked, the puzzlement dissipating his anger.

  “Well this is a routine mission,” Kate said, calming, wiping away a tear with the back of a shaking hand. “That’s why I was assigned to it. Because it would be safe. Alan Chambers, a friend of yours, I believe, checked out all the details. He put me on your crew. He also said you’d look a
fter me.” She spat out the last sentence as though it were worthless.

  Wyatt nodded in recognition of Alan’s name. He stood, thoughtful for a moment. “If Alan checked out the details, do you have any idea where this ‘routine’ mission was supposed to be going?” he asked her.

  “Ionen Prime.”

  Wyatt laughed. It was wicked. Mocking.

  “What’s so funny?” Kate demanded.

  “Does this look like Ionen Prime to you?” he said.

  “How the fucking hell should I know!” Kate yelled, her temper flaring again.

  She had a point.

  * * * * *

  Wyatt ran through the darkened labyrinth of the Santa Maria’s corridors. He had instructed Bobby to drop Kate off at the mess room, see that she was comfortable and then meet him on the bridge.

  The doors to the bridge slid away and he stormed through, going straight to one of the many consoles on the wall. “Where are we, Computer?” Wyatt asked.

  “The Santa Maria is situated on a ridge…”

  “No!” Wyatt interrupted, impatient. “I mean which planet are we on?”

  “We are on a planet 2.7 light years beyond Centari Red 603. Star system is unclassified. Planet is of an undesignated type.” It was a standard reply for a U.L.F. expedition. Lots of unknowns.

  “Okay,” Wyatt said. “Tell me about life support and fuel systems.”

  “The Santa Maria has enough provisions on board to support a crew of eight for one month outside of cryosleep. Generator power currently at six per cent. Solid fuel levels minimal.”

  Wyatt stopped, stupefied. “Repeat the fuel stats again,” he said.

  “Generator power six per cent. Solid fuel levels minimal,” the reply came with the same cold objectivity.

  The horrifying realization hit him hard. His knees buckled and he clambered his way over to a chair, pulling himself onto it. He had guessed as much from what Kate had said but he had pushed that possibility to the back of his mind, not wanting to believe it. Now, though, the facts behind the frightening truth were revealed—they did not have enough power to get home.

  Suddenly, all the pieces fell into place. Mannheim was behind it all. That was why there had been no red tape, why the mission had been organized and launched so quickly. That was why Wyatt had been told not to go into work that week, so he would not talk to anyone about it, arouse suspicion. That was why Robert had shadowed him at the moon-base, why he was not given a minute alone with anyone. That was why they had been given the Santa Maria, an old ship that would soon be scrapped anyway. He thought back to the day’s earlier episode and the instant when Kit’s weapon jammed. They had probably been sent away with a load of old, faulty equipment as well. That was why he had never met his mixed-up team. If you were going to send someone to his doom, why not send others that you wanted to get rid of with him? All the signs were there and he had overlooked each and every one of them.

  Wyatt held his head in his hands. What a fool I’ve been, he thought. Caught up in a trap far more elaborate than I’m used to using.

  “Computer, given our original generator power, which destinations could we have made a return trip to from the moon-base?”

  “Numerous destinations. Specify.”

  “Ionen Prime, for example?”

  “Affirmative.”

  Clever, Wyatt thought. The whole thing had been billed as a mission to Ionen Prime and on paper had looked exactly like that. No one had suspected a thing.

  His thoughts went to the others then. Why had they all been sent with him to face certain death? Bobby and Byron were very good friends of his and would back him in anything, perhaps Mannheim saw them as banner bearers for Wyatt’s cause, equally as dangerous to him as Wyatt himself. Byron was also an old-timer and getting near retirement age. It would save the IZP a whole load of money to do away with him. Could Mannheim be that heartless? Probably.

  Kit? Well, who wouldn’t want to be rid of Kit? Alex? With no ULF experience at all he would be no great loss. He was expendable. Probably picked at random from this year’s qualifying trappers. Chris, like Byron, would be costing the department money, but in a different sense. If he had failed his trapping exams and was still around the IZP then that probably meant he was intending to re-apply. It wasn’t cheap to train a new recruit. Chris was a victim of his own failure. Par? Par was a mystery. Maybe that was the whole point of him being there. To sow the seed of doubt should Wyatt find out the truth. If there was no reason to send Par away, then why was he there? Maybe they hadn’t been set up after all.

  And Kate. Poor Kate. A victim of circumstance and Alan’s good will. Wyatt’s heart went out to her now. He had to get them home. If not for himself, then for the rest of his team, and if not for his team, then for her alone. But how?

  The Santa Maria, being an old ship, had not been fitted with a transmitting radio beacon, so there was no way she would be detected by a passing craft, but, the old ships did have their own signaling devices.

  They were fitted with small probes which could be fired out of the roof of the craft and launched through the upper atmosphere, into a stationary orbit above the planet’s surface. From there they would begin transmitting a distress signal, indicating the ship’s presence on the planet and pinpointing its location. It was the next best thing.

  “Launch distress probe,” Wyatt ordered, hurriedly checking instruments and displays.

  “Negative,” came the reply.

  Wyatt stopped. “Negative? What do you mean negative? That’s an order!”

  “Negative. Cannot launch probe.”

  “Why not?”

  “No probe to launch.”

  Christ, they’ve even stripped the probe out of the ship.

  “Shit!” he shouted, slamming both fists down on the console in front of him. As he did so, Bobby walked through the doors behind him. She rushed over to him, putting an arm around his shoulders.

  “Wyatt, what’s wrong?”

  He swung his chair around to face her. His face was inches from hers.

  “We’ve been dumped, Bobby. Drop-kicked into oblivion.”

  She laughed half-heartedly at the absurdity of what he was saying, and then, when the humor was not reciprocated, her face dropped. “What? What do you mean?” she said, frowning.

  “I mean we’ve been sent away to die.”

  “What! By who? Mannheim?”

  “The Devil,” he said.

  CHAPTER

  9

  Wyatt broke the news to the rest of the team the following morning before they suited up.

  “You’re shitting me, right?” It was Chris. “Tell me this is all some sick joke.”

  “I wish I was,” Wyatt said. “But our fuel levels are minimal. We simply don’t have enough power to get home.”

  “There must be some mistake,” Byron said. “Have you checked to be sure the computer isn’t malfunctioning? It is an old ship.”

  Wyatt gave his friend an old-fashioned look. “Do you think I wouldn’t have thought of that? I’ve run a level three diagnostic on all operational systems. The computer checks out okay. This is the only other explanation.”

  He continued to relate to them all the facts he knew. The way he had been treated since the mission’s inception. The details that had been conveniently left out. The probe missing from the ship. It made for a convincing argument. If any of them were still in any doubt about the real truth, they were swayed when Wyatt recounted what he believed to be the mission brief, that of the trip being part of the IZP’s anniversary celebrations. None of the others had even heard of this; they believed it was a standard U.L.F. expedition. When he finished, the others all looked at him in silence.

  “Well?” he said. “Does anyone have any suggestions?”

  “Suggestions for what?” Kit asked. “If what you are saying is true then the only thing we can do is sit and wait for our supplies to run out. Then we die. Humph! The rookie was the lucky one.”

  “Don’t talk l
ike that!” Kate snapped. Kit glared at her.

  “Stop it! Both of you! I asked for suggestions, not an argument.”

  “There must be something we can do.” Kate added.

  “She’s right,” Chris said. “We must be able to do something. We can’t just give up.”

  “I suggest to begin with, we let the animals go,” Bobby said. “It’s pointless keeping them knowing what we know now and it’ll give us time to think. Right now we’re all reeling with the news. I think it’ll focus our minds…calm us down a little.”

  Others muttered their agreement. Wyatt nodded in appreciation of the sensible suggestion. Bobby had come through for him again.

  * * * * *

  They collected their weapons and Wyatt voiced his fear of the equipment being faulty too. They decided to check their guns. The quad-sys guns were so called because they had four firing systems: they could be a semi-automatic rifle interchangeable with a flame-thrower, the change made by simply rotating the barrel, they could be a grenade launcher or they could fire nets like the one Wyatt had used the previous day.

  Of the rifles, Bobby’s, Byron’s and Par’s were fully functional, Kit’s consistently jammed after he had fired off five rounds and Wyatt’s would not fire at all, some damage near the clip insert site preventing the bullets being loaded into the firing chamber. Byron, Par and Wyatt already knew that their flame-throwers worked, they had all had cause to use them since arriving, but neither Bobby’s nor Kit’s would fire, even though both of their weapons had full reservoirs of gas mounted on their tops.

  All five weapons would fire the nets that Wyatt had used so effectively yesterday, but since their guns would only be used for defense in the foreseeable future, this knowledge was not particularly helpful or encouraging.

  They did not check their grenade launchers since it was assumed that if there was a problem with them, then it would be unlikely that the weapons would still be intact. If an armed grenade got jammed in the barrel, then the weapon and its wielder would not be around to pay testimony to the fault, both being wiped out in the resulting explosion. Also, the grenades were in short supply and Wyatt was loath to waste five of them just checking the firing mechanisms of their guns. They decided that in the unlikely event that a grenade needed to be used, either Byron or Kit, both of whose grenade launchers had been demonstrated to be in working order, would fire it.