Project U.L.F.

by Stuart Clark

  * * * * *

  Kate could not tell what it was that woke her but she guessed it was the sound of the storm. The inside of the cave flashed white, lighting it up in a brilliant frozen image which seemed burnt into her mind. Outside lightning arced across the sky like a silver whip and the crack followed shortly afterwards. She sat herself up and spotted Kit’s dark form seated on a large rock near the mouth of the cave. He was turned away from her, gazing out at the rain which still fell in sheets outside. The tip of his cigarette glowed in the darkness as he inhaled on it.

  Leaning back on her elbows, she took a quick look around her. Wyatt was asleep right next to her, wrapped up tightly in his blanket with his back to her. She wanted to cuddle up to him, even though they were under cover, the chill in the air was substantial and they could keep warm by staying close to each other. She thought that Wyatt might misinterpret the gesture and that he would do well to do so, since warmth was not the only reason she wanted to be close to him. She wondered whether finding him next to her was also indicative of his feelings towards her. Wyatt had taken first watch and so had chosen to come and sleep next to her after the others were asleep. She wondered if he was aware of her growing feelings towards him, or whether he even thought about things like that. She lay awake and wondered about a lot of things before she drifted back to sleep, and all the while the storm raged on outside.

  * * * * *

  He could hear his breathing. Ragged. Labored. He pushed away leafy fronds as best he could but others still managed to spring at him and slap him in the face or catch on his clothing, clawing at him, trying to slow him down. He did not feel the scratches they made for he was afraid. He was running for his life. The forest was a jungle. There was no sense of direction. Everywhere he looked was the same. Leafy arms blocking the way, trying to hold him back. He pressed on, running, ducking and dodging the branches, clearing ditches in single great bounds until he could run no more. As he slowed to a walk the bushes to his right parted and the thing lunged at him, jaws gaping in an unearthly howl and the last thing he saw was the teeth. Those teeth.

  Wyatt jumped awake. Despite the cold he was covered in sweat. He sat up and a dark figure near the mouth of the cave turned towards him. In the darkness he could just make out that it was Par and the other man was frowning at him, wondering what it was that had disturbed him. Wyatt brought up a hand to let him know that everything was all right. He laid himself back down, turning onto his other side to face Kate. Her face was pale against her black hair and the dark blanket, and she slept peacefully. He let his eyes wander over her features. She looked to him as if she were made of porcelain. Beautiful yet delicate…and she was delicate. A delicate thing thrown into a cruel, unforgiving, dangerous world. He had a feeling of overwhelming sorrow for her, an ache inside of him that ate at him. It was an ache composed of something else as well, but it was an emotion that he had not felt in such a long time that he could not identify it for what it really was.

  * * * * *

  The next morning the sky was clear. It was hard to believe that it had been covered in storm clouds just the night before, but the ground was moist to the touch and the air smelt clean but tainted with a hint of damp soil. Tell-tale marks of the heavy rain from the previous night.

  Wyatt stood at the cave’s entrance silhouetted against the sky. “Today’s the day,” he announced. He surveyed the scene outside. He stepped back into the cave, cradling the water bottles they had left out in the night in his arms, passing them to each of them in turn. Kate looked at him questioningly when he handed her one.

  “I took the liberty of putting yours outside with the others. It seemed pointless to waste the rainwater.”

  She quickly checked her hip pouch where her flask had been buckled the night before; it was indeed gone.

  Wyatt moved on to Chris. “Well, looks like this place wasn’t home to anything after all, then,” he said, handing the youngster his bottle.

  “No, I guess not.”

  “I’d say it was,” Kit’s voice came from behind them.

  “Why, what is it?”

  “Look at this.”

  Everybody scrambled to the front of the cave where Kit now stood looking up into the sky. “Do you see them?” he said, pointing upwards.

  The spotless sky now had a blemish. A single dark cloud that moved swiftly, even though there was not a breath of wind.

  “But that’s just a…”

  “No, it isn’t. I’ve been watching it for the last minute or so and it’s heading straight for us.”

  “Well they could be flying straight over us, whatever they are,” Wyatt offered.

  “Nah,” Kit said, shaking his head. “You haven’t been out for a while, have you?” Wyatt resented the remark but shook his head all the same. Kit, still with his eyes on the sky didn’t see it but carried on anyway. “Their flight pattern…” he trailed off, frowning and shaking his head, unable to put into words what he had observed. “Nah,” he said again. “This is where they’re headed.” He turned to them and said, “Time to move.”

  They packed as quickly as they could, each of them stuffing items into their packs in no particular order while keeping a wary eye on the sky outside of the cave. The darkness grew like an inkblot, black slowly spreading over the pale pink backdrop.

  “How long have we got?” Byron asked without lifting his head.

  “A minute, maybe, tops,” Kit answered.

  “Well, then, let’s get out of here,” Par said, hoisting his pack onto his shoulders at the news and gathering the rest of his belongings in his arms.

  “Can someone give me a hand with Bobby? Like now?” Chris said, but Par and Kit were already making their way out and Byron was struggling to get his pack up and onto his shoulders.

  “Here, I’ll do it,” Kate said, dropping everything and scrambling over to join him. “Come on!” They moved out of the cave as fast as they could, carrying Bobby between them. Wyatt dashed past them to collect one of their belongings and follow them out, with Furball on his heels. Bobby moaned in her feverish sleep. Outside they made a quick left turn and rushed along at the base of the scree until they were a safe distance from the cave’s entrance, where they gathered and dumped everything in a heap on the floor. Kit, Byron and Par already had their weapons drawn and trained on the approaching mass in case it should take more than a passing interest in them. What they would do exactly should they need to use their weapons they had no idea, three guns against a flock of hundreds seemed ridiculously hopeless odds, but the three men took some comfort from the heavy objects in their hands. Wyatt ran up to join them, panting as he dropped Chris’ heavy medical pack to the ground and glancing skyward at the approaching hordes.

  “My stuff!” Kate suddenly yelled, and before he could say or do anything, she was past him and running back to the cave.

  “Kate wait! No!” he shouted, and then Par was past him too, running swiftly, catching and then passing her and disappearing back into the hole in the rock. Kate stopped short, right by the mouth of the cave, peering in to check on Par and then glancing anxiously back at the sky.

  “Hurry!” she shouted into him and her plea was repeated as her voice echoed away into the blackness.

  Par found the pack quickly and, realizing he did not have time to put it on properly, began manhandling it back to the entrance. He knew it was a mistake as soon as he pulled it up into his arms. Given the size of the rucksack he could no longer see his feet and as he began to make his way back across the rocky ground, he twisted his ankle and fell awkwardly. Within seconds Kate was next to him, helping him to his feet and checking that he was all right. He assured her he was, he had not done himself serious injury, but as they turned to leave they were plunged into darkness as the mouth of the cave became gorged with the winged things from outside.

  “Get down!” Par yelled and he fell to the floor that he had picked himself up from not seconds before, dragging Kate down with him. He pulled her close to him a
nd covered her head with his arm and hand as scores of the creatures screeched and flapped their way past them. Some were low enough to brush by them and Kate screamed in fright as wings beat against her and claws inadvertently caught at her clothing. The noise became deafening as more and more of the creatures flew in, adding to the noise of their predecessors whose sound now echoed off the cave walls. It seemed to go on forever and then, as suddenly as the throng had appeared it was gone and the last of the stragglers disappeared into the darkness and the deeper recesses of the cave.

  The pair of them lay there for a minute longer, too afraid to lift their heads for fear that another flock of the mysterious birds, if that’s what they were, would come rushing past them, and then they heard their names being called.

  Slowly Par pushed himself away from Kate and looked down at her. “Are you okay?” he asked her.

  “Yes, I think so,” she said, and then, “No. No, I’m not.”

  “Why what is it? Are you hurt?” His eyes hurriedly looked her over.

  “No,” she managed. “It’s this place,” she blurted, and her eyes filled with tears. “What is it about this place? If we’re not cooking or freezing then we’re fighting just to stay alive. I don’t think I can take any more of it, Par,” she finished quietly. “I just want out of here.”

  “Hey, don’t cry,” he said, giving her a quick hug. “You’re doing just fine. I wish I’d coped as well as you have on my first expedition.” She stopped sniveling and looked at him, stunned by the revelation. “Now, come on,” he said, “Tidy yourself up before the others get here. Chin up.”

  “Par! Kate!” they heard Wyatt’s voice call them. “Are you all right? Where are you?”

  Par picked himself up and positioned himself so that he was between Kate and the approaching Wyatt. “We’re fine. Just a little shaken up. That was quite a show.” Behind him Kate was brushing away the last of the wetness from her face.

  “Kate? Are you okay?”

  “I’m fine,” she said, still blocked from Wyatt’s view. “Really.”

  Wyatt eyed Par suspiciously thinking that something was being kept from him. “Okay, then. Well let’s think about moving, shall we, we don’t want to lose any more time today.” He turned away from them and exited the cave for the third and last time.

  * * * * *

  It took them over two hours to reach the top of the scree. It was a slope comprised purely of shingle and progress was slow. Every now and then, one of the group would find an area of particularly loose rock and with no substantial solid hand or footholds, would go sliding fifty feet or more back the way they had came. The biggest challenge was getting Bobby to the top, a problem they solved by relieving Kit of his pack on the understanding that he, being the strongest of them, would drag the stretcher up behind him by means of ropes tied both to the stretcher and around Kit’s belt. Bobby moaned deliriously throughout the whole ordeal. She has a right to, Chris thought; it was not the most ideal arrangement. When he reached the top Kit was exhausted and they waited for him to recover while taking on some water.

  It was nearing midday when they reached the fringes of the forest on the higher plateau and they were grateful of the shade. The second sun was now reaching its apex and the temperature was climbing rapidly. They had walked mostly in silence except for a few isolated conversations; one where Chris had asked Byron what it was exactly they had encountered that morning, to which Byron replied that he did not have the faintest idea what they were, he had certainly never seen anything like them or anything which flocked in such great numbers; the other was when Par inquired what time they would reach the shuttle. Wyatt thought it would be a little before nightfall.

  They stopped during the afternoon to eat, by all accounts, a veritable feast. With the shuttle being so close, they could afford to rehydrate some of the food they carried with them with the water they had collected last night. They stopped for no longer than half an hour, time enough to eat and rub the soreness away from their legs. Some of them removed their boots and socks to expose their tired feet to the cooler air and examine blisters which the three-day hike had endowed upon them. Others seemed content just having the opportunity to take their packs off and relish the few minutes they had without a load on their back. The time passed quickly, it seemed, and then they were forced to find some inner strength, a new motivation, to pick up and start again.

  As dusk approached, Wyatt checked his watch more and more frequently, making slight adjustments to their direction and assuring them that they were very close to the shuttle’s location.

  Soon after, they broke out of the trees to find themselves in a small open space. It was an ideal site for a landing with a clear entry and liftoff point between the trees. Byron walked across to where a large area of the vegetation was flattened and where in patches the plant life had been burnt away and the soil underneath was clearly visible.

  “She was definitely here,” he shouted back to the others.

  “Shit!” Wyatt said, checking his watch again. “This is the place,” he confirmed. “The shuttle was here while we were at our first location. There were people here on this same planet while we were here…and now they’ve gone. Dammit! This can’t be happening to us…not after all we’ve been through to get so far.” He ran his hands through his hair, frustrated.

  Byron turned to rejoin the others and what he saw made him gasp. Though the others were oblivious to it, forty feet above them cradled precariously and awkwardly in the branches of a giant tree was the shuttlecraft.

  CHAPTER

  12

  Mannheim removed the data chip from its operating card with difficulty. His stubby fingers found it difficult to get a grasp on the tiny component and his anxiousness added to his frustration.

  The pilot’s report had been excellent. Very thorough indeed. Mannheim had viewed the flight-lieutenant’s inability to locate the target at the pre-determined rendezvous as an added bonus. One less thing for him to worry about. In fact he could have been described as pleased at the news, but his pleasure was just as rapidly seized away from him when he read that the pilot had not been able to locate the Santa Maria either. He had suddenly felt very uncomfortable. Now, he toyed with the chip between his fingers and stared at it as if he could extract more meaning from that information just by looking at the vessel it was carried on. Maybe if he stared long and hard enough at it, the chip would give up secrets that until now it had kept from him. Yes, the pilot’s report had covered everything, but this time everything was not enough. Where was the Santa Maria now, he wondered? He would speak to the man face-to-face when he returned.

  * * * * *

  Par stood looking up at the shuttle gripped in the boughs of the massive tree. It was a black mass, silhouetted by the sun which climbed sluggishly into the sky behind it. The harsh light cut through the branches like knife blades, slivers of gold filled with streams of glitter as tiny particles passed through the rays and were kissed by the light. Par shielded his eyes from it and contemplated the task that awaited him this morning.

  They had been forced to camp under a large tree whose lower, broad, fan-shaped branches had provided some semblance of cover. It had not been an ideal arrangement, but it was the best place they could find in the near vicinity of the shuttle. They had talked at length about what they would do with the shuttle and how they would get it out of the tree and down on the ground where it belonged. They had decided, absurd though it sounded, that if they could they would fly it. First, Par correctly informed them, someone needed to check that it was in a decent enough condition that it could be flown. The others had all stopped and looked at him. “That’ll be me, then,” he had concluded. Now as he stood there and looked at the shuttle he wished that he had kept his mouth shut.

  “Got that line for you.” Wyatt came up alongside him and held out a coil of rope.

  “Thanks, I’m sure,” Par said, looking closely at the crudely fashioned grappling hook on its end. He recognized the trap c
omponents fashioned now into the three-pronged hook. “Is that going to hold my weight?” He gave it a long and suspicious stare.

  “Can’t say,” Wyatt said. “But it should do,” he added with a smile.

  “Great.” Par said, sarcasm playing traitor to his feigned enthusiasm.

  “Just one thing before you go,” Wyatt stopped him. “If she feels like she’s going to give, just jump clear. We can fix a broken bone. We can’t help you if you’re a shish-kebab.”

  “Sound advice indeed. Thanks, I’ll remember that.” Par turned away from him and returned his attention to the shuttle. “Now then, if you’ll excuse me, I have work to do.”

  “Be careful,” Wyatt cautioned him.

  “Yeah,” Par was nonchalant, already walking away from him. Already resigned to what might happen.

  He stopped almost directly underneath the shuttle’s position and glanced up into the tree to get another look at it before turning to look back at the others. They all gave him encouraging nods of their heads. He turned away from them and returned his gaze to the shuttle. “Well,” he sighed quietly, “Here goes nothing.” Dropping the coil of rope to the ground, he maintained his grasp on a short length of it in his left hand and began to swing the hook around with his right. Slowly, the action became faster until the rope whoomp-whoomped as it cut its path rapidly through the air. Then he quickly let the hook go, and sent it upward through the tree on a trajectory he hoped would end with the sound of metal on metal. He was successful the first time. The hook sailed above and over the top of the shuttle and landed with a clang, but the weight of the trailing rope pulled it back and it failed to catch on anything. Par stood looking up, mesmerized, as the slack rope tightened and then the hook on its end appeared over the top of the shuttle and began to fall towards him. Surprised and spurred into action, he only just managed to move out of the way before the grapple fell to the earth with a thud. He gave the others a skeptical look. “I’ll try that again, shall I?”