The Treasure

by Michael Davis

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  The Treasure

  by Michael Davis

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  Science Fiction

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  Champagne Books

  www.champagnebooks.com

  Copyright ©

  NOTICE: This work is copyrighted. It is licensed only for use by the original purchaser. Making copies of this work or distributing it to any unauthorized person by any means, including without limit email, floppy disk, file transfer, paper print out, or any other method constitutes a violation of International copyright law and subjects the violator to severe fines or imprisonment.

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  CONTENTS

  About Michael

  * * * *

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  A Champagne Books Short Story

  The Treasure

  By

  Michael Davis

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  This is a work of fiction. The characters, incidents and dialogues in this book are of the author's imagination and are not to be construed as real. Any resemblance to actual events or persons, living or dead, is completely coincidental.

  No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, or by any information storage and retrieval system, without permission in writing from the publisher.

  Champagne Books www.champagnebooks.com

  Copyright © 2007 by Michael Davis

  May 2008

  Cover Art © Champagne Books

  Produced in Canada

  Champagne Books

  #35069-4604 37 ST SW

  Calgary, AB T3E 7C7

  Canada

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  Jake heard the scream from the direction of the shoreline. He ripped his way through the dense undergrowth, but when he got there, she was gone. He followed the drag trail into the teal colored trees. Just inside the dense underbrush, he came to an opening, and there she was, the life being sucked from her small body. She reached for him, pleaded for relief. He struggled to help her, but he couldn't move. His feet were entangled in the roots of the forest; the vines rose up and anchored him to the ground. She called his name again and again, begged him to save her, but he could only watch as she was slowly devoured. He looked toward the sky; cried out for a reprieve, but there was no one to help.

  Clang. Jake opened his eyes. His self made alarm worked this time. He pulled down the clear plastic container hanging over his head and shook it back and forth. The motion aggravated the two-inch long glowworms stored inside the container. The insects hissed as their bodies emitted a bright glow, equivalent to roughly a 40-watt bulb.

  He looked down at the floor and observed a two-foot long brown slug easing across the trip wire of his alarm. He removed the knife from the sleeve attached to his belt, tossed it at the four-inch diameter creature, and skewered the slimy thing to the ground.

  Jake sat on the edge of the hand made cot and stared through the tent opening at his new world. He shook his head to force out the terrible images that hounded his dreams. The nightmares came less frequently now, but the memory was always there, leaching at his soul. For that one mistake, when he lowered his guard for an instant, he would be haunted for the remainder of his days.

  Jake reached for his knife and picked up one of the many hostile creatures he had learned to live with during the past eleven months. He smirked at the slug and declared, “Not this time. You already sucked off my little toe, you bastard. It's my turn to eat you.” He tied a string around the extruded orifice at the front of the slug and hung his evening meal from the tent post to prevent the other little crawly things from stealing his dinner.

  He walked outside and peered up at the three moons that cast a blue tinge across the landscape. “Might as well stay up. Not enough time before they start coming again.” He stretched his six foot frame and ran a hand through his sandy colored hair and took a moment to enjoy the view of the sparkling turquoise shoreline eighty yards below his fortress. Forty-foot luminescent eels undulated in the surf, as the males jockeyed for access to a mate. A large six-legged pig-like creature routed in the sand for shellfish deposited by the tide.

  “Watch it. You're getting too close.” The animal had carelessly strayed next to a two foot diameter borrow. “Too late.” In an instant, the maroon-red sea leech shot out and latched its four-inch fangs into the side of its victim. The struggle for life subsided when the leech tranquilized its prey by injecting a pint of poison. Once the meal was enveloped, the leech retracted back into its hiding place beneath the sand.

  “Guess I'll replenish my stock.” Jake walked back to the tent and gathered an arm full of items from his arsenal. He walked along the rim of the plateau that defined his battlefront and distributed weapons at strategic locations where they tended to crawl up the ridge once the assault began. Jake shook his head at the contrast between the sophisticated armaments destroyed in the crash and his current defenses. His crude primitive weapons were simple: several crossbows he fabricated from the wreckage and spears fashioned from saplings, and large stones. Not much for a technology driven man, but enough to survive the last four months against the only weapon his adversaries possessed, their own bodies.

  Satisfied that his stash would last through the upcoming battle, he walked back to the tent and examined the electronic components laid out on the table. “Maybe this time I fixed it.” Jake spent the next few minutes reassembling his mission recorder. Then he picked up the wireless microphone, crossed his fingers, and stated, “Testing, testing, one, two, three.”

  He flipped the playback switch, “Please work, you son of a bitch.”

  "Testing, testing, one, two, three."

  “Finally! After all these months, I can start recording this fouled up mission.”

  Jake pulled back the flap of the tent and looked toward the horizon, “Fifteen minutes until sunrise. I'll record as much as I can before they come.”

  He shook the container of glowworms a few times, sat it on the table and began. “This is Major Hamilton, commander of the Specter Three deep probe mission. It's been eleven months since we arrived on this planet. In terms of where we are, I have no idea. Two years into the mission, something happened to the auto-nav system. We were all suspended, and by the time I refreshed, the command software had vectored us on a glide path to land on Aurora, or at least that's what I call this place. From our approach, the planet appeared to be roughly 90% water, with five or six large landmasses, each about half the size of Australia. A massive electro-magnetic pulse destroyed the mission flight data, so we could never figure how we got here instead of our original destination, Omega Four. The EM pulse toasted all our celestial instrumentation. I think we came too damn close to an uncharted gravity well. Life support lasted long enough to start the refresh cycle, but it screwed up on Captain Jones’ suspension pod. By the time I recovered, his body had collapsed into a gelatinous form.”

  Jake took a drink of water from his canteen. It felt good to talk to someone, or at least to feel like he was talking to another human. “The gravity well must have slung us into a new trajectory. It was probably a black hole that exceeded its mass consumption capacity and emitted a powerful EM pulse. Fortunately, we were off on one of the field's side lobes, otherwise we would have been fried to a cinder. With the sensors burned out, the landing radar was useless. I deployed the emergency deceleration chutes, but it wasn't enough. The ship skidded through thick undergrowth before hitting the rock ledge. It took out the entire right side, including Lieutenant Carol Manson's suspension pod. I went back to see if she survived, but there was nothing. Just pieces of her body scattered among the wreckage. I gathered what I c
ould and buried the remains of Carol and Captain Jones up here on top of the plateau, so I can watch over them. Make sure nothing disturbs them.”

  He looked out at the crosses casting shadows in the bright moonlight. “Mary Thompson, the life sciences specialist, survived the crash. After we established a safe haven on the nearest plateau in the tropical forest, Mary began to investigate the multitude of life forms on the planet.”

  Jake smiled. “Tell Harry Myers, I finally figured out why mission planning was so imperative about splitting the genders on each flight. I first thought it was some political statement, but now I understand the logic of their decision. The first five months weren't that bad. It was tough to figure out how to survive in this ecosystem, but at least we weren't alone. We had each other.”

  He removed his mother's medallion from his pocket and rubbed the smooth surface in the amber light of the glowworms. The heirloom was the only thing he kept. When she died, there was no one to leave behind, no reason not to join the deep probe mission group. Jake remembered when he gave Mary the memento as a gift for her birthday, three months after they crashed. It was the first time Mary kissed him.

  He picked up the microphone and continued. “When that thing took Mary, it was like I was thrown into some dark abyss. I walked around with no purpose for a long time. I never imagined it was possible to be this lonely, especially at night. The nights are unbearable. I still haven't adapted to all the noises, the gut wrenching screams as some prey loses its life.”

  Jake glanced at the closest cross of the three in the makeshift graveyard. “Mary and I really got close in those five months we struggled to survive. We never clicked back on earth, but here, we really bonded. We talked about how lucky we were to end up together, even if it was all the way out here. We even discussed starting a family.”

  He gazed out at the pink clouds reflecting sunlight from below the mountain, “I tried to save her, but by the time I got there, the eight foot segmented centipede had injected too much digestive fluid. It took two days before she finally died. I had to watch her slowly dissolve, listen to her suffer. I'll never forget it, never. I considered stopping her pain, bringing it to an end, but I just couldn't do it. God forgive me, but I lacked the courage.”

  A dim light blanketed the horizon as the sun neared the ridgeline. The looming dawn brought the first series of clicks and low resonant snorts. “I don't have much time before they start again. Mary learned that the dominant species on this planet is a four-legged mammal that resembles a large green cat-like creature. She named the species ‘the Clickers', because of their constant chatter of alternating clicks and snorts. They're basically peaceful, thriving on the fruits and berries that grow abundantly in the forest. Their faces are humanoid in form, with oval eyes, and small noses, like those on a tiny puppy. Their four-inch long elfin ears provide exceptional warning against approaching predators. They also appear to be a matriarchal-based species. The females determine what each cluster of Clickers does, and when.” He grinned, “Much like with human women.”

  Jake ate a large pear shaped fruit and then continued. “The males average about one hundred and seventy pounds and move around on all four extremities. The females are roughly thirty pounds lighter and spend most of their time in trees, but they walk upright as bipeds, just like us. This arboreal behavior has evolved a four-foot tail for balance, and a fourteen inch tapered tongue to help reach fruit on the smaller upper limbs.”

  The first of Aurora's two suns peeked above the mountain, and the chatter below in the forest stopped. “Crap. I've got to go. They'll be coming up the ridge for me. I'll explain more later.”

  He turned off the recorder and ran toward his observation post at the edge of the plateau. It was still too dark to see them climbing up the hill, but he knew they were coming; they always did. No matter how many he killed, they still came. For a six-day period every two months, his existence had diminished into a constant battle with an alien life form that he had come to understand too late.

  In the dim light he caught movement. One edged up the hill thirty yards down, the second just cresting the ridge. He picked up a spear and raced to meet the first Clicker. When the creature leaped toward him, Jake placed the rear of his wooden lance in the ground and vectored the point directly into the airborne male. The beast howled in pain, suspended momentarily in the air from the tip of the spear, and then slowly collapsed to a limp body impaled on a stake. Jake allowed the corpse to arch down to the ground. Then he stood up and ran in the direction of the second Clicker. He cleared the edge of the ridge and uttered a single word. “Shit!”

  Two more males were coming out of the tree line. He quickly picked up a small stone and threw it down at the second male. The creature jumped to the right causing the projectile to miss its target, but the pebble had served only as a diversion. The larger rock, thrown seconds after the first stone, hit its objective and cracked the skull of the small male. From experience, Jake knew the Clickers tended to jump to the right and immediately launched the true bullet, as he had done so many times before. He bolted toward the third creature as it crawled above the ridge. He raised his club and brought it down hard on the neck of the male, causing it to roll back down the hill. Jake turned toward the fourth Clicker, but it was too late. He raised his arm to protect his throat. The large male bit down hard, piercing skin and muscle. Jake screamed from the pain. He quickly removed his knife from his belt, and thrust the eight-inch blade deep into the creature's chest. The Clicker released its grip and howled. The green blood mixed with the red flowing from Jake's wound. He stabbed the creature again, then again, until it dropped to the ground, and lay motionless. He heaved the body over the edge of the plateau and yelled down toward the remaining Clickers hidden behind the tree line. “Stop this madness, this senseless killing. I'm not your enemy. I just want to survive. I can't return your treasure. I won't, never!”

  Once he successfully dispatched the first wave, Jake knew he could take a break. More would come, but not for several hours. He never figured out the strange pattern to their attack cycle, but they always came in waves of two to four, separated by several hours of clicking and howling behind the trees. Then, when they became silent, it would start all over again. He walked back to his tent and removed a strip of cloth from his medical kit. He poured water on his wound to remove the dirt, sprinkled disinfectant along his forearm, and wrapped his wound. He surveyed the scars on his arms, and both his legs that he obtained from similar battles. Then he picked up the recorder. He thought about telling the truth, the real reason for this eternal conflict, but he just couldn't say it.

  “They've stopped for now. I have a little time before the next attack. I'll try to finish this up and launch the communication rocket before they come at me again. At least you'll know one of us survived the mission and is still here. Not that I expect any rescue attempts. By the time you get this, I'll probably be an old man. Or perhaps I'll have been dead for a long time, but at least you'll know what we learned about this planet. I'll include all the data Mary collected before she was killed.

  “There's something else, something not on the data disk. As I mentioned before, the females tend to stay in the trees. I believe this behavior is a defensive reaction. There is a disparate ratio of males to females, about twelve to one from the groups I've observed. I think this lop sided ratio is a result of the aggressive nature of their mating habits. When the females come into heat, the typically docile males go absolutely insane. When a female chooses a mate, she comes down from the tree to couple. Just before she's ready to copulate, the silver mane of hair tracing down her back begins to change colors, rippling through all the hues in the spectrum. It's quite beautiful to watch. Then the female discharges a powerful sweet melon scent that has an intoxicating affect on her mate. This sudden release of such a stimulating aroma causes other males in the area to home in on the bonding pair. During the ensuring confrontation, the females are often severely injured or even killed inadvertent
ly. In an attempt to survive, the females select mates that are the largest of the pack, but have the mildest disposition toward them.”

  Jake hesitated. He considered again sharing the truth, but instinctively he knew they would never understand. They would consider him insane, warped. How could they think anything else? If they were isolated on this planet, maybe they could relate to what happened, but they weren't. Besides, who were they to judge? They weren't here, living the hell he was. If they were, perhaps they might be more forgiving. Jake took a deep breath and then made his decision. He would tell them what really took place; the terrible flaw in his judgment that had caused this senseless conflict. Hell, he would never see another human again anyway.

  “As part of the mating ritual, the males deliver offerings to the females. It reminds me of when humans use flowers, candy and similar gifts to woo the favor of an intended mate, but with one difference. The gifts infer a stronger intent. They are meant to attract the female down from the tree and encourage her to mate. On second thought, maybe it's not so different from back home, but that's where I made my mistake. I wanted to take a closer look at the offerings the males placed beneath the treed females and labored so hard to protect. There was something unusual about these gifts. The males behaved as if the offerings were a matter of life and death, each guarding their own pile like it was some valuable treasure. Through the binoculars, many of the gifts appeared to possess a strange crystalline form, almost like processed diamonds and rubies. Maybe it started with a hint of greed. Why I would care about anything of value out here was stupid. I learned too late what they were really protecting, the true treasure. I misinterpreted every damn thing, and for that mistake I've paid, over and over. I guess it's penance for my sins.”

  Jake turned toward the deafening silence. “My God, they're coming again, so soon. They've never done this before.”