How long did it take for a fungus to grow four meters tall? Had one really grown through that poor man? He couldn’t possibly be from our ship. Nothing living could grow that quickly.
I fought to control my thoughts. Fear warred with horror, either one a ruthless master. The image of the dead man, violated by an alien fungus etched itself so firmly in my mind that it blocked out everything else. I looked ahead, and I saw him, at my feet, and there he was. I couldn’t close my eyes, but I knew that if I did I would see the grisly details perfectly on my red lids.
Conrad’s pace was grueling, but measured. I had a worried intuition that he ran like this for PT every day. I threw myself into it, hoping that exhaustion would eat up the energy I directed towards my imagination. Fear lent me energy. A chill began in my belly, reaching up to freeze me to the crown of my head. What had been done to that poor man back there?
There was another one over there. I saw it through the undergrowth. Surely not… No, there was one over to my left, too! How many? I could pick them out now that I knew what to look for. Fourteen in my line of sight and who knew how many more in this dense forest? I wanted to throw up.
Roman! I screamed in my own head, Roman, where are you? I need you so much!
The strange resonance occurred again. Wishful thinking, certainly. I hoped he could still hear me even if he couldn’t answer.
If you can hear me, Roman. I love you.
It was silly to project thoughts to someone who would never receive them. Silly to ache with worry for him when I had my own shadows closing in. Nigel said he was going to the marines, but what if he had lied about that, too? Not a shred of confidence remained in me where the Matsumoto Dynasty was concerned.
I ran on, gasping for breath. Running hadn’t been a daily activity for me, even before I’d been put in a simulated sleep. Twice, Ian trod on the back of my foot. I didn’t think the second time was deliberate. I just wasn’t keeping very good time.
We stumbled our way through tangled trees and vines in a path that was angled towards the colony site on my mini map. I saw two more fungus towers close to where I was running. They both grew out of hideous corpses. After that, I stopped looking at the totems of the dead.
Behind me, the other colonists formed an arrow, and behind them were the surviving marines and ship’s crew, like a comet’s tail winding through the forest. I could see them clearly on the map of my Tactical Interface. The trees here were so tall they would have dwarfed multi-story dwellings on a more civilized world. It made judging our location by our surroundings nearly impossible. Without the Interface, I would already be lost.
My legs were growing stiff, and my lungs burned from exertion. Was there anyone left to run from? Maybe the Major’s men had scared them all off. I hadn’t seen any sign of an enemy, except for the corpses.
I heard a scream from behind me and to the left. I froze, and turned toward it, in time to see another colonist fall. She screamed, writhing on the ground, choking and retching. Her face turned to the sky and out of her open mouth a yellow stalk shot out, faster than a speeding grav-car, and blossomed into three curling nodules four meters from the ground.
I turned to the side and retched. After so long in cryosleep nothing came up, but I couldn’t stop retching.
I wouldn’t have been able to move if Ian hadn’t slammed into me, yelling, “Move it, or you’ll wish you were her!”
I stumbled, but kept my feet under me, fueled now by terror and rising panic. I ran so quickly that I found my place in line again behind Corporal Conrad. The way he ran screamed efficiency and capability. I tried to focus on that. I needed something to distract me. Efficiency. Capability.
Ian probably saved my life back there. It was probably the last thing he would want to do if he thought about it.
There were no other screams at first, but a moment later I heard the distinctive ziiiiz, ziiiiz sound of nettlegun fire and then the screams began again. I couldn’t tell where the firing was coming from or who was screaming, but Corporal Conrad didn’t turn around or slack his pace, and this time I followed his lead, running with my eyes ahead.
Did the enemy have nettleguns? They were an advanced technology most favored by Blackwatch Military. Most other military groups preferred flechette guns. Where would a bunch of backwater natives have gotten nettleguns? And who had attacked the woman I saw die? Was it a spontaneously growing plant?
Conrad stopped so suddenly that I almost collided with him. My feet skidded on the soft leaves, and I reached out, grabbing Ian to maintain my balance.
“Get off me!” Ian said, swatting at my hands as I dropped the hold I had on him. It had been enough to stop me in time. What caused the sudden stop?
The ground below us dropped from tangled forest to cliff face without warning. I gasped at the deep drop below, skittering backwards to gain distance from it. Beside me, someone ran up from behind and didn’t stop in time. I felt the wind whistle beside me as he toppled over the edge, and the sound of his scream dwindled until it became nothing. My chest constricted and I gasped.
“What the…” Ian said from behind me.
Corporal Conrad fixed his gaze on Ian. “Run back to the Major for orders. Tell him-”
An inky black arm reached up over the lip of the cliff and wrapped itself around his waist. He was cut off midsentence and dragged over the edge, his scream bubbled up and then it abruptly ceased.
My eyes widened, but I didn’t freeze up.
“Run!” I yelled, heading left along the cliff face.
My map interface flashed yellow to tell me it was the wrong way, but I didn’t care. Left got me away from Conrad … and whatever had pulled him over the cliff.
Running along the edge of the cliff wasn’t easy. The edge was not uniform, and it crumbled and gave way if I stepped too close to the edge. Worse, who knew what waited just below, hoping to pull us over the side? We skidded and slid along the tree line, grasping saplings and striped grasses for purchase as we skittered to safety, or at least to something safer than that.
I don’t know how long I ran, or who followed me, but eventually I thought to query my implant.
Time?
9:00 local planetary time
Eventually the cliff gave way to a steep, rocky hillside, and I slid and tumbled my way down to the ground below. In the ravine was a creek, and in the center of the creek was a bare rock island. It looked like a good place to wait for further instructions, and I didn’t see any natives there – not that I knew what they looked like. So far they had been elusive. I gained the center of the rock and spun around to see how close the rest were.
Behind me were twenty other “colonists” and four armed marines. They crowded on the rock with me. We waited for the rest. Minutes slipped by as everyone gasped and gathered their breath. A pack was opened. Water was found and passed around.
“I wonder if we can drink this creek water?” someone said.
“Only if you filter it first,” a marine answered absently.
I looked at their chests. One had stripes and the name “Maxwell” on it. The other four were Mutambi, Fergus, and Morin. A fireteam? They seemed like it. They moved in sync together without speaking – at least out loud. A lot of marines had sub-vocal microphones, and they learned to subvocalize all their communications.
We waited long minutes before someone spoke.
“Where are they?”
I looked at my Tactical Interface. The people on the rock were all marked by green inverted carets over their heads. On my map there was a green inverted caret over our group and another one, heading in the opposite direction. They must have turned right on the cliff where we turned left. By now, we were far apart and soon it would be even further.
Ian was close to Corporal Maxwell, and he was edging closer by the moment. “Where’s everyone else?”
“Calm down, colonist,” Maxwell said. His eyes had the unfocused look of someone listening intently.
“Where are they?” Ian
asked, louder this time, and looming over the shorter Corporal.
Two other colonists were standing at either of his shoulders, following his lead. I studied them closely. They seemed like criminals, rather than political prisoners. There was something hardened about their faces. They glanced at each other like they were no strangers.
The Corporal narrowed his eyes, and I saw his gun barrel twitch upwards. Was he deciding whether to answer or shoot? I edged away from the line of fire.
The Corporal made up his mind. “Our communications are down. I don’t know where Command is. SOP is to proceed to the rendezvous point. We’ll do that.”
I looked around at the trees and cliffs surrounding our tiny island. There were two dozen of us, with no back up and only four weapons. Things were about to get interesting. I didn’t have time to think about what that might mean because I was too busy trying not to throw up.
THE SPLITTING: 4
“THIS WAY,” CORPORAL MAXWELL SAID, pointing up the creek in the direction that the other group was heading.
According to my map, it was the fastest route, but it would leave us pinned between the cliffs and vulnerable to attack. Matsumotos weren’t allowed to fight, but that didn’t mean we didn’t study tactics and strategy at school. You can’t lead an Empire if you aren’t sure what your armies are doing.
“We’ll be vulnerable in the canyon,” I said, my eyes looking away from the Corporal and my tone diffident. I didn’t want a power struggle.
He ignored me and started giving orders to the squad. Mutambi was to take point, and Fergus the rear. Morin was to keep an eye on us to make sure no colonists got ‘lost.’ I thought maybe he meant ‘make sure no prisoners escape.’ Why would anyone want to run into a jungle filled with a mysterious enemy that fertilized massive fungi in corpses?
“Who does she think she is?” I heard a stage whisper behind me.
I glance back. It was one of the toughs.
Identify
Francis Ch’ng. Sentenced to lifetime as a colonist. Charge: Trade in living persons, Trade in restricted biotech, First Degree Murder
So he wasn’t exactly Raggedy Andy. With biotech listed on his rap sheet I’d have to be careful. I couldn’t afford to let anyone know about the illegal tech that I housed in my pretty little head, and someone familiar with it would see the signs if I wasn’t careful.
“She thinks she’s a Matsumoto,” Ian said, and when I glanced at him his jaw was set in a hard line. “She thinks she can toy with people and manipulate them into doing what she wants before destroying their lives.”
Ch’ng grunted in satisfaction.
“She really is a Matsumoto,” his buddy said, with a faraway look in his eyes.
Great. He was thinking about how he could use me to his advantage. Better men had tried. Take Ian’s father, for instance.
Identify
Malcolm Sentry. Sentenced to lifetime as a colonist. Charge: Fourteen counts of murder in the First Degree.
Yikes. Ian was making some swell friends. I’d be terrified right now, but I already passed ‘terrified’ an hour ago and was still accelerating.
“I have a score to settle with her,” Ian said, his eyes granite.
I guess he was thinking of his father and his own unjust imprisonment, not the stolen kisses and offers he’d made me.
“Never liked Matsumotos much,” Ch’ng said, with a shrug.
“Move out!” Corporal Maxwell called, and I felt a sense of relief to be moving again. We followed in no particular order, having been assigned none, but somehow I was close to the front of the pack again. I didn’t like that. It’s hard to watch your back when all your enemies are behind you.
We started out at a steady jog. Mutambi was in the lead, his gun ready, scanning the undergrowth intently. The colors of the foliage were so high contrast that I thought it would be possible to hide rather easily. The striped grass and dark leaves were playing merry hell with my ability to scan and identify shapes, and that was even with a helpful filter from my Tactical Interface.
It was going to be a beautiful planet to die on. Some of the trees along the creek were in flower, and the delicate blossoms were like something one of my ancestors would have written poetry about. They would have loved it here. The black, white and purple plant life would have looked great painted in minimalist styles.
I realized as I ran that I was less tired than I ought to be.
Planetary gravity? I queried
87% Earth Standard
Well, that was a small boon. We had to carry everything we were going to eat on our backs, so at least we could count on it not weighing as much while we slogged through the forest – and on taking longer steps, since our muscles gave us a better boost in the lower gravity.
A red inverted caret flickered in the jungle to my left. I tried to focus on it, but it faded. A few minutes later another one flicked up to the right and then vanished. The computer thought enemies lurked in the trees. Was the forest tricking its optics, or were they only invisible to me?
I felt that weird echo in my implant again. Maybe the blasted thing was getting buggy. That would be terrible. It’s pretty hard to get secret technology serviced in the middle of nowhere and having a malfunctioning computer inside your brain would be a penance all its own.
There was another red inverted caret that disappeared as soon as it appeared. Then we scrambled up a rocky rise in the creek bed and the thick trees pushed aside to a wide clearing. On either side, the pale yellow cliffs still rose one hundred meters tall, but the canyon floor was wide, and the creek split off into a dozen rivulets and slowed down. The stripy grass grew thick and bore delicate purple flowers.
Even running for my life, it took my breath away.
Suddenly, a red inverted caret bloomed, but this time it didn’t go out. A second popped up on the other side of us, and then my view was filled with red inverted carets. I still couldn’t make out the Natives, but we were surrounded.
“Contact!” Mutambi shouted.
“Contact!” Fergus echoed from the rear.
Maxwell’s head whipped back and forth like a flag in a strong wind.
I peered at the trees. They were more of those giant near-oaks we’d been seeing all along, rooted in the slow flowing creek we splashed through. We froze, dead center in at least twenty meters of clearing on every side, and a thick ring of trees surrounding that. The ground under our feet consisted of water, sharp, yellow gravel, and more of the stripy grass. There was no cover. How long would it take a native to clear twenty meters? I didn’t even know if they were humanoid.
Intelligence on Local Natives?
See Database 11B on Baldric or New Greenland
Well, that was helpful.
“I don’t see anything,” Ch’ng said from behind me.
“Watch the shadows,” Morin muttered.
The barrel of his nettlegun was tracing the outlines of rocks and trees like he was trying to paint a virtual picture.
“Anything more?” Maxwell asked. A tac viewer was flipped over one of his eyes making him look half-man and half-frog.
“Nothing,” Fergus said.
We waited, holding our breath – or at least our tongues. Some of us were still panting from the exertion, despite the lower gravity.
The echo rang in my mind again.
Roman? Is that you? I asked, and then a little more forlornly I added, I miss you.
For a moment, as we all sucked in air, I had enough time to imagine him here, watching my back, glaring at Ian and making snide remarks in my head. I would have given a limb for that voice right now.
He’d say something like, Pretty boy isn’t looking quite as pretty now in that pale shade of green. And I’d feel like things couldn’t be as bad as they were if he was making cruel observations
“Well,” Morin let out a breath, “that’s a relie-”
A shadow…split… somehow from the stripy grass at his feet into a ten-foot-high form. Dark and undefined, it…
flickered….and then settled into a mirror image of Morin, spat in his face and disintegrated. Morin let out a scream. His finger depressed the nettlegun trigger, as his body writhed in agony, scream after scream ripping from his open mouth. It sounded like he was shredding his lungs. I dove to the gravel, my face half submerged in the water. Were there more shadows nearby?
There were more screams as the nettles from Morin’s gun rippled into other colonists, and then the fire stopped and I risked a look. Morin’s eyes still flickered with life as a yellow shoot poured out of his mouth, climbing for the sky. Then, they rolled back and were displaced by two more shoots racing for the cloud line.
I screamed. I don’t usually, but these were special circumstances.
Beside me, Ian was down with a nettle in the leg. It didn’t look serious, but I moved to help. He batted me off, his gorgeous face alive in a sneer.
“Get off me. I don’t want Matsumoto anywhere near me.”
I obliged with a pang of regret. If nothing else, I had thought we were friends before the Emperor sentenced us. I’d been a confidant, and even a potential lover to him before. Now he couldn’t even look at me without pain and anger blossoming in his eyes.
The mental echo rang forcefully in my head, blocking out other thoughts. I scanned our group. Maxwell stood beside the pillar that used to be Morin. He was passing orders to the rest of his squad. They showed no injuries. Another colonist was dead with a face full of nettles. He seemed to have caught the worst of it. There was one other minor injury, like Ian’s. Other colonists bent over Ian and the other man with medic kits out.
I scanned the woods. Now that I knew what to look for, I saw shadows splitting off from their sources and then merging back. When they split the Tactical Interface assigned them a red inverted caret until they merged back. I had so many inverted carets popping off in my view that I basically had my own fireworks show going on.
“Matsumoto!” Maxwell said, looking at me. I suspected he’d selected me because he knew my name. “Get that fallen tree and drag it here. I’ll cover you.”
The Matsumoto Trilogy: Omnibus Edition Page 27