by S. H. Jucha
A small group, which included Willem, Ginny, Teague, the four Swei Swee, Xavier, and a second escort, Corporal Keira Daubner, would undertake a short exploratory trip to the nearby shoreline and the site of the single dark traveler.
“I acknowledge that this survey trip is under your command, Willem, but I would ask that you heed any requests I issue that concern our people’s safety,” Xavier said.
“Rest assured, Captain, that I will take all your suggestions under advisement.”
Xavier figured that was the best that he was going to get from the SADE, and he signaled Keira.
When Willem signaled the team was ready, Orly opened the plex-crystal doors, which swung outward and tucked neatly against the inner hull. Security personnel exited first, silently stalking down the traveler’s rear hatch, which had become the shuttle’s gangway. Xavier blocked the path of the mission’s personnel while his people scanned the area. When he received an all clear from his team, he motioned to the waiting survey team and joined his people on the ground.
The survey crew hurried to follow Xavier, not even bothering to grab a box or bag. Everyone was too anxious to see the new planet. While most of the team gazed about in wonder at the arid plains, covered with waves of dry grass and the odd boulder formation, Willem organized his group for the trip to the shore.
The SADE left Edward in charge of the scientists and techs, which would be based at the traveler’s site and set off at a brisk pace toward the shoreline, but not brisk enough to keep up with the Swei Swee, who could smell the ocean breeze. Teague’s harsh whistle halted the foursome’s headlong charge ahead of the group, and they bobbed in excitement, while they waited for the Star Hunters to catch up.
Xavier nodded his appreciation to Teague for maintaining control over the anxious Swei Swee. It was bad enough the captain didn’t have sufficient troops to maintain a secure cordon, but he didn’t need his job getting more complicated by having his charges separate the moment they set foot on the planet.
At the bluff’s edge, the Swei Swee paused to take in the sights — ocean swells breaking over a distant uplift, white-crested waves hurrying to the shore, dark sands covering the beach, and the rich, fecund smell of ocean life. Without waiting for their human companions, the foursome dove off the bluff, pulling in their legs and surfing down the embankment on their carapaces.
“I recommend the break in the ridge,” Xavier said, pointing at a cut in the embankment that humans could navigate to access the beach. He wasn’t above throwing Teague a stern glance, as if to say, “I thought you had control of your six-legged friends.”
Near the water’s edge, Bobs A Lot gingerly tasted the moist sand.
When the Swei Swee viewed the images of the dark travelers buried in the sand, they hoped Celus-5 might have been their ancestral home, from which they had been kidnapped generations ago. Every hive member held a memory of the taste of the endless waters that had surrounded their cliff-based homes. Sadly, for the four Swei Swee, these were not the same waters.
Willem laid out the search parameters for the Swei Swee and the allotted time for their investigations, but he sent the information to Teague. It ensured that his directions were more accurately phrased. Teague whistled the orders to his alien friends, translating Willem’s depth limit into water color, distance from shore into the far breakwater, which was possibly a reef or wall, and length of time into an angle change of the blue white star in the sky.
When Teague finished, the four Swei Swee whistled their understanding, warbled their goodbyes to Little Singer, and bolted into the breaking waters in search of prey and predators. Their entire foray, with all its accompanying sensory input, would be recorded in their new implants, and Teague and Ginny shared responsibility for collecting and uploading to the ship’s controller the Swei Swee data after each exploration.
-5-
Attack
Pussiro’s eyes were glued to the scope ever since the oddly shaped ship landed. Despite being a creature of the plains, part of him admired the cool blue, green, and cream colors that swirled softly through its exterior hull. But the warm tones of dry grass and ground with its browns and tans were home to him.
Envy mixed with fear flowed through Pussiro. He longed for the Dischnya to possess the advanced technology that the shuttle represented. At the same time, that level of science indicated an extremely advanced race, which warned of power that could easily decimate the nests.
Pussiro was about to relinquish the scope when he spotted the bulbous end of the ship breakaway from the hull and descend toward the ground. However, nothing more happened after that, and he allowed a lookout to replace him to maintain the vigilance.
Much later, after Pussiro had fallen asleep, a soft hiss woke him, and he jerked upright.
“Commander, the aliens are exiting their craft,” the warrior whispered, and he stepped aside so that his commander could gain access to the scope.
Pussiro watched the entities descend a ramp and stand on his planet. His first emotion was one of relief. Nothing about the aliens appeared intimidating. In fact, they looked rather harmless — not large; no claws, teeth, or beaks to speak of; nearly hairless; not wrapped in armor; and not carrying identifiable armament. To Pussiro’s mind, they resembled prey not predators, but still, they flew ships that moved without visible engines. Do not be lulled into a false sense of security by your first impressions, Pussiro thought, erring on the side of caution. They can afford to appear without claws and let their tech speak for them.
Flexing the scope’s controls, Pussiro zoomed in for a closer look at the aliens as they examined the sky, ground, and far horizon. He was intrigued by the differences in skin colors, top knots, and statures. “Strange, these aliens,” Pussiro whispered to his warriors. “They’re not of the same soma.”
“Two soma, commander?” one lookout asked.
“Three, maybe four, maybe more,” Pussiro replied. The furrowing of his brow at the thought of the nests mixing echoed the frowns on his warriors’ faces. The difference was that Pussiro’s lips were not lifted in a grimace to reveal teeth, as were those of the lookouts.
Suddenly, Pussiro’s body tensed, and the muscles of his hind legs bunched in a fight-or-flee reflex. His warriors, sympathetic to the wasat’s reaction, crouched in defensive postures and sunk the claws of their feet into the hideout’s hardened ground.
“By the life of our queen, it can’t be,” Pussiro hissed, as he watched a group of aliens form up and head toward the great waters. Pussiro spun and sprinted from the hideout, angling down passageways at breakneck speed and barking at soma to clear his path.
Behind him, one lookout and then the other took turns at the scope.
“What does this mean?” the young warrior said to his senior, the lips of his muzzle twisted to project his confusion.
“Great trouble for the nest,” the elder warrior replied.
As Pussiro ran, he attempted to parse out the meaning of what he’d seen. The aliens were accompanied by ceena, but the relationship between them was unclear. His fervent hope was that the two-legged aliens had captured the six-legged creatures and trained them, similar in manner to that of the queen’s feedwa.
But what if the ceena aren’t slaves or pets? Pussiro asked himself. He noticed there were no leashes or restraints of any kind on the ceena. What if they’re allies of the aliens? he thought, and that possibility spurred him to greater speed.
Pussiro ran with all his strength, and warriors, hunters, and workers alike wondered at the haste of the wasat whose strides were usually so measured and self-assured. Pussiro’s destination was a small, seldom-used, hideout cut into the face of the small bluff that overlooked the waters.
The small room was emp
ty when Pussiro entered it, and he brushed at insect webs and crushed some of the poisonous creatures beneath his padded claws. The scope was removed long ago. The location became useless when the Dischnya’s hunt of the ceena chased the creatures out into the dark waters. Short, tough bushes, clinging to the bluff, hid the small hatch that Pussiro opened. He didn’t have long to wait before the aliens arrived, the ceena sliding past his hatch, not more than a weapon’s length away. Soon afterward, the two-legged aliens descended a path cut into the embankment by the feet of the Dischnya and came into view.
Pussiro was a keen observer of others. It was what had facilitated his mercurial rise through the ranks — that and his ferocious demeanor in battle. He employed that skill now, watching the aliens occasionally turn toward one another, but he couldn’t hear anything they uttered until one of the bigger aliens, one not as tall as Pussiro but with more mass, whistled to the ceena. The four creatures whistled in reply, and then turned toward a small alien, whose topknot was the color of pale, dried grass, bobbing quickly before they raced for the waters. Their action in the presence of the small alien appeared to Pussiro to be the same obeisance the soma extended to Nyslara.
Pussiro felt fear creep through his body, driving deep into his bones. We’ve dined on ceena since our arrival on Sawa Messa, he thought. He closed the lookout hatch and sat heavily on the small bench, absentmindedly crushing a dangerous insect with a hard nail. In his mind, he replayed the whistles and warbles emitted by the ceena as they died at the hands of the nest’s hunters — two generations of hunt, a multitude of creatures killed, and more whistles and warbles than could be counted — not the cries of simple prey, but the entreaties of intelligent entities.
Dropping his head into his hands, Pussiro attempted to collect his thoughts. It was not long before he pulled himself together. His duty was to his queen and his nest. If ever his soma needed him, it was now, even though what was needed had yet to form completely in his mind. His experience, as commander, told him that, at this moment, the aliens were vulnerable, and he knew his warriors must strike while the opportunity presented itself.
* * *
Bethany Latimer, the sergeant in Captain Escobar’s command, left Corporal Smitty Lange, the junior security escort guarding the camp team, while she started a sweep of the area surrounding the traveler. She started close to the ship, moving out ever farther with each circle of the vessel.
Several times Bethany was forced to sidestep insects that scuttled toward her with claws extended or stingers hoisted high above their backs.
As Bethany’s circle widened, she caught the barest hint of flash from a dried bush that looked in dire need of water, but she dismissed the speck of light as a piece of reflective mineral or some other anomaly. It was when she hadn’t covered more than another 60 degrees of arc in her circle that she spotted another brief glint of light. This one was also at the base of another bunch of dried brush. After the second instance, Bethany kept watch for more of the telltale reflections, careful to glance across the bushes or watch from the corner of her eye. If the landing party was being observed, she didn’t want to give her observations away.
Xavier had taken Bethany planetside and left her in charge of the camp’s survey team, because she was an experienced ex-Terran Security Forces (TSF) trooper and was as intuitive as they come when it came to trouble raising its ugly head.
Bethany warned Corporal Lange to take up a defensive position at the rear of the traveler. Both escorts had the same thought. It was a wonderful time to land on an alien planet, carrying only stun guns.
* * *
The SADE’s head snapped toward Xavier, but the captain was intently scanning the low bluff that bordered the beach.
Teague quickly stripped off his shirt, boots, and pants.
Whistles Keenly surfaced, having received Teague’s strident message. He dove back under and sounded the alarm to his companions, using both his shrieking whistle and implant to warn them to seek shelter. It was the Swei Swee’s ancient call to make for the safety of the shore in the presence of dangerous sea predators.
Precious time was lost before the four Swei Swee finally broke surface. Three of them had been exploring the rocky bottom for sea creatures. They used their powerful tails to drive them at speed toward the beach. Swift Claws and Sand Flipper would come closest to Teague, and they angled to slip alongside him.
As his two friends passed Teague, he grabbed the front of their carapaces and was hauled toward the beach, bodysurfing over the waves. Teague released his hold when they reached the shallows, and the five of them waded ashore, only to freeze as a horde of aliens burst over the bluff and from a bolt-hole in its face.
Willem, who could process the extent of their danger faster than a human, sent
More than thirty fur-f
aced aliens with long-barreled weapons surrounded the landing party at the shore. It was difficult to comprehend which was more intimidating, the ancient-looking weapons pointed at their faces from meters away or the up-curled lips, which exposed rows of sharp teeth in the aliens’ snouts.
A gray-muzzled alien stepped forward, eyed Willem’s hands in the air, and spoke to him. Willem didn’t understand a word but he dutifully recorded the exchange, preparing to build a translation app. Where are Julien, Cordelia, and Mutter, when you need them? Willem lamented to himself. It was those three SADEs who had decoded the Swei Swee’s whistling, warbling, and twittering language.
Six of the fur-covered aliens stood at the water’s edge and pointed their weapons at Teague and the Swei Swee. The alien in front of Willem, whom the SADE took to be the leader, barked an order at those on the beach. In turn, the six warriors motioned with their weapons for Teague and the creatures with him to come ashore.
Teague started slowly forward, but the drool dripping from the jaws of several of the aliens as they eyed his friends scared him. He whistled shrilly, and the Swei Swee spun and dove back into the waves. That caused several of the aliens to bark harshly at Teague and gesture angrily with their weapons.
Holding his hands in the air and wading toward the beach, Teague tried to think calmly. His eyes glanced several times toward Ginny. Despite the dire circumstances, Teague couldn’t help noting an odd thing. The aliens kept their sharp-clawed feet out of the water. In fact, if an errant wave crawled toward them, they would eye it with concern and step back quickly, while keeping their weapons trained on him.
When Teague reached the nearest warrior, a young-appearing one, the alien shoved the butt of his weapon at Teague’s shoulder. With years of training by the de Long twins, his father’s long-time security escorts, Teague reflexively crossed his body with his right hand to catch the weapon’s wooden stock, which was aimed at his left shoulder. A more senior individual might have quit at that point, having defused the strike. Unfortunately, Teague was a teenager, and the young warrior, who wielded the weapon, was one of those who smacked his mouth noisily as he eyed the Swei Swee. So Teague rotated to his left, grasping the weapon with both hands and deliberately yanking it away from the alien. The result of his action was entirely unexpected.