by D. W. Vogel
“I’ll go,” Shiro said, and I turned to stare at him.
“We stay together,” the General said.
Ms. Arnson spoke quietly. “Rexes travel alone and are very territorial. The one that . . . the one we just saw is probably the only one in the area. It . . . won’t be hungry now. So tonight’s our best chance to find somewhere to get a signal out and get back in here to wait.”
“We could wait for daylight,” Brent suggested.
Ms. Arnson shook her head. “At night we just have the Rex to worry about. In daylight there will be Gilas and Wolves, and all the snakes will be active.”
“We could just as easily step on a snake in the dark,” Brent said. Ceti was home to a wide variety of venomous snakes. Just about every creature on this planet seemed like it had evolved especially to kill us.
The debate seemed to calm Ms. Arnson down. Talking about the native inhabitants of this planet focused her mind and she slipped naturally into teacher mode.
“True,” she said, “but at night the big ones will be sleeping in the trees. In daylight the big ones will be hunting. For us.”
The General decided the issue.
“We go tonight and we stay together.” He pulled his sat trans out of his pocket and touched the screen. It had no way to reach the satellites in orbit through the dense foliage, but the General had downloaded the most current maps of the area before we left Eden, so he had some idea where we were. We crowded around the glow of the small display.
“Our shuttle went down about here,” he said, pointing to a dense green area that looked exactly like all the dense green area around it. “So our current position is right around here.” He touched another identical patch of green and made note of our location on the trans. “We’re only a few kilometers from these hills. There will be some open areas there.” He indicated some brown patches of bare rock that looked impossibly far from our current location.
“Will that still be in this Rex’s territory?” I asked, trying and failing to keep the tremor out of my voice.
“I have no idea,” Ms. Arnson answered. “Their territories extend for kilometers, and who knows if this is the middle or the edge? But I don’t see that we have any choice.”
“Caleb, you found ammunition in here somewhere?” The General waited for my answer.
“Yes, sir. I’ll show you.” My voice sounded a little stronger. Just don’t think about Jack. You have to get through this on your own.
“Brent, you and Shiro collect anything else you can find in here that you think we can use. Caleb and I will get as much ammo as we can carry. Hopefully there will be weapons, too. Take ten minutes and gather what you can.”
We found enough handguns for each of us to get two, a couple of small handheld grenade launchers, plenty of ammunition, and some wickedly long knives. As I strapped one on, I had the thought that if any ‘saurs got close enough for me to reach for a knife, it was probably already too late.
I caught myself thinking about movies. Horizon’s virtual storage used to hold every book and movie ever written in English, the official language of Horizon Alpha. I devoured books as a kid, partly because I loved reading about how things once were on a planet long destroyed, and partly because recreation was fairly limited, even on such a huge ship. I realized how lucky I was to be born only twelve years before we reached our destination planet. Generations had been born, lived their whole lives, and died without ever setting foot on natural ground. How soul-crushing it must have been for them to know they wouldn’t live to see the culmination of this voyage, to find a new home for the tiny portion of humanity that made the journey.
To pass the time, I watched every film we brought on board. Histories, horror, thrillers. But my favorites were the science fiction movies. I loved watching what people thought the future would hold. They imagined us zipping around on jet packs, shooting laser guns at aliens. I watched them so many times their words were burned into my brain.
Since the crash, I often wished the ancient Earth scientists had time to develop laser guns before they shipped us into space. But when the ancients realized Earth’s days were numbered, they stopped working on all that stuff. Nothing but Horizon mattered anymore; how it would travel, what we would eat, where we would go. Maybe if Earth had survived, I’d be flying around in a hovercraft shooting a phaser; instead, I found myself on a dinosaur planet armed with guns that were designed two hundred years ago. Now more than ever, I wished that laser guns had been a priority. But they weren’t, so we did our best to fight off dinosaurs with handguns.
The General divvied up the weapons.
Ms. Arnson held the pistol he handed her like it was about to bite her. I’d seen her handle a baby Gila she was studying back at Eden like it was the safest thing in the world, even though the tiny creature already held enough venom in its little poison sacs to kill the whole class. But she looked like she’d be more comfortable holding that baby ‘saur again instead of a loaded gun. I was thankful for the three years I’d been in Army training while I finished school. At least I knew how to shoot.
We packed up the few medical supplies Shiro and Brent had found, and we each got a canteen. There were some vitamin bars on the ship, but I hoped we’d be back in Eden by lunchtime tomorrow. My stomach growled at the thought.
“Everyone ready?” asked the General. He picked up the heavy pack containing the precious fuel core, our mission objective.
“Ready, sir,” we answered.
There was a smear of blood on the door frame where the Rex had dragged Jack through.
“Fly free, Jack Branch,” Ms. Arnson murmured as she passed it. I echoed the sentiment, reaching out to touch a finger to the dark stain.
The General led us out into the night.
Chapter 7
We turned our flashlights off so our eyes could adjust to the darkness. Flashlights would be a beacon to any Rex in the area, and although the General had scared away the one that killed Jack, we didn’t want to press our luck. A pack of wandering humans might be too tempting for another Rex to hesitate leaving its own territory.
It was never completely dark in the forest. Thousands of insects we called skitters gave the forest luminescence at night. They flew up through the canopy by day, where the algae that had symbiotically colonized their bodies absorbed the sunlight. At night, the algae used the light to secrete complex sugars for the skitters to feed on. The waste products the insects produced glows in the dark, so most leaf surfaces were coated with the softly glowing green slime.
Earth had nothing like it, and I sometimes imagined how dark an Earth forest must have been compared to the cool, green light of Eden. The thought of such heavy darkness chilled me. Eden’s nighttime glow reminded me of Horizon, constantly bathed in the luminous radiation of its nuclear exhaust. We used the skitters’ light now to pick our way through the forest in single file. The slime left faint phosphorescent streaks on our skin where the foliage brushed against us.
The General ordered Ms. Arnson right behind him, and I followed her. Brent and Shiro were last.
We walked for hours, cautiously breaking our trail through the dense underbrush. I didn’t realize how tired I was until I walked into the back of Ms. Arnson, who stopped at the General’s hand signal.
“Sorry,” I whispered.
We gathered behind the General who signaled us to be silent with a finger over his lips. He pointed straight ahead.
I squinted through the dim jungle, not seeing anything unusual. Then the sour tang of ‘saur skin hit my nostrils, and I peered deeper into the thick ferns.
A shape resolved before my eyes, a still form curled around the base of a huge tree. I could barely see it, but the dark shadow of its body blocked the phosphorescent foliage in a distinctive shape. It breathed slowly in the chilly air. Gila.
Standing up, its shoulders would be taller than any of us. Its four legs were tucked in under its body to conserve heat. Its round head rested on the moist soil, and its long tail
curled most of the way around the tree. The venomous spine on its tail curved in a wicked spike off the tip. Any creature descending from the high branches in the early morning would likely not live to touch the ground.
My lips started to tremble as electric terror shot through me. I saw these creatures through the fence from time to time, but no electric charge separated us today. If it woke up, one of us would die.
Run! Escape! my brain screamed. My feet obeyed. I spun around, poised to sprint through the forest away from the green-scaled predator that slept mere steps away. Shiro must have seen the panic in my eyes because he gripped my shoulders and stared right at me. Neither of us said a word, but the steel of his gaze and the set of his jaw ordered me to be still and silent.
My heart was pounding so loud in my chest I was sure it would wake the sleeping ‘saur. Step by step we backed away from the tree. Shiro released me when he was sure I wasn’t going to bolt, and my shoulders slumped out of his hands. He didn’t say it, but I knew what he was thinking. Josh wouldn’t have panicked. Jack wouldn’t run.
But Josh and Jack weren’t here. There was only Caleb, Josh’s cowardly little brother, about to pee his pants on his first mission into the jungle. My face burned with shame in the darkness.
We stopped when the General felt we had reached a safe distance, and huddled together to whisper.
“That was a Gila,” Ms. Arnson said, in case anyone hadn’t realized that venomous death was sleeping under a tree just a short walk away.
“Won’t wake up for a few more hours,” the General replied. “We’ll be long away. We’ll skirt this area in case there are other members of its group around. I had hoped we’d reach the hills by morning, but this will put us behind.”
I didn’t want to travel by day, but I certainly didn’t want to spend another night in the jungle.
“Do we push on?” I asked, not sure what I hoped he’d answer.
“No. We’ll find a tree at daybreak and climb.”
We turned east and resumed our quiet, furtive trek.
Despite the terror of being beyond the fence’s safety, my eyes felt dry and heavy. I sipped water from my canteen. The soreness was seeping in to my shoulders, and the cut on my lip had swelled up. I felt like a baby for thinking it, but I wished we were home. Then I thought about where we were and figured everyone here must wish they were home, too. Even the General couldn’t be enjoying this.
***
I didn’t notice the jungle starting to lighten in the cool of pre-dawn, but when the General called a halt, I realized I could see up to the canopy where light was filtering through the high treetops. The ‘saurs would be waking up soon as the sun’s heat warmed their blood. We needed to be somewhere safe.
Brent found a good tree, sturdy and wide with enough low branches for us to start the climb. My pack weighed me down, and the guns on my hips dug into my thighs as I struggled upwards.
I reached overhead for a branch and pulled myself up. A soft hiss stopped me cold.
A yellow snake thicker than my waist lay coiled in the V of the tree branch, disturbed by my weight. Its black eyes were lidless, alien. I froze, halfway up onto the branch where the reptile waited. It stared at me and I couldn’t look away, hypnotized by the unblinking black eyes.
In a second the snake disappeared, shoved off its branch by the butt of Shiro’s rifle. I heard it crash into the underbrush below.
“Thanks,” I said, throwing a shaky leg over the newly-vacated branch.
“No problem,” he replied. He smiled and patted my back to reassure me. “First mission is always the hardest.”
I snorted. “First mission? You say that like they’re all like this?”
He stopped smiling. “No, they aren’t all like this. But any time we leave the fence-line there’s a risk. How many soldiers have we lost in the three years we’ve been on this scat-planet?” He shook his head.
I knew about loss. I still had my mom and my little sister Malia, safe behind electric wire at Eden base, but Horizon killed my father the day we entered Ceti’s orbit, the jungles of Eden had claimed my brother just three months ago, and I’d lost another brother last night.
I wasn’t going to lose anyone else.
Chapter 8
I slept fitfully in the tree, waking at every sound, every rustle of breeze that moved the branches where I’d wedged myself in. I had worried that I might roll right out of the tree in my sleep, but that worry—and all my other worries—kept me from sleeping deeply enough to forget where I was.
We took turns keeping watch as the day wore on, but we had climbed high enough into the canopy that we couldn’t see to the distant ground below. Lots of the smaller ‘saurs could climb trees, but a little zap with a lightning stick sent the little ones scurrying away. As long as the charges held on the sticks, we had little to fear in the high canopy. But we couldn’t stay here forever.
I took a portion of the day watch. An afternoon rainstorm pelted into the canopy above us. The leaves blocked the raindrops’ fall, and the branches filled with wet mist. I strained to see through the foliage, alert for any large movements below that would signal danger near our tree, but only the normal sounds of the jungle met my ears.
Brent had the final watch before the sun set and we resumed our journey. After waking him up, I curled back up in the V of the tree and tried to rest as best I could.
The rain had stopped by the time I awoke. The bits of sky I could see through the treetops were purple, and stars were coming into view when the General roused us all. He led the climb down and we paused near the bottom of the tree for him to toss down some smaller branches he’d broken off to make sure no camouflaged ‘saurs were waiting down there. No Gila curled around the trunk, and we dropped silently to the damp forest floor.
I had no idea how he knew where we were. Without the sunset to guide me, I was lost. But he started off confidently and we dropped into file behind him, in the same order as last night.
They put me in the middle so I won’t bolt. My feet were heavy in my wet boots.
I hoped we’d reach the mountains tonight. The thought of spending another night huddled in a treetop made my shoulders ache.
We stopped to split up some of the rations we’d brought from the downed transport. Some of the packaged food that had left Earth on Horizon two hundred years ago was still edible. Vacuum-packed protein bars tasted like nothing at all after their long trip through space, but at least they’d been sealed away from the little shrews that infested the crashed ship. Each of us ate a bar and drank from our canteens as we walked.
Shiro and Brent murmured behind me.
“How long will it take to get a shuttle out to us?” Brent asked.
Shiro answered, “Maybe an hour or two. Depends where we are and how easy it will be to land one.”
Brent grunted. “Bronton was our best pilot.”
“He was,” Shiro agreed. “But McCarthy will do fine. Don’t worry.”
“I’m not worried,” Brent said. The tremor in his voice revealed that was a lie.
I’m worried, I thought, but didn’t say it. They already knew.
In fits and starts, we made our way through the jungle. I lost count of how many times we stopped, holding our breath as we peered through the darkness to see what had made the General halt. Sometimes we would backtrack or change our course, and other times we waited tense moments before cautiously resuming our journey. The chirping songs of the smaller reptiles reassured us, but overconfidence on Ceti equaled a quick, bloody death, and we remained on high alert.
We stopped to fill our canteens when we came across a shallow stream. My boots soaked through in seconds and the chill of the water seeped into my skin.
Spotting an old rotted log resting on the bank, I set my canteen down and plopped onto it. The soft wood gave way beneath me and my legs flew up as my body plunged backwards into the collapsing seat.
“Oh, gross, what’s that smell?” I muttered, pulling myself up out of
the remains of the moist log. “Nasty rotten wood.”
Ms. Arnson looked as if she were going to smile, but then froze and cocked her head to the side. “Do you hear something?”
The hairs on the back of my neck stood up as my ears registered a faint noise, a high-pitched whine whose direction I couldn’t place.
She grabbed her pack from the ground and darted over to where I was trying to brush off my butt, sticky from the inside of the wet log.
“What did you do?” she murmured.
I pulled my hand up to my nose and sniffed the goo that was soaking into my pants. It smelled sour.
Not like rot.
Like ‘saur.
“It’s a nest,” Ms. Arnson said.
We peered into the cavity within the hollow log that I’d crashed through. A small clutch of tiny intact eggs surrounded a pile of broken, sticky shards, their beige shells crushed. Some of those shards were sticking out of my pants and I rubbed harder, trying to clean the goo off myself.
“I didn’t mean it,” I said. “What kind of ‘saur lays eggs in a log?”
Ms. Arnson looked up, the high-pitched whine coming from all around us now. She looked at me and we both spoke at the same time.
“Buzzers!”
The air around us exploded with noise and movement. Fist-sized, winged ‘saurs dive-bombed our party from all sides. Tiny, sharp-toothed mouths punctured our exposed flesh.
“What the . . .” the General sputtered. “Why are they attacking?”
I batted at the swarm, feeling small trickles of blood running down my face. “I . . . I sat on their nest,” I panted.
“Everybody move!”
I grabbed my canteen from the ground and swung it around me as I ran. We splashed upstream as the Buzzers bounced off us, taking mouthfuls of our skin and clothing with them. Their wings were delicate enough that a direct hit from my canteen sent them crashing into the stream, but there were hundreds of them, an enraged cloud of bloody teeth and talons.