by Kekla Magoon
“I hope we’ll be able to stay on longer than that on the real Weavers,” Siena commented. It wasn’t like they were going to be contestants in a rodeo. Two minutes was a pretty brief ride.
Anna waved her hand. “Yeah, sure. This is training. It’s extra hard on purpose so we can really see who are the best riders.”
“So far that’s Siena and Niko,” Colin said. Colin was the Light Blade’s resident alien—a clone of the alien Chris, who was traveling on the Cloud Leopard. An icier, more emotionless clone.
“Yeah,” Anna agreed. “They’re definitely going down to the surface.”
Siena and Niko smiled at each other.
“It’s between you and me, boss,” Ravi taunted the Omega crew leader as he climbed aboard the training horse. “Let me show you all how it’s done.”
The metal horse began to buck and twist. Thirty seconds later, the machine sent Ravi sprawling onto the mat. He landed flat on his back with a loud OOF.
“Dang,” Ravi said, grinning sheepishly up at the others. “That one doesn’t count.”
Everyone groaned. Anna clapped slowly. “Congratulations, Ravi. With a performance like that, you’re clearly a good fit for the mission.”
“Ha-ha,” Ravi said, jumping to his feet. “I know, I know. You want to go.”
Anna glanced at Colin. “Actually, I think you should go ahead.”
“Really?” Ravi asked. “How come?”
“Uh, there are other skills that will be needed for the mission,” Anna explained quickly. “It’s not all about riding.”
Siena was surprised at that. Anna always wanted to go on every planet mission. Something about it didn’t add up. What had changed?
“Great. Let’s go get ready,” Ravi said quickly, wanting to act before Anna could change her mind. The crew filed out of the training room, headed for their quarters. Siena glanced over her shoulder at Anna, bringing up the rear. She was smiling slightly.
There were always tricks and games afoot among the Light Blade crew. Siena had grown pretty tired of it actually. She didn’t feel like she could relax, even on board the ship, among her crewmates.
The Light Blade’s whole mission was a game really. The Omega crew had been sent after the Alphas in secret, by Commander Shawn Phillips’s father, Ike Phillips. The kids had become pawns in an interstellar game of chess between father and son. Which team would capture all the elements, restore energy to Earth, and reap the glory?
So far, at least as far as Siena could tell, there weren’t really any winners in this particular game. But that didn’t stop everyone from playing.
Anna wasn’t the only one with a competitive edge. Niko and Ravi seemed not to mind the cutthroat energy around here. They fed into it. Siena was tired of feeling like she had to work against everyone. They were supposed to be a team. They weren’t in training anymore, needing to prove themselves to each other or to the mission command staff. Now was a time to band together.
Not for the first time, Siena wondered what life aboard the Cloud Leopard would be like. She imagined it quite different than the Light Blade. The Cloud Leopard crew seemed always to be laughing together, even in the face of danger. It was clear they always had each other’s backs. No matter what.
Sometimes, when Anna and the others got into their competitive mode, Siena wanted to jump ship. Literally. Would the Cloud Leopard crew take her in? The traitorous thought rolled around in her head more often than she cared to admit.
It was terrible to think that way. She knew it. The guilt swamped her as she packed her kit alongside the guys. They gathered in the launch pad to load the Clipper, the Light Blade’s shuttle. It would have them on the planet’s surface in a matter of minutes.
“The Cloud Cat is away,” Colin reported, entering the chamber. “They’ve sent Gabriel, Carly, and Chris, surprisingly. It’s actually good, because—”
“Wait a minute,” Anna said sharply. “Let’s not discuss them right now.”
Colin smiled icily. He did not like being told what to do. That should never be forgotten.
But he stood quietly as the surface crew packed into the shuttle. Siena, Ravi, and Niko buckled up inside, then the Clipper slid out of the cargo bay doors.
“Okay,” Anna said. “Now that they’re off, we can talk freely about the Alpha team.”
“Let’s go to the flight deck,” Colin said. “There’s something I’d like to show you.”
The Cloud Cat skimmed the surface of Infinity. Gabriel, Carly, and Chris looked out the windows and studied the rocky terrain in awe.
“No wonder nothing survives on the surface,” Carly said. “It’s completely barren.” There wasn’t so much as a blade of grass or a river in sight. The smooth rock shone gray, awash in predawn light. The view created a somber mood in the landing craft.
In the distance, light glinted off the corner of something metal looming up on the horizon.
“Set it down over there,” Chris said. “That’s the Jackal compound.”
Gabriel brought the Cloud Cat to a smooth stop on the flattest stretch of rock he could find.
“This may be our last chance to communicate with the Cloud Leopard,” Chris informed them. “Once we’re underground, the rock will most likely block our signal.”
“At least they’ll see we’ve landed safely,” Carly said. “We’ll get in touch later if we can.”
They exited the landing craft one by one, and slowly made their way toward the compound’s entrance. Very slowly. It felt like their feet were weighed down.
“Is it me, or is it harder to move than it should be?” Gabriel asked. He felt kind of like he was walking through water.
“Oh, right. This is the gravity issue I mentioned,” Chris said. “The planet’s core is very dense. It’s the gravity.”
“Seriously,” Carly said. “It’s kind of a workout.” She tried to jump, but her feet barely left the ground.
Gabriel tried it too. “That’s totally freaky,” he said. He was used to being quick on his feet.
It wasn’t too bad once they got used to it. By the time they reached the tall metal doors, they barely noticed the bit of extra energy it took to walk.
Chris knocked on the door. The thick metal sheet thumped and rattled as he pounded.
“I’m sure they’ve seen us by now,” he commented, pointing up at a massive fish-eye lens mounted on the upper edge of the door frame. Jackal technology.
They waited.
And waited.
Nothing happened.
Carly glanced around, slightly nervous. Even though there was no specific threat on the surface of Infinity, she wanted to remain alert. On their last mission, the danger started the moment they set down on a planet.
Chris pounded on the door again.
Nothing.
“Very strange,” he said.
Gabriel shrugged. “We can greet the Jackals later. How do we get to the caves?”
“There are many entrances, but the most direct route is through their outpost,” Chris answered. “They’ve built access tunnels. And mapped the interior.”
Gabriel reached for the door handle. He twisted the knob, and the door swung open inward, revealing a dark foyer.
“We can’t enter without permission,” Chris protested. “That definitely goes against Jackal hospitality protocol.”
“It’s open,” Carly said. “So it’s not like we’re breaking and entering.”
“It should be locked,” Chris murmured. “This is very strange indeed.”
“We need those maps,” Gabriel insisted. “We’re on a schedule here.”
“We don’t have a choice,” Carly agreed. She followed Gabriel into the dim space.
As they stepped inside, a string of bulbous orange lights illuminated the space. They were like the strings of bulbs people put on their roofs around the holidays, only much bigger. The size of gallon milk jugs.
The foyer narrowed to a corridor that wound slightly downhill. The lights along each row came on one b
y one, disappearing around the bend at the bottom of the slope.
Chris took the lead, apparently coming around to agree that they had to proceed. “I’m not sure this is best,” he said as he walked. “But, considering our time limitations….” His voice trailed off.
The corridor ended in a large living room. The space was full of institutional furniture, like you might find in a dentist’s waiting room. Rows of slightly cushioned chairs with upholstery that looked like leather, separated by low coffee tables. More of the bulbous orange lamps stuck out of the tables like crystal balls or neon pumpkins. The whole place had a warm, fiery glow.
Gabriel touched the back of one of the chairs. It was slick, gray-green, and vaguely familiar. “Is it me, or does that look like…?”
Chris nodded. “Sawtooth skin. Good for all-weather clothing and upholstery. Very durable.”
Carly and Gabriel exchanged a glance. Skinning Saws didn’t sound like anyone’s idea of fun.
Several dark corridors snaked away from the central waiting room. As soon as Carly walked toward the mouth of one hall, it lit up. Like the entryway, the corridor was lined with strings of colored lights on both sides. Instead of being all orange, it was only orange on the left. The string of lights on the right hand side was all green.
Gabriel walked toward a different hallway, and that one lit up orange and blue. It turned out that the lights in each hallway had orange, plus a different color. Green. Blue. White. Brown. Red.
“It’s for navigation,” Chris explained. “The left-hand lights stand for the room you are coming from. The right-hand lights tell you which room you’re going to.”
“That’s smart.” Carly had a feeling they were only starting to be impressed by the Jackals’ technology.
“Jackals are an advanced race,” Chris said. “The team on Infinity is primarily explorers and research scientists. Everything is systematized.” He glanced around. “If I recall correctly, green leads to the research division. They must be down there working.”
“Maybe that’s why they didn’t hear us knock,” Carly suggested.
They followed the green lights. The corridor led to a cluster of glass-walled laboratories.
Dozens of labs.
None were occupied.
In fact, none looked like they had been occupied for a very long time.
The first lab they entered contained a lot of complicated-looking machinery. There were shelves of test tubes, graduated cylinders, and what looked like neon Tupperware. Lights glowed on some of the machines, but none emitted any sound. Not even the barest hum of a running refrigerator.
Gabriel ran his finger over the countertop and picked up a layer of dust. He wiped it quickly on his pants, and shivered slightly. This eerie outpost, with its abandoned labs, totally skeeved him out.
“They’ve gone,” Chris said, sounding disappointed. “When they didn’t answer the door, I knew something wasn’t right.”
“They left all their stuff, it looks like,” Gabriel said. He picked up an empty canister that might have once held crayons. The opaque plastic walls appeared smudged with colorful wax. He shook it upside down, as if something invisible could fall out. Nothing but a puff of dust emerged.
“Let’s keep looking,” Carly said. “Maybe we’ll still find something we can use.”
The next lab appeared to be devoted to the study of Stingers. One wall had a grid of small and medium-sized animal cages, like you might find full of mice or birds in a biology lab back on Earth. They were empty.
The wall held a series of anatomical pictures of Stingers: front view, side views, top view, belly view. A close-up on the crazy-looking barbed tail. Framed beside it was a real live skeleton under glass. And beside that, a detailed artist’s rendering of the Stinger’s internal organs.
Gabriel took a close look at the skeleton. “So this is what we’re up against.” He grinned. “Doesn’t look so terrible.”
“Famous last words,” Carly muttered.
Carly examined a rack of what appeared to be surgical tools—knives and scalpels, scissors and forceps, mallets and straight pins, tweezers and clamps of all shapes and sizes. “Yikes,” she said. “You could do a lot of damage with this arsenal.”
Gabriel noticed a small jar of what looked like BBs resting on the countertop. “Hey, look!” he said. “Aren’t these the spores we need?”
Chris glanced at the jar. “Yeah, looks like it,” he said. “But that is not nearly enough. We need a thousand, remember?”
The jar contained maybe twenty. Gabriel shook it, and the spores rattled like a maraca. “That’s music to my ears,” he said. “Twenty down, only nine thousand, nine hundred, and eighty to go!”
Carly rolled her eyes. “Woo-hoo. We really put a dent in the spore count just now.” She laughed, raising her fists in a pretend celebration. “But seriously,” she added, “maybe we should poke around and look for some more.” She started opening cabinets. It made sense to stay positive, but she knew there was no chance they could avoid facing down the live Stingers.
“I doubt these will be fresh enough,” Chris warned. “The toxin’s potency will have faded over time.”
“Better safe than sorry.” Jar in hand, Gabriel swung his backpack off and began to unzip it.
“No,” Chris said sharply. “We cannot take that without permission.”
Gabriel blew the layer of dust off the lid and popped the jar into his backpack anyway. “The place is deserted. What’s the big deal?”
A slight mechanical sound whirred from somewhere above and behind them.
Carly spun around.
The fish-eye camera mounted high in one corner traced a slow arc within its frame. Carly looked at it for a moment, wondering if someone was looking back at her.
“This place gives me the creeps,” Gabriel said. He led the way back into the hall. “Let’s get on with it. How do we find these Sawtooth tunnels?”
“Listen,” Carly said. A soft whinnying sound carried through the hallways from someplace out of sight. “Do you hear that?”
Gabriel cocked his head and listened. “Yeah, what is it?”
“Sounds like Weavers, maybe,” Carly mused. “Come on. I can’t wait to see them.” The whinnying drew her like a beacon of light amid the darkness. It sounded so familiar, so warm.
“It is bad enough that we are in their space without proper admittance,” Chris said. His usually monotone voice betrayed a hint of nervousness. “We cannot take too many liberties.”
“We have a job to do,” Gabriel said. “And no one’s here.”
With Carly leading the way, they followed the sound. This corridor was lined with green and black lights. Before long, they found themselves at the edge of a deep, high-ceilinged cavern. The entrance to the large open space was protected by a narrow gate of two horizontal bars.
“A quick look will not hurt anything,” Chris conceded. “Since we’re already this far inside. But we cannot borrow them without permission.” Chris unclasped the gate latch at one side and swung it open.
Carly and Gabriel stepped past him into the Weaver enclosure. The black animals roamed free in their allotted space. Two strolled around the stony pasture, while the other four dipped and swirled in the air, stretching their wings.
“Whoa,” Gabriel blurted out. “They really are like horses with wings. Crazy.”
The Weavers looked quite real to him, like a thing that could have been found back on Earth, unlike so many of the beings they’d encountered. And yet, they were so clearly “other.”
They smelled musky and dark—if a thing could smell dark—and they radiated calmness and grace. One of the Weavers cantered straight toward Carly. It pressed its damp muzzle against her shoulder, sniffing curiously. She reached up and stroked its silken black mane. The strands felt liquid smooth, like passing her hand through a flowing stream of water.
“Hey, you,” she whispered. “How are you? Nice to meet you.”
The Weaver whinnied, soun
ding so much like an Earth horse that Carly grew homesick. She reached up and hugged the creature’s sinewy neck, and the Weaver stood still and allowed it. If she closed her eyes, she could imagine she was standing in a grassy field surrounded by lush Japanese countryside. The Weaver breathed a gentle gust from his nose, and Carly swore she smelled her mother’s cooking on the breeze. This is the one she would ride, Carly decided then and there.
Gabriel looked around the edges of the pen. A row of six saddles hung on one wall. Helmets, reins, bits, crops, and other riding gear rested on a set of shelves. Beside that hung a rack of wicked-looking swords.
“Yikes,” Gabriel said, upon seeing those long swords. These were definitely not dulled and blunted for sparring. They were the real deal, and much longer than the practice pair up on the ship. Each saddle had two fat sword scabbards, one on each side. “Maybe the Jackals sword-fight two-handed. That’s nuts.”
He backed away from the arsenal slowly. He headed over toward Carly and the Weavers. For Gabriel, the horselike creatures felt even less familiar than the crazy swords. He had ridden once, a long time ago, but…Oh, boy.
He stood still as a statue as one of the Weavers began to nudge and sniff him. It was so tall. So alive.
A few feet away, Carly was all nuzzled up against her Weaver, stroking its mane.
Nope. I’m not hugging you, dude, Gabriel thought. He tentatively patted the Weaver’s nose. The Weaver snuffled, casting a tiny wind around his fingers. Gabriel flinched.
Navigation was his thing. That’s why he was here. The reality of the whole “riding a horse” thing…He swallowed hard. He sort of hadn’t given it much thought up until now.
He hoped the Weavers turned out to be as easy to steer as a go-cart or the Cloud Cat. He could drive pretty much anything that didn’t have a mind of its own. As the Weaver gazed upon him with deep, liquid eyes, Gabriel knew this adventure was going to be a bit different.
“We’re going to have to borrow them, permission or not,” Carly commented. “Unless there’s something you’re not telling us about the Jackals, Chris, in which case, now would be a good time to clue us in,” she added, turning around.