Wings of Earth- Season One

by Eric Michael Craig

  He pulled out his hand scanner and flipped it on. The screeching seemed much closer this far off the trail and he glanced around before he looked at the screen. “Looks like he’s running right toward the camp.”

  “That will be a problem,” she said, raising her voice and leaning toward him to be heard over the din, “but I don’t like the thought of being eaten, more than I’m worried about the one that got away.”

  “At least we can see where he is with this,” he said. “It means he won’t sneak up on us.”

  “Yah, but we won’t sneak up on frakking anything as long as you’ve got it turned on.”

  “Exactly,” he said, grinning at her. “That gives us two tools to use against him. If he’s smart, he’ll be listening to the voices of the jungle.”

  Chapter Thirty-Five

  Ethan sprawled flat on his back staring up at the darkening sky. His PSE was dead. Completely and utterly. He’d powered down his exoshell almost three hours ago and his liner flat lined more than an hour before they stopped walking. He was in good shape so he’d managed to muscle it in, but he could feel his circulatory system refusing to push his blood to his head. After lying down, he propped his feet up on a rock to help keep his brain powered, but it was giving him more than a trivial headache.

  He knew tonight would be his night. In the morning, he wouldn’t be moving well enough to travel further.

  He rolled his head to the side and looked at Angel. She was lying face down and looking almost as bad as he felt. Her power had only lasted an hour longer than his, but her liner had stayed active until she hit the dirt. “How are you doing?” he whispered. He couldn’t muster even enough energy to talk in a normal voice.

  “Better than you I bet,” she said. “I know you walked half the afternoon with no suit.”

  “Yah, I’m a bit uncomfortable.” He craned his neck to look around at Nuko and Tash. They sat near the edge of their rope ring, whispering to each other.

  Nuko glanced in his direction and rocking up onto her hands and knees crawled over to him. She stayed above him and hung over his face. Her suit still had power and just watching her hang in that position made him tired.

  “Something’s up,” she whispered.

  He raised an eyebrow but didn’t respond.

  “Look over my shoulder up into the trees.” She shifted a little to make sure he had a clear line of sight. “About thirty meters up. Do you see him?”

  Ethan shook his head, but then a slight motion caught his eye. “It looks like Isaiah. Maybe that’s the rescue party.”

  She shook her head. “I don’t think so. Tash says he’s being sloppy. She noticed him when he knocked a branch down and it hit the ground just outside the zo’mar ring. She swears he’d never make that kind of mistake unless he was rushing.”

  “If it’s not a rescue party what’s he doing?”

  “He looks like he’s fixated on something back in the direction we came.” She dropped down beside him and turned over to look up into the trees. “He’s barely looked down at us. It’s like he’s worried about something behind us.”

  “Angel are you scanning this?” he asked, turning to face her.

  She’d rolled onto her back and nodded. “I see him now. He’s in a position that leaves him overexposed to us but not visible to someone coming from up the river.”

  Tash had eased up next to Angel and was watching the Ut’arans. “Look at the wakats. They’re acting strange, too. There’s something out there that’s got them spooked.”

  Ethan tilted his head up and dragged his arm under it to keep it propped in a position where he could see the rest of the natives. Most were doing their usual evening rituals and getting ready for the night. But Moktoh, the wakat he recognized as Mir’ah’s personal companion, was walking in circles around her while she talked to one of the others. Even being alien, it was obvious he was agitated about something.

  “Something’s coming,” he said.

  “Maybe it’s the rescue party?” she said.

  Angel shook her head. “If it is, why’s he hiding from it?” she asked, pointing her chin at the man in the tree.

  Tash bit down on her lip. “When Mir’ah attacked the Rockpile, we thought they got in through the top egress hatch. The Windwalkers bunkrooms are up there. You don’t think they let them in do you?”

  “It doesn’t matter, but from how he’s acting I don’t think he’s here to help,” Nuko said. “We’d be safer assuming that his arrival means trouble.”

  “At least until we know—”

  The rest of his thought vanished as an explosion of chaos erupted in the jungle just beyond their protective ring of stones.

  “What the frak?” Angel growled as everything around them leapt into motion at once.

  “Is it one of those predators?”

  Tash shook her head as she stood up. “It would have to be a whole pack of them to create that much commotion. Korah are lone hunters.”

  “Stay down,” Angel roared. She sacrificed what little battery she had left to power up and yank her back to the ground. “If it’s a rescue party, the shooting is about to start.”

  Ethan looked back into the trees to see what Isaiah was doing but he’d vanished. It wasn’t until a cascade of branches and leaves caught his attention that the captain realized the Windwalker was tumbling out of the tree toward the river. He heaved himself over in time to see him crash down into the water in a tangle of mangled limbs. From the way he hit, it didn’t look like there was any way he’d survived the fall.

  Twisting to look up into the canopy, he saw a single Ut’aran hanging out into the air by one arm while he fished frantically in his pouch for something. He pulled out a pistol and started firing into the camp.

  “Somebody’s armed the natives!” he hollered, pointing up into the tree as the closest wakats started screaming. More than a dozen rounds found targets but most of them climbed back to their feet. It took a second stunner hit to leave them face down and twitching.

  The noise in the jungle made it hard for the Ut’arans to identify where the shots were coming from, although after another wave of wakats started dropping, Mir’ah caught on to the fact that the attack was coming from above. Barking orders like a seasoned warrior, she got control of the chaos and pointed up at the enemy position. A swarm of the enraged beasts launched themselves toward the base of the tree.

  Ethan watched as the attacker realized that retaliation was moving in his direction, and rather than retreat, he swung down to land on a lower branch. Jamming his back against the trunk of the tree, he crouched low and pulled out a second pistol. As he dropped into his new position it was obvious that, although the person was not wearing a PSE, or even armor, he was definitely too big to be Ut’aran. He had to be human.

  Then he realized he was too big to be human, too.

  Quinn?

  “Holy fraking shit! It’s Quinn!” Ethan yelled as adrenaline surged through him and he shoved himself to his feet.

  Nuko stared at him like he’d lost his mind, but he pointed to the branch where the handler was firing at the approaching wakat hoard. Bodies were piling up around the base of the tree, but it looked like the tide of alien flesh was gaining ground.

  “He won’t hold them all off,” Angel hissed, pushing herself to her feet and scanning the area around them for something she could use as a weapon. Her suit was running on borrowed time and he could see in her face that she was moving by pure force of will.

  “Is he naked?” Tash asked as she spotted him.

  “I think so, but I don’t really want to know.” Ethan shook his head and tried to make sense of the chaos.

  Nuko launched herself toward the tree, intent on doing as much damage as she could with her augmented strength. She was the only one who still had the reserve in her suit to run it at full output. Grabbing the nearest wakat by the arm, she spun once around and flung the creature headfirst into a tree stump. It didn’t even twitch as its skull exploded and it c
rumpled down in a lifeless heap. She turned, looking for another victim as two of them launched themselves at her.

  Angel dove for one wakat, snagging it by the foot and crashing onto it with her full weight as it toppled forward. They plowed into the dirt face down and she slid up its back before it could react. Bringing her arm around into a choke hold, she hung on as it pushed up and dragged her away toward a tree. It thrashed backward with flailing fists but never had a good enough angle to land a hard blow. She clung to the wakat’s back, squeezing harder until its thrashing weakened and it dropped.

  Ethan knew he couldn’t move well enough to join the fight, but the adrenaline accelerated his mind and he caught flashes of shocking violence in vivid detail.

  He stared for an eternally long second at Nuko. Blood covered her and his heart skipped a beat. Or two. She had an odd shaped club in her hand and was using it to beat on another wakat. It took him several swings to realize that it wasn’t a club at all. It was an arm. She’d ripped it off one of the creatures and was beating another one to death with the bloody end.

  He turned as another sound sliced through his shock. Another layer of confusion erupted on the opposite side of the camp as a second Ut’aran charged into the battle, also brandishing a pair of pistols. This time the new wave of violence centered on their captors and not their companion pets.

  As he watched in amazement, the newcomer cut steadily through the camp. The light of the setting sun had grown too dim to make out details, but he could see silhouettes of motion in the crackling sparks of stunner pellets erupting against Ut’aran skin.

  Whoever it was, stood head and shoulders taller than the tallest of the Ut’arans., This person wasn’t a native either, even though she wore nothing but a belt pouch. She? His mouth fell open as he recognized Ammo charging in his direction.

  He snapped his head back and forth several times. This can’t be real!

  The sounds of fighting echoed further into the back of his mind. He suddenly felt disconnected, as the moments stretched into a blur of indefinite time. He realized that his vision seemed to fade with the dying light, and he stumbled backward toward the river, unable to keep his feet under him.

  Fortunately, the water cushioned his fall, even as its shocking cold forced a strange gurgling scream from his lungs. He bobbed in the water as reality swirled in odd ripples around him. The sky spun overhead. Faint orange streamers of the setting sun glowed against the violet clouds of night.

  He blinked his eyes.

  “Ethan stay with me,” Nuko said, her voice strangely muffled across the distance.

  A shadow hung over him, blotting out the stars. A head and shoulders. A face too dark to see. It was her. She was holding on to him. He could feel her trembling.

  “Marti, bring the shuttle now,” another voice said. “We’ve got them but the captain’s down.”

  “I’m in the water,” he whispered. A metallic taste filled his mouth. Strange, hot and salty.

  “ETA ninety seconds,” Ammo said. She appeared over the shoulder of the shadow.

  “He’s awake,” Nuko said.

  “Kaycee wants us to give him a dose of juice. She says the adrenaline will keep his heart beating.”

  “Quinn?” he asked, this time he recognized the taste. It was blood.

  He blinked again. Somehow, in that instant, when he opened his eyes, Naked Ammo had replaced Nuko. Daylight flooded the entire area. No, not daylight, it’s moving. Bright arcing lights and long shadows danced on the edge of the jungle.

  “Are you really naked?” he whispered.

  “Yah, blame Quinn,” she said, grinning sidewise at him. She had something in her hand and was fiddling with it. “This will be interesting. You two hold him still in case he bounces.” She glanced up at someone above his head and nodded. He tried to look at them, but the light was so bright he had to close his eyes again.

  There was a stab in his thigh. Then he exploded.

  Every nerve in his body screamed in agony and he heard something howling. When he stopped to drag in another breath, he realized it was him. A horrific pain in his chest and shoulder sliced through his reality and he thrashed his arms wildly trying to clutch at it.

  “What the holy fuck?” he roared, trying to shake free of the pain and whatever had him pinned to the ground.

  “Ethan be still, you’ve got an arrow through you,” Nuko said, reappearing above him.

  He shook his head, but with his vibrating nervous system, moving even that much threatened to wrench another scream from him.

  “We must get him on the shuttle,” Marti said. “A landing party has just departed Watchtower Station. ETA six minutes.”

  “Get me up, I can walk,” he said, not realizing the insanity of his words.

  Ammo set her hand in the middle of his chest and held him down.

  In the distance, he heard another hissing crackle that his brain identified as a stunner round. “We’ve got to move,” someone said. It was the handler, but he struggled to put his name to the voice. “I’m down to ten rounds and they’re all starting to wake up. These are some tough little bastages. Especially the boss lady. She just won’t stay down.”

  “She speaks our language,” the captain hissed as Marti’s glowing artificial face flooded his vision and it slipped its cold arms under him. “We should take her with us. She knows things.”

  “Of course, she does,” Ammo said. “She’s been implanted.”

  Chapter Thirty-Six

  “They were not Marat akUt’ar. They were not Marat akEr’tah.” Mir’ah squatted with her head down, not looking at Parker as he glared at her. He held a small upload stick in his hand and watched as the file loaded to her implant.

  She shouldn’t be able to speak to him at all until the transfer was complete, since the language file didn’t remain in her long-term memory. She had to be linked to his controller to understand human language.

  At least that was how it was supposed to work.

  “What happened to Walker?” he asked, deciding not to wait until the file finished to ask questions.

  “Kep’tan Woh’kah mor’et… dead,” she said, glancing up at him but not rising. “Arrow kill him and korah e’eet. We’ir sharrah. He die in river. I see it.”

  “What about the others?”

  “All run to sharrah. Korah e’eet, yes.”

  “How do you know?” he glanced down at the upload stick. The completed indicator light blinked green. The file was in her implant but would not transfer to her brain until he toggled the activation switch.

  “I know sound, big loud. Yes. Korah. Loud in sharrah. See?” She snapped her head toward the tree where it looked like a war had happened. There were several dead wakat and several more that looked to be dying.

  “Boss, a moment?” His tactical team leader stood off to the side looking at a small screen in her hand.

  “Mir’ah, do not move.” He held off on finishing the activation as he walked over to get the officer’s report.

  “Can you tell what happened yet?”

  “A small invasion,” she said. “Or maybe a tribal war?”

  “You think it was other Ut’arans?”

  “Not really. There are enough stunner casings under that tree to look more like an invasion than other natives,” she said.

  “Stunner casings? That means it has to be humans,” he snarled.

  “I’d say that’s likely, but I don’t know who.”

  “It’s got to be someone from the ship.”

  She shook her head. “Not unless they have twenty handlers in that ship that we don’t know about. As far as I know, all but three of them came down for your little safari. There’s no way the other three could have pulled of this kind of attack.”

  “It would actually have to be two people, because I know the doctor is still up there. But why do you say that?”

  “Your pet here has almost fifty in her war party. Plus, the monkey-dogs. The video shows she took no losses when she attac
ked the Rockpile. Zero. Except for one wakat that discovered electricity is bad magic and the one that got body slammed by Captain Walker.” She stopped and turned to face the carnage below the tree. “Do you really think two humans without battle armor and artillery could have done this?”

  It was a good point, but Parker was a terminal skeptic. “The prisoners probably helped.”

  “In dead PSE? After a two-day death-march, they’d be lucky to stand upright on flatlined batteries.”

  “How do you explain the casings then?” he challenged.

  “Either the Windwalkers turned over and helped them, or another Ut’aran tribe got inside the Rockpile and found the armory.”

  He shook his head. “The natives are clever, but to assume they learned how to use stunners and then attacked here is implausible at best.”

  “So is a two-person rescue party doing this much damage.” She rolled her eyes. “Especially while fighting uphill against two-g, without exosuits.”

  “Do we know they didn’t have PSE?”

  “You’ve got a witness and she knows what a suit looks like,” she said. “It’s why she calls you the shiny man.”

  Parker turned and stared at Mir’ah for almost a minute before he nodded. “I’ll talk to her, and you see if you can track down Isaiah and his people.”

  “Yes sir,” she said, pivoting and walking toward where her team was waiting for instructions. He watched her giving instructions and could tell that none of them were happy about her orders to search the jungle at night for their missing men.

  Unfortunately, he knew it was a blind chase since there was no way the Windwalkers could have turned. All of them had volunteered to take the implant as a term of their posting to the planet. But they needed to at least find the bodies.

  “Tuula Mir’ah, join me,” he said, walking toward the riverbank.

  She slid up beside him, never raising her eyes. He did not turn to face her. Instead, he stood listening to the murmur of the wind in the trees and the almost inaudible hiss of the water on the sand.

  After several minutes with no words she asked, “Is Marat akUt’ar not good Mir’ah?”