Once the light was ready, I loaded the sniper rifle with an explosive round and fired it straight into the dead tree. The ancient arbor had no foliage. It was just a huge trunk that rose up several dozen meters. The rail gun popped as it flung the explosive round toward the tree at super-sonic speed. The tree exploded, sending wood flying in all directions.
In the village, there were shrieks and cries from the Prog. Some fell to the ground and covered their heads, wailing in fear. Some ran to their pod-like homes and wiggled into the frail structures. I could have blasted all the hive-shaped hovels, but I refrained, as burning bits of wood lit up the clearing like the scene from a holiday movie. I saw some of the Prog ready their blowguns and others took up atlatls and small spears as they searched the darkness for their protagonist. I would have liked to simply stay hidden on the boulder, blasting away at the shaggy creatures, but the risk that I would be seen and attacked was too great. I had no way of knowing how well the Prog could see at night. My helmet’s night vision allowed me to see in the village, but if the Prog attacked me, I would be forced back into the jungle, where my helmet’s capabilities faltered.
I dropped a tungsten slug into the LRRG and made sure the sniper rifle was ready to fire, then I checked the safety on my assault rifle. My entire plan hinged on being able move quickly once I had freed Gloria. I couldn’t worry that my weapons wouldn’t shoot if the Prog were unwilling to negotiate. Once everything was ready, with my heart pounding in my chest like a sledge hammer, I connected the wires of the headlight to the battery and stuffed it into the wrapping. The gauzy bandage glowed in the dark. It took a moment for the Prog to notice it, but once they did, they slowly approached.
The light from my makeshift object illuminated me and my weapons, but I held my hands up. The Prog hooted and chirped, pointing at me with long fingers. Some of the warriors approached slowly, their weapons held ready. I watched them warily, hoping they wouldn’t attack. In the distance I could see Gloria. She was on her feet and leashed to the stake, just as I had been in the Vena village.
One Prog came closer than the rest. It was a female, with a large hump and places on her shoulders and hips where the hair had fallen out. She also had a necklace made of bones, and in one hand she carried what appeared to be a Gral quill.
“I want the woman,” I said in a loud voice. “I’ll trade.”
The Prog hooted, but didn’t understand me, not that I expected them to. I turned on my Command Helmet’s translation app. All I had was the Vena language, but I decided it was worth a try.
“I want to trade for your prisoner,” I said, once more pointing to Gloria.
My helmet translated my words and projected an odd-sounding series of barks, and yips. The Prog dashed back, away from me. I hated leaving the sniper rifle, but it was a chance I had to take. I jumped down from the rocks, carrying the glowing orb I had constructed as I walked into the village.
“I will give this light of the gods,” I said, “in exchange for the captive.”
The woman with the Gral quill barked at me and my helmet projected the word WHY on my Heads Up Display.
“She is my kind,” I said, holding out the orb.
The female leader of the Prog paused for a moment, then barked again.
NO WANT LIGHT, WANT WEAPON
It was the one thing I couldn’t give up. I needed my weapons if we were going to make it back to the Base Camp alive.
“Take the orb,” I said. “Be blessed by the gods. Don’t anger them.”
ARE YOU A GOD the female Prog asked.
“We come from the stars,” I replied.
NO TRADE she said suddenly and turned her back to me.
The rest of the village was watching. I was so angry at first, I wanted to shoot the female alien. I could feel rage coursing through my veins. Had the Vena Money captured lied to us about the IX gas? From what I had seen in the Vena village with it’s memorial tree, it made sense that they revered the glowing crystals from the volcano. Why wouldn’t the Prog accept my makeshift orb the same? I looked at the aliens gathered around me. I could probably kill half of them before they hit me with their toxic darts or slender spears. But that wouldn’t do Gloria any good, and the Prog would get my weapons.
Suddenly, I realized this was all just theater to the female Prog. She wanted what I had, but she couldn’t simply take what I was offering. She needed to show her people that she could get me to give up something. It was a dance, a display of prowess no different than in combat. She could give up Gloria as long as it looked like she had bested me.
“The Orb, and a small weapon,” I said, drawing my sidearm from it’s holster.
The Prog female turned, and I held the pistol up and fired it into the trees. Most of the villagers watching the exchange ducked, but the female leader only squinted at me. I popped out the magazine, hit the slide release to break down the pistol, and laid the separate pieces on the ground along with the orb. Then I took hold of my rifle.
“Give me the woman.”
The Prog leader waved her hand, and two of the young warriors ran to Gloria and unleashed her. She limped between them, not saying a word. I felt somewhat relieved. I had given up more than I wanted to trade, but the orb was worthless to me, and with the gun disassembled we would be able to get out of the village before they could use it against us.
TAKE THIS ONE the female Prog said, waving at Gloria. The warriors released her, and she moved by my side.
“Get the sniper rifle off those rocks,” I told Gloria without taking my eyes off the Prog.
The aliens moved closer, and I waved my rifle back and forth as I continued backing out of the village. My back tingled and I felt like the Prog warriors would leap on me at the slightest misstep.
“I’ve got it,” Gloria said.
“Alright, let’s get out of here. Nice and easy. I’ll lead the way. You watch the villagers.”
Gloria put one hand on my pack and walked backward, watching the Prog as I led us away into the trees. Once we were out of sight of the village I knew we had to put some distance between us.
“Can you run?” I asked.
“Absolutely,” Gloria said.
“What about that limp.”
“I was faking,” Gloria said. “I didn’t want them to know I was okay after they beat on me last night.”
“Tied to the stake?” I asked.
“Like savages. But I gave as good as I got. At first anyway.”
“I’ve been there. Let’s go.”
We ran, stumbling through the murky darkness. It wasn’t a fast retreat, but it was faster than walking. Once we were at least a kilometer from the village — it was hard to judge the distance in the dark— I stopped. Gloria was wheezing, struggling to catch her breath. We were at the base of a huge tree. I could see thick branches overhead.
“Up we go,” I said. “Use the vines to climb.”
“Are you sure?”
“Yes,” I said, shrugging off my pack and tying one of the vines to it.
I had to break down the sniper rifle and stow it back in the pack. Gloria reached a wide limb just as I started up. The vine was rough, and the strange red bark of the tree was craggy. I got up to the branch, then hauled my pack up. The branch was slightly wider than I was, and I felt relatively safe for the moment.
“Have you got any thing to eat in that pack?” Gloria asked.
“Enough MREs for a feast,” I said.
“Great, I’m starving.”
We took out the food and ate, talking in whispers.
“Took you long enough to get here,” she said. “Where’s the rest of the platoon?”
“It’s just me,” I said. “Captain Rigel wouldn’t let anyone else come with me.”
“Are you kidding me? You were sent out on a rescue mission alone?”
“It’s not my first rodeo,” I said.
“But there are five platoons of Space Marines on planet. None could be spared for a rescue op?”
; “You already know the answer,” I said. I wanted to explain that Captain Rigel was a sociopath who didn’t care how many enlisted Marines died, as long as he could show his superiors that the mission was a tactical success. Yet, I didn’t know how much access the arrogant commander might have to my Command Helmet. I didn’t want to say anything that might give away the fact that I couldn’t stand my CO.
“And you were okay with that?”
I pointed at my helmet and made a listening gesture.
“I came. There was no way I could leave you behind,” I said. She seemed to accept the answer. I don’t know how much of her acceptance was because of what I said, or because she understood I couldn’t say more. “We’ll rest here tonight, and head back to the Base Camp at first light.”
“You think it will be that easy?”
“We might get lucky,” I said.
She winked at me, which I could see with my helmet’s night vision. She was grinning.
“Maybe,” she said. “But momma’s got a headache tonight.”
After she ate, and drank some water from my canteen, Gloria leaned back on my pack and slept. I used some rope to secure us both to the tree’s stout limb. The last thing I needed, was one of us to roll out of the tree and break a leg. We were nearly fifteen meters off the ground. A fall could be fatal.
My long hike had worn me down, and my eyes drooped with fatigue. But sleep was out of the question. There were several more hours before dawn, but it was dangerous to sleep. I had to keep watch. I had to remain vigilant. Rescuing Gloria had been the easy part. The real difficulty would be getting back to the Base Camp alive.
Chapter 25
The Prog arrived just before dawn. I was struggling to stay alert on my perch when I caught movement on the ground. A lone figure was approaching our tree. The tall, shaggy creature was bent almost double. I couldn’t tell if it was from the huge hump on the Prog’s back, or if it was because the alien was following our tracks.
I had moved out from the trunk of the tree along the wide branch Gloria and I were perched on. I had my pack nestled in front of me where the wide branch forked out. Snapping the Sharps LRRG was easy enough. I used my pack as a support for the long-barreled rifle. My CR 2280 was still slung around my neck, and I was regretting having given up my pistol.
The Prog moved forward, occasionally bending low to examine something on the ground in a little more detail. I had the drop on the lone figure, but there was little doubt the aliens had more trackers out searching for us. If I took the Prog out with my rifle, it would alert the others. I decided to try and stop the tracker as silently as possible.
Moving carefully, I stood up and moved back to where Gloria was still asleep. I touched her leg, and she jerked upright to a sitting position, her eyes wide with fright. I held a finger up over the front of my helmet where my mouth would have been. The sky above was just turning gray, and enough light filtered through the canopy that Gloria could see me. I handed her my assault rifle and pointed down. She looked, but the ground was still shrouded in gloom. I held up one finger, then pointed at myself. I drew my combat knife, and pointed down.
Gloria nodded. I could see her face in the murky green of my night vision. She looked worried, and I couldn’t blame her. She was a capable fighter, but she didn’t have armor. And without a helmet, she was blind in the jungle at night. Nor did she have access to the GPS system that would lead us back to the Base Camp. Still, I couldn’t worry about that as I carefully raised the same vine I had used to raise my pack up into the tree. Moving slowly was key. The Prog could see in the darkness if it was following my tracks, and I didn’t want the movement of the vine to give our position away. The huge tree might give us a slight advantage in a fight, but we would be trapped, unable to escape. That thought made me even more anxious than the crazy stunt I had concocted to stop the tracker.
Taking hold of the vine, about three meters from where it reached the limb I was standing on, I gripped it as tightly as I could with my left hand. Waiting on my prey was by far the hardest thing to do. I couldn’t launch my attack too quickly. The plan only worked if the Prog was right below our position. The hunched tracker followed our sign to the base of the tree, just as I expected him to. The shaggy creature looked around, expecting more tracks, but there were none. Then he looked at the tree. My moment had come. There was no time for second-guessing or even hesitation. I jumped, keeping my feet pointed toward the ground as I fell. At first, the fall felt as if it were happening is super slow motion. I saw the tree, and Gloria — who looked mortified, and even the thick branch we had sheltered on. But then everything happened much more quickly. I fell three meters and kept falling, the vine burning my hand as I squeezed as hard as I could to try and slow my fall. It worked to an extent, but my momentum swung my legs away from my target and I hit the Prog with my butt instead of my boots.
I had hoped to knock the creature out cold, or at least silence him quickly. Instead, the tracker wailed in pain and fright as I crashed into him. The creature’s thick hump caused me to roll to the side, and I had to scramble on my knees to get close enough to use my knife. The Prog hooted twice before I plunged my knife into the side of it’s head. My combat knife wedged in the poor creature’s skull. I had to get to my feet, pin the Prog’s head with my boot, and shift the blade back and forth to work it free.
There were more hoots nearby, and I had just enough time to jump behind a tree as a troop of Prog jogged into the clearing. I was in a bad spot at the base of the tree with only my combat knife. Worse still, the light was beginning to reach the ground, which washed out the night vision of my Command Helmet. When I switched over to normal vision, the shadows were long and deep, making my visibility even worse.
I could hear the Prog hooting around the fallen tracker on the other side of the tree. I dashed forward and quickly ducked down into a leafy group of bushes. The wide alien flora hid me from casual observation, but I had no way to communicate with Gloria. If she got nervous and started shooting, we were lost.
The hooting and grunts became more pronounced. I was squatting down. I peered through the leaves. The troop of aliens was looking around, searching for me. I had no doubt I was their target. The fallen tracker was evidence that I was nearby, but fortunately for me, it didn’t appear that the newcomers could follow my trail. They were hoping to catch sight of me, and began to spread out through the trees.
I risked a glance up where Gloria was perched. She was looking down at me, her rifle held ready. I made a fist and raised it up by my shoulder, signaling for Gloria to wait and remain silent. The Prog troop spread out and were soon out of sight. The day came on, bright and clear, but I didn’t move from my hiding place. At one point I heard a trio of Prog hurry back toward their village, but I didn’t see them. And more importantly, they didn’t see us.
Finally, two hours after killing the Prog tracker, I got to my feet and looked around. There was still no sign of the tall, humpbacked warriors who were searching for us. Gloria used a vine to lower my pack, including the Sharps LRRG, to the ground. I would have liked to carry the sniper rifle so Gloria and I could both be armed, but it wasn’t possible. The rail gun was a long weapon, light enough, considering it’s length. But the more important factor was the power it delivered. The rail gun didn’t shoot a bullet from a rifled barrel, but rather slung a projectile down an open track. It fired with such force that it had to be supported on a stable platform and held with both hands on the hourglass-shaped fire controls.
I disassembled the rail gun and packed it away. When Gloria got to the ground, she gave me my assault rifle. I handed her the combat knife, wishing I could give her something more formidable, but she didn’t seem to mind.
“That was too close, Orry,” she whispered. “What now?”
“We get out of here as quickly and as quietly as possible. I don’t relish trying to out run those shaggy bastards.”
“Okay, which way do we go?”
We were standing with
our backs against the tree we had spent the night in. The Prog village was behind us.
“The Base Camp is thirty-five klicks that direction,” I pointed ahead of us. “And the road the engineers are building is twenty klicks that way,” I said, pointing to my right.
“Do you think we can make it back before dark?”
“No,” I said. “And I don’t think we should try.”
“You don’t think we should go back to the Base Camp?”
“Not directly,” I said. “The Prog hunting us are expecting that. Let’s do the opposite.”
“Which is?”
“I say we circle around their village and head for the volcano.”
“Aren’t there more aliens near the volcano?”
“Yes, but they aren’t looking for us. If we time things right, we can meet up with the engineering crew in a couple of days.”
“It sounds risky,” Gloria said.
“Everything carries risk,” I agreed. “But we have to do what gives us the best chance of success.”
“Alright, Orry. I trust you.”
“Good, lets go. If we see the Prog, move behind me. Without armor, you’ll be susceptible to their toxic darts.”
“Roger that,” Gloria said.
We left the fallen Prog tracker and moved from tree to tree, angling around the Prog village. It was midday before I felt certain we had the village between us and the warriors searching the jungle. Perhaps another tracker would find our trail and lead the aliens around the village after us, but I breathed a little easier — at least until my back began to tingle with the trepidation that always seemed to flare up when I was being hunted.
“What’s wrong?” Gloria asked. “Why are we stopping?”
“Have you seen anything?”
“Like what?”
“Movement... anything out of the ordinary?”
“No, why?”
“Just a hunch. Keep your eyes open.”
“You’re making me nervous, Orry.”
“Good. Stay that way. Being nervous will keep you alive.”
“That’s a sweet thought,” Gloria said sardonically.
Spartan Valor Page 13
