Kali's Fire

by Craig Allen

  Kali’s Fire

  by Craig Allen

  Copyright © 2017 Craig Allen

  Illustration © Tom Edwards

  TomEdwardsDesign.com

  Chapter One

  The giant jellyfish floated over the red-leafed dish trees a good hundred meters away from where Cody stood. The tendrils of the balloon-like animals hung low but not low enough to reach the trees. So far, they had never attacked, which was unusual for the creatures of that planet. Even so, Cody hoped they kept their distance.

  The trees took a few timid steps toward the jellyfish, reaching for them with the dish-shaped leaves that crowned their massive trunks. Just before the trees’ leaves made contact with the tendrils, the jellyfish rose out of reach. The dish trees froze in place as if disappointed.

  All around the trees, red reeds withdrew into the ground, waiting for the trees to pass before emerging again to flutter in the breeze. Sometimes they fluttered with the wind and other times against it. That day, Cody noticed a combination of the two.

  So far, those three species had been the only ones to appear, which was unusual in Cody’s experience. Whenever a hopper hit planetside, creatures of multiple species would gather around the humans, though they kept a respectable distance.

  The toads always watched them, of course, but Cody hadn’t seen them so far. With luck, those monsters would stay away.

  After Cody heard footsteps through his envirosuit’s external mics, someone whistled over the comm channel. “Jesus. Never thought I’d see walking trees. Or flying jellyfish.”

  The envirosuits muffled most sound, but the external mics funneled sound into the speakers embedded in Cody’s inner ear in such a way that he could hear the private next to him as if he weren’t wearing a thick transparent polymer helmet.

  The private wore partial body armor, known as “half-can” to marines. “Full-can” power armor was far thicker than the simple envirosuit Cody wore.

  The private cradled his coil rifle in his arms. “How do those jellyfish float anyway, sir?”

  “Hydrogen, likely.” Cody couldn’t remember the private’s name. “Or maybe heated air. We’ve never examined them thoroughly enough to be sure how they do that, though.”

  “Why not, sir?”

  Why the private kept calling him “sir,” Cody had no idea. He wasn’t in the military. “We’ve only been here a couple of months. And we’ve had other things to worry about.”

  Cody continued to watch the dish trees lumber away from them as the reeds approached within thirty meters. He could’ve sworn they stopped when he looked directly at them.

  Thirty meters was pretty close for the reeds or anything on the planet. The gravity-based engines of the hopper were loud enough to Cody’s human ears, but to the denizens of the planet, who sensed magnetic waves the way humans felt vibrations, the gravity engines of an incoming hopper must’ve felt like a monster descending from the sky to the ground to mete out punishment.

  The Washington usually landed far away from populated areas, but considering its sensors had picked up the readings in that specific area, they had no choice. All the species on the planet understood the treaty enforced upon Kali’s inhabitants by humans two months before. Use of human technology was forbidden. The penalty for disobedience was extreme retaliation, for good reason. Everything alive on that planet was too damn smart to be allowed advanced technology.

  Behind Cody, the squad of marines had spread out to cover the perimeter around the hopper while civilian scientists wandered the area with all manner of scanning equipment. Above in the yellow sky, the distant globular cluster hovered just behind a crescent moon. Even during the day, Cody could still make out individual stars, which wasn’t surprising, given the cluster was only about two light-years away.

  One of the jellyfish rose higher into the air and curled its tendrils underneath itself. The shape of the creature billowed as prevailing winds in the higher altitudes caught the creature and carried it higher into the sky.

  The private whistled again. “Kali’s a strange place, sir.”

  Everyone had started calling the planet after the ship that had crashed there ten years before. That ship, the UEAF Kali, had altered the lives of every creature on the planet, and not in a good way. At least, not in a way that was good for the human race.

  “Where are the fliers?” Sonja checked the time, which reflected in her helmet. “Should’ve been here half an hour ago.”

  As she approached, the private shifted his posture. Cody tried not to smile. Since Sonja was several pay grades over the private, her very presence terrified him—that and maybe her size. She was a full head taller than the private and had some serious muscles. Cody had always wanted to ask how much of that muscle was genetic engineering and how much was boot camp on a high-gravity world. In the end, he decided he didn’t care.

  “Gunnery Sergeant Monroe,” the private said.

  Sonja snorted, adjusting a strap on her half-can armor. She’d let her dark hair grow long, though it was still regulation. Not that Cody cared, being a civilian contractor.

  “You can just call me Gunny, you know.”

  “Oh, right.” The private gave an apologetic smile. “Gunny.”

  “Not sure where the fliers are.” Cody let worry punctuate his tone. “They can travel fast enough to cross continents in days, and we’re not that far from their home. Something bad must’ve happened.”

  “You mean the buzzards, sir?” The private glanced upward, as if he would see them flying in as he spoke their name. “They’re the friendly ones, right? And you’re their ambassador.”

  “Right.” Cody hated when marines referred to them as buzzards.

  They did have a resemblance to the same creatures on Earth, but to Cody they were more like prehistoric birds but without the long beaks. Of course, like buzzards, the fliers were carrion eaters. Maybe buzzard was accurate.

  “They’re smart, though, right?”

  “Every living thing here is smart, Private.” First Sergeant Lance Bodin strode toward them like an admiral. “You should know that by now.”

  The private shrank under Bodin’s gaze even though he wasn’t as tall as Sonja. From the stern expression, the lines in his face, and the closely cropped black hair, though, he was the very model of the modern marine sergeant.

  “Even the trees, Sergeant?” The private pointed at the red reeds. “And the grass?”

  The reeds had gotten within twenty meters without Cody noticing—again, odd but not alarming. The reeds had never done any harm to humans. He wished he could make some kind of contact with the reeds. They were intelligent, or so it was assumed, since every other living thing they’d found was intelligent. He was an interpreter, not an ambassador, but he found himself in that position as the fliers had developed an affinity for him over other humans. That was why he was on the planet with the team. Unfortunately, the other creatures on that world were either indifferent or hostile. He was starting to like the idea of being an ambassador.

  Out of the thousands of catalogued sentient species on the planet, the reeds were the most enigmatic, not that the other inhabitants were completely understood. Humans still had so much to learn about the planet, such as how every single species had become self-aware. Other than the reeds and a handful of other creatures, though, the world’s denizens viewed humans as merely another source of food. That made studying them a touch tricky.

  Cody pushed the thought away as he answered Private Hugo’s question, “The trees act with intelligence—that’s for certain. As do the reeds. In the case of the reeds, they may have a collective intelligence, much like the smaller insects here. Like the spider-beetles.”

  “Spider-beetles?” The private reached up to scratch his head and bumped his hand o
n his helmet. “Oh, those little metal bugs. You guys met them when you crashed here, right?” He held up his hands as if framing a picture. “They’d spell out words right on the ground. But how’d they learn English?”

  “From the logs on the battle cruiser Kali.” Sonja raised an eyebrow. “The one that crashed here ten years ago,” she said. “It’s all in your briefing, Private Hugo.”

  “You can read, can’t you, Private?” Bodin asked.

  Private Hugo cleared his throat. “Oh, sure. They cleared me to read when I got out of boot. It’s just there’s a lot in that briefing to read.”

  Cody couldn’t understand why the private hadn’t read the briefing. Part of his job was to be informed about possible dangers in his environment. On top of that, Cody couldn’t understand why the private wasn’t fascinated by a world where every living thing was intelligent. Cody certainly was. Then again, he used to be a professor back in the day. New and interesting things were his bread and butter.

  Bodin grumbled at the private. “You should read it anyway. It might save your ass.”

  “Tell you what.” Sonja adjusted the G-1 Gauss rifle slung over her shoulder as she gestured at the civilians near the hopper. “Hang back by the eggheads.” She fluttered her fingers in the air, activating her suit’s holocontrols, which projected out in front of her for only her eyes. “I just sent you the whole file on planet Kali. Have a read. Everything will make more sense.”

  “And read the whole thing this time,” Bodin said.

  The private lowered his head sheepishly. “Yes, Sergeant. And thanks, Gunny.”

  Hugo gave Cody a nod then returned toward the civilians, who had spread out to sweep the area with handheld gravimetric scanners.

  “The scientists find any technology?” Cody asked.

  “Nope.” Sonja sighed. “To hear the sensor operator on the Washington talk, this whole area lit up like a goddamn Christmas tree on gravimetrics. Now, nothing.”

  “Maybe the ensign’s full of shit,” Bodin said. “Far be it from me to say such a thing.”

  Cody never understood why Bodin hated officers. It must’ve been an enlisted thing. Bodin barked a lot but bit less. That didn’t mean Bodin’s bite wasn’t a thing to behold.

  “No way,” Sonja said. “Those deck-swabbing navy boys throw a fit when they see gravimetric readings. They got that way from the war with the Spicans. If they say there’s technology down here, then it’s here. Or was, anyway.”

  Cody pointed at a flat-topped mountain some five klicks away. “Think those readings were coming from something we left behind?”

  “When we were evacuated after we crashed?” Bodin shrugged. “Shit, it’s possible. All I cared about was getting the hell outta there and…” He bowed his head. “Damn. Poor Colonel Deveau.”

  Cody still had nightmares about how Colonel Deveau died.

  “We cleaned up that whole area just after we left. Shouldn’t be anything there. And if there was, why’d nothing show up for a couple of months?” Sonja clenched her fist. “Shit. This whole place worries me. Two months and not a fucking peep, and then we get these weird gravimetric readings showing something big. And now they’re gone.”

  Her language used to bother Cody, but he’d grown used to it. He’d grown use to a lot of things about her. He didn’t normally like big, muscular women, a genetic enhancement a lot of women in the military had undergone, but she’d grown on him. She tended to be gruff with privates and corporals, which Cody assumed was her job, but under that gruff exterior was a tender side that had surprised him when he first saw it.

  Thinking of her tender side, he wanted to get into her envirosuit, as well as the clothes underneath, but her furrowed brow made him push those thoughts aside. She’d been in the marines since the Spican War ten years before. She was a pro when it came to spotting traps. When she was worried, so was Cody.

  She’d been pensive for the past few days. He wondered if he’d said something wrong, but she’d always been quite blunt with him before. If she was hiding something from him, it must’ve been bad.

  Cody activated the magnifier on his HUD and zoomed in on the plateau as he always did when they were close to it. It was a morbid habit, really, given he, Sonja, and Bodin had almost died there two months before.

  The dark-red rocks took up most of his vision, along with the yellow sky in the background. No reeds covered that plateau. They never did, despite the fact the red reeds could be found across the plains, in forests of walking trees and shrubs, under the ocean, and even on mountaintops higher in elevation than the plateau. Whatever was special about that place was beyond Cody’s understanding.

  A shadow shifted on the plateau, and his suit’s HUD highlighted it. A toad had emerged near the edge, followed by another, then a dozen more. There they are. The thing resembled a toad due to its strong back legs and shorter front ones. Past that, the similarities ceased.

  The toad had its large fifth arm on its underside, which meant it wasn’t ready for battle, but that could change. In a second, the thing could flip itself over so its arm was on top. It would only do that if it was about to throw something. Their double-jointed limbs would flip around as well, allowing them full locomotion. Fortunately, their slings were well out of range.

  “Guys,” Cody said. “Are you seeing this?”

  Sonja gazed up at the plateau, touching her clear polymer helmet. “Wondered where those bastards have been hiding.”

  “Think any of them still have coilguns?” Cody asked.

  “Christ, I hope not.” Sonja put her hands on her hips. “We blew the hell out of that old battle cruiser, the Kali. Did the same to that factory on board, but…”

  When she didn’t finish, Cody did. “You think they have another factory somewhere, more technology? Maybe even another cruiser?”

  Bodin chuckled. “Damn right they do, Eggman.”

  Bodin always called Cody that, which as Cody understood, was eminently better than being called an egghead or clueless. Bodin reserved that description for the scientists and other civilians who’d arrived the week before.

  Bodin gazed up at the plateau as well. “The Washington had to fight a whole goddamned fleet of ships that looked just like Kali a couple of months ago. They couldn’t have made that many copies of a battle cruiser with just one factory.”

  “They just went underground,” Sonja said.

  Sonja reached for Cody’s hand then withdrew it when a corporal looked their way. Public displays of affection were bad enough, and Cody was pretty sure higher-ranking officers weren’t thrilled about their relationship. The only reason no one said anything was because it didn’t affect their performance. Even Admiral Rodriguez turned a blind eye toward it.

  “Shit. We got company.” Bodin hefted his rifle, its green light indicating the safety was still on. “About half a klick out.”

  Cody magnified his HUD out where Bodin pointed. The dish trees had stopped their retreat and faced their giant leaves toward the sun. A whole forest sat out there, waiting.

  Then, out from underneath their large dish leaves emerged the huge, shaggy behemoths. They shuffled their large bodies out into the open. A fifth arm extended from the back of each behemoth, and the claw on the other end of the arm swept across the ground. One of the elephantine creatures picked up a plant with its fifth arm and placed the struggling creature inside its large maw. Reddish fur—actually a symbiote of some kind found on many creatures on Kali, even the toads—covered their bodies. The Washington’s scientists had discovered the fur was photosynthetic. Chlorophyll on Kali, or what passed for chlorophyll, was red instead of green.

  Riders sat on the behemoths’ backs. The upper half of the riders looked remarkably like praying mantises, especially their heads, except they had five eyes planted equidistant around each neckless head. The good news was the two species, which lived in a symbiotic relationship that was not fully understood, were generally harmless to humans.

  On the ground, large, bulbou
s creatures emerged, carrying the sling-spears common among Kali species. The amoebic blobs grew three legs to move forward then retracted them as they balanced themselves on the ground on a wide haunch, waiting. They, too, worked with the toads, though like the behemoths, not by choice.

  “Bet those bats are in the trees,” Bodin said.

  The creatures that normally nested in the dish trees did resemble bats, though much larger and far more aggressive. They had killed Corporal Jim Carson and Private Ann Salyard after they, along with Sonja and Cody, escaped from the Spinoza when it crashed over two months before. Cody still remembered the thing carrying Ann off into the sky and her fuse grenade detonating to kill herself and the creature.

  “Should I send up skeeters?” Bodin asked. “Have ’em look around?”

  “Good idea,” Sonja said. “You too, Cody.”

  Cody activated his suit’s skeeters with a wave of his hand across the holocontrols projected in front of him, controls only he could see. The miniature bots, about the size of Earth’s mosquitoes, exited through tiny ports near his air recycler and flew via miniature fan jets. They could fly indefinitely, assuming light was available to charge their solar batteries, and Kali had plenty of that.

  An indicator lit up on Cody’s suit HUD, indicating that Sonja had slaved Cody’s skeeters to hers. She’d probably done the same thing to Bodin’s. With luck, they’d learn more about what was going on between the leaves of those trees.

  The view from the skeeters appeared on Cody’s helmet as the tiny bots rocketed toward the creatures gathering in the distance. The behemoths and their riders became more distinct, as did the bulbous blob-like creatures. Between the limbs of the dish trees, dark shapes hung down about two meters.

  “Shit,” Bodin said. “Bats are always in those trees.”

  “Contact!” Private Hugo was by the hopper, waving his finger southward. “We’ve got locals gathering.”

  Sonja waved her hand across her suit’s controls, and the skeeters altered course, flying back toward the hopper then spreading out across the perimeter. Multiple images appeared on Cody’s HUD, each showing a view in four directions. He wanted to curse.