by Leslie Chase
“Fine, I’ll work it out myself,” I said, petting my companion’s forcefield feathers. “Tomorrow. First things first.”
My top priority needed to be survival, and that meant making an inventory. I checked off what I had, what I’d need. Athena could project ultrasound that would keep the wildlife away as long as her batteries lasted. The solar cells on the flier’s hull would recharge those.
The stream gave me fresh water, and I had food. Plenty of it, as long as I was happy eating nutrient paste. Of course, no one was happy eating the paste, but I had enough to feed me for weeks as long as I stayed with the flier.
But that was my limit. Eventually the paste would run out and I’d starve, if nothing dangerous made a meal of me first. No one from the Joint Colony would be able to reach me here, and even if they arranged for someone from another settlement to brave the prytheen raiders, they wouldn’t know where I’d come down unless I turned on the emergency beacon. If I did that, the sky pirates would find me long before rescue did.
Would the colony even send someone to look for me? Captain Joyce wouldn’t abandon us, but I had no way to ask for help. As far as Tamara knew, Ronan and I were fine. It would be a week or more before they started to wonder where we’d gotten to, and how long after that before they even considered trying to send help?
I had to accept the facts: I was alone, with no rescue coming for me. And that meant I’d need to fly home on my own unless Ronan found me again. My heart sank at the thought, looking at the unsteady mass of the flier. I wouldn’t even trust myself to take off from this position, let alone fly all the way back to the colony.
My cheeks were wet, and I dragged my sleeve across my face again. If I started crying now, I’d never stop.
“Fine, okay, let’s do this,” I said to Athena. “First I need a weapon.”
In theory, my wristband’s ultrasound would keep predators off me. That wasn’t reassuring enough. What if I met a deaf predator, or a prytheen pirate hunting me? Or if something happened to my wristband?
If I got caught out, I wanted some way to protect myself. That was easier said than done, though.
Wherever Ronan was, our laser rifle was there with him. Fortunately, several of Ronan’s blades lay scattered around the hold. I picked one up, turning it over in my hands. As long as my forearm, black metal with a wicked edge, it looked deadly even if I didn’t know how to use it.
The tales I’d heard about Crashland’s dangerous wildlife made me reluctant to trust it, though. It wasn’t long enough to keep large animals at bay, and it would be useless for hunting. It would do for a start. Trudging back outside, I looked at the trees. Some branches had fallen, caught by our engines’ blast as we came down, and one of them looked long and straight enough for my purposes.
It had been a long time since I’d tried any woodworking, but my time camping with my parents had prepared me a little. And the blade was ridiculously sharp, making it easy to shape the branch into a crude spear. The rope I used to bind the blade to the make-shift haft wasn’t as secure as I’d like, but at least now I’d be able to keep danger a good few feet away. That would have to do.
By the time I had the spear ready, the light dimmed and the shadows deepened. It looked like I wasn’t going anywhere today. At least I didn’t have to worry about power while I stayed with the flier: while the batteries didn’t have enough power to fly home, they could keep the other systems running just fine. I didn’t want to risk shining lights that might be seen from the air, but there was no reason not to set up an ultrasonic fence to keep wild animals away from the flier. The busted ramp made that my only way to keep Crashland’s wildlife away from the flier, and I hoped it would be enough.
That done, I dined on cold, bland paste. The awful taste reminded me of Ronan and his ration bars, and I nearly started crying all over again.
Curling up in the cargo hold, warm breeze carrying the sounds of the jungle into the ship, it wasn’t easy to get to sleep. Every time I closed my eyes, I was back in the cockpit watching the ground fall away from me. And every time I opened them again, I found myself looking at where Ronan’s nest of blankets had been.
I’d hated the idea of sleeping so close to him when I came aboard, but now I wished he was there. As awful as being stranded was, it wouldn’t be so bad with him for company.
With nothing left to distract me, holding back my tears became impossible. Hugging myself tight, I let the emotion out in wracking sobs that eventually gave way to the release of sleep.
I knew it was a dream straight away because I was flying. Flying without fear, feeling the air on my skin, feeling Ronan’s presence next to me. The warmth of his body, the intensity of his gaze, the rough low growl of his voice… even though I couldn’t make out the words he said, the tone sent a shiver of desire through me.
The landscape below flitted past too fast to see details. Were those rocks or trees? No idea. But when I turned my head to look at Ronan, he was clear as day. And naked. Very naked. My cheeks heated as I gazed at him, my mind filling in the details I hadn’t had a chance to see.
I was naked too, I realized, though somehow that didn’t embarrass me. In the dream, that simply felt right, like we belonged together. He drew me to him, powerful arms pulling me close, and I squirmed against the rigid wall of muscle of Ronan’s chest. It felt so good, but not as good as his touch between my legs…
And then I woke up. Of course. I groaned, frustrated, my body aching and my heart racing, but Athena wouldn’t stop screeching her alarm and daylight streamed through the open ramp. Going back to sleep wasn’t an option, and the dream faded fast. I glanced across at where Ronan should have slept and sighed. If he’d been here, things would be different.
He wasn’t, though, and he wouldn’t be. A wave of sadness crashed over me as the events of the day before came back into my mind.
I glared at Athena, throwing an empty food tub at her. It passed through the hologram harmlessly, and she fixed me with a sad stare.
“Way to go, Athena,” I said. “You just had to drag me out of that dream before the good bits, didn’t you?”
She gave a little shrug and hooted again. Blaming her was unfair — I’d set the alarm, after all. Athena just did as I told her. That didn’t stop me wanting to throw something else at her.
Grumbling as I got to my feet, I tried to pull myself out of my funk. Wishing I was still asleep wouldn’t help anything, and a breakfast of nutrient goop did nothing for my mood.
“Okay, Athena,” I said as I resealed the half-finished bowl back. “Time to get to work.”
The little ball of virtual feathers turned her head to the side, huge eyes staring. Was she judging my decisions? Rationally, I doubted it. Athena was a clever little program but not a true AI.
But I still felt judged. “Shut up. I can’t sit here and wait for rescue that won’t arrive for weeks, if ever. And Ronan…”
I trailed off, chewing my lip. Part of me thought he’d survived. I hadn’t seen him die. One of the grav-chutes was missing from the survival locker. He might be out there in the mountains, making his way back to me.
Or he might be a blue smear where he’d hit a rock. I didn’t know and I had no way to find out. Every time I tried to think about him, the tears welled up again, so I walled those thoughts off. I’d had plenty of practice at that. Leaving Earth behind had meant forgetting everyone there, friends and family who couldn’t make the journey to the stars with me and who I’d never see again.
Adding Ronan to that list shouldn’t have hurt. It was ridiculous — I’d known him for a day, and I hadn’t even liked him. Or at least, that’s what I told myself. He was a prytheen warrior, one of the bastards who’d trapped me on this planet. Nothing he’d done would make up for that.
But he’d risked his life, maybe given his life, to give me a chance to survive. He’d done it while I was mid-panic attack, not helping him at all. And he’d done it without hesitation. Confused feelings flooded through me and I p
ushed them into a little box in my mind, doing my best to look forwards rather than back.
I pulled Ronan’s survival kit from the locker, wondering if I’d even be able to use its supplies if I needed them. Better to have them than not, I told myself, and picked up my improvised spear. Stepping down from the flier and into the mud beside the stream, I turned to survey the alien buildings.
In the morning light they were even more imposing. The bright sunlight shone off them like gold, giving them an aura of energy and power that they’d lacked the evening before. I swallowed and walked forward.
A strange, heavy silence hung over the place, as though I stepped onto holy ground. Maybe I was — whoever had built this complex might well have meant it as a temple to whatever alien gods they worshipped.
I’d seen pictures of Mayan temples, and more than anything else that’s what this reminded me of. I wondered again where the builders were — had we missed an entire civilization somehow? But anyone capable of building this would have to have agriculture, cities, things that we’d have stumbled on since the crash.
Wouldn’t we?
That’s a question you can’t answer, find one you can, I told myself. I’m no archaeologist or xenoanthropologist: guessing what an alien culture would be like was well outside of my training.
The weather had worn and cracked the surface of the nearest pyramid, and as I walked closer I realized it had once been ornately decorated. Now the outer stone was nearly smooth, leaving me to wonder how long it had stood here. Hints of the patterns remained, and with Athena’s help I did my best to reconstruct them, looking for any useful clues.
Nothing. The carvings might once have been writing, but they’d been so badly worn down that I had no hope of making them out. A few bits looked tantalizingly like letters, though, and I had Athena keep a careful record of them while I searched for more. Somewhere sheltered from the elements, the markings might have survived intact.
And the hyperspace relay had to be inside one of these structures. Unfortunately, the nearest ones didn’t seem to have any openings. They were solid pyramids of stone, not buildings as I’d thought.
A stairway led to the top, though. Perhaps from up there I’d be able to see where I needed to go? With a sigh I started the climb, uncomfortable in the heavy, damp heat. The steps weren’t made for humans, too high to be comfortable, and I ended up leaning on the spear as I climbed. By the time I reached the top, I was drenched in sweat and panting, glad I’d worn shorts in this weather.
But the view made it worthwhile. I wished that Ronan was here to share it with me. The rows of pyramids flanking the central pathway all shone in the sunlight, and the little stream gleamed. I doubted that the light would last, though. Clouds gathered on the horizon, heavy and dark, threatening rain. Behind me, the flier looked like a discarded toy dropped by a child, battered and lying at an angle as the stream passed under it.
I dug out my binoculars and looked up at the mountains, wondering if I’d see any sign of the battle in the sky. For a moment of blind hope I thought I might even see Ronan, on his way to find me. But no. Nothing, no sign of crashed fliers or of a prytheen. I comforted myself with the thought that he would head down into the jungle as fast as he could.
He might even be there now, making his way towards me through the trees. I turned to look, knowing that there wasn’t much chance of seeing him. The jungle beyond seemed to stretch on forever, an unbroken sea of strangely colored trees. Anything could be hiding out there. Maybe there really was an alien civilization capable of building these towers?
Hundreds of colony pods had scattered across Crashland when we arrived, some big and some small. We’d ended up all over the planet — but far apart, arranged at random. Perhaps we’d have missed a stone-age civilization, even one that built structures like this.
I remembered what Captain Joyce had told me about the colonies near here going dark. Maybe the locals were the cause, rather than prytheen pirates? That didn’t make me feel any better about climbing across their monuments.
But whoever they were, they wouldn’t be able to build a hyperspace relay. That level of tech would be impossible to hide, and that was what I was here to find. I turned back to my task, trying to focus.
The top of the pyramid itself was bare stone with something etched into it, a single large symbol carved deep enough that the rains hadn’t yet eroded it completely. It looked strangely familiar, almost like an Eskel word-glyph but not quite.
It can’t be, I told myself as I walked around it, trying to figure it out. The fine details were long gone, but what remained might be the Eskel glyph for ‘welcome far travelers’ if I squinted at it. That was ridiculous, though. Wasn’t it?
I tried to make sense of that mystery. The Eskel had vanished long ago but some theories said they came from near this region. Was it possible that they shared some elements of a language with the Tavesh Empire that claimed Crashland? I hoped so, that might mean that I’d be able to speak to whoever set up the relay.
If I found it. The other small pyramids looked identical, and from up here I still couldn’t see any way inside. I could see that each of them was more worn by the weather than the last, though. The one I’d climbed had eroded the least, but those closer to the mountainside had been ground down by the passage of time.
How old must those ones be? Through my binoculars they looked more like piles of rubble than the pyramids they’d once been. There were six in total, each worse off than the last.
The final structure, the one built against the mountain itself, still stood tall and strong. It must have been better constructed than the smaller pyramids, or of stronger stone, or both. A step pyramid, each level stood ten feet tall, and a narrow staircase climbed all the way to the narrow top.
If anywhere held the answer to the mystery, it would be there. And there, at its base, I saw an opening. A doorway.
My heart thumped. Whatever I found in there, it would be amazing. Rain started to fall as I scrambled down the too-tall steps, the clouds blowing in surprisingly quickly overhead. Big, fat raindrops struck me, and I hoped this would clear the mugginess from the air.
The ground grew softer under me and the rain soaked my clothes as I trudged towards the alien temple. Rubbing my aching legs I wished I’d stayed in better shape — climbing that pyramid had taken too much out of me and as the rain grew heavier, every step squelched in mud. No wonder the stonework had eroded so badly if rainstorms like this were common.
At least my new boots are waterproof, I thought, looking for a silver lining. The rest of me would get soaked but my feet would stay dry.
The stream swelled, filling the gully between the stone structures, and the heavy rain pounded down on the water. The sound echoed from the stone temples, drowning out the noise of the forest, and I hung my head as I plodded forward.
I’ll be dry once I get inside, I promised myself, pausing for a moment to gather my strength. That was when I heard something.
A footstep in the mud behind me. Or had I imagined that? Hard to tell over the sound of the rain and the rising wind howling through the mountains. But no, there it was again. Something was stalking me. Or someone.
Ronan? I refused to let myself hope. He might be dead, or injured, or lost somewhere in the mountains. It couldn’t be him.
I the noise came again. A faint step, but heavy despite that. My mind conjured an image of him, rugged face smiling, blue skin gleaming and slick with rain, moving with the careless grace I’d admired from the moment we met.
It isn’t him. I kept my eyes on the temple ahead of me, fingers tightening around the haft of the spear. My heart pounded in my chest and I took a deep breath as I walked on, trying not to give myself false hope.
I refused to look back in case that dispelled the illusion, in case that made him vanish like morning dew. As long as I didn’t check I could believe it was him. If I did, and he wasn’t there, my heart would break again.
Ronan was behind me. He had
to be. My heart was certain of it. Every moment I expected to hear his voice. Or for him to pounce across the distance between us, grab me without a word, pull me to him. An asshole move.
I’d forgive him, though. As long as he was alive.
The sound came again, closer. And this time I was sure that was the sound of a booted foot hitting the leaf-covered trail behind me. With a deep breath, I pulled myself together and turned to face—
Oh no.
My blood froze in my veins. I’d built the moment up in my mind. It would be Ronan, it had to be Ronan, it was Ronan. Only it wasn’t. Behind me, a tenger stalked closer. Something like a gray-furred tiger with tentacles for a face, the huge predator had nearly reached pouncing range before I noticed it.
Some instinct brought my spear down as the monster leaped forward. My brain hadn’t gotten past the shock of it not being Ronan yet, but something I’d inherited from my cavewoman ancestors took over and the spear-point struck the creature in the side.
It let out an eerie howl, high-pitched and almost painful to hear over the noise of the storm. The tentacles surrounding its mouth — its horrible, gaping, tooth-filled mouth — lashed out against the unexpected pain, knocking me flying against a tree.
The impact knocked my brain back into functioning, and thank whatever god protects idiots who wander an alien world alone that I’d kept hold of the spear. I jabbed in the tenger’s direction, panting for breath and panicking quietly as I tried to protect myself.
How had it gotten so close? Athena’s ultrasound should keep predators at bay. The howling wind and pounding rain gave me my answer — the storm drowned out most noises, and there was no reason the ultrasound should fare any better.
The tenger backed off warily, black blood trickling from its wound. Its eyes flashed and the tentacles flexed through the falling rain. The injury wouldn’t be enough to stop it, but maybe, just maybe, it would give up on this unexpectedly dangerous meal?
