On numerous occasions Cameron ventured into the dark recesses of the forest. Each visit he was welcomed back by the friendly clan of hairy primates. He became familiar with how they lived, what they ate. Vegetarians, mainly, they did devour certain kinds of insects too. The Dalima Climbers slept during the daylight hours for the most part. Descending from the trees during the night, they often visited the three streams to drink and bathe. Lalik was becoming a good friend to Cameron. Even the Loth seemed to like her. More than once he found her sleeping at his side, lying outside his sleeping bag. His affection for her was growing, but he didn’t think of her in a sexual way. Though she could have different ideas in that regard.
Three days before, while the Loth was off somewhere, they attacked. At dusk, Cameron returned to the campsite and chided himself for letting the campfire burn out. He then heard familiar squealing sounds, along with the padding of innumerable tiny feet. Piquet sprints. A far larger throng than those that attacked him before, when he was in his truck up on the mountain. Hundreds of them. By the time Cameron pulled his weapon, they were nearly upon him. He fired continuously, killing scores of the vicious little varmints. When his plasma gun eventually petered out of energy, he climbed onto the truck’s roof and screamed for the Loth to come help. But it wasn’t the Loth that saved the day; it was the Dalima Climbers. Some arrived with tree branches and used them as clubs; others picked up rocks and threw them with astounding force and accuracy. Three primates were taken down—overwhelmed by the sheer number of piquet sprints; they succumbed later from numerous bites and loss of blood. When the Loth did arrive, it did so with a ferocity Cameron didn’t know it possessed. With its ginormous jaws scooping-up and snapping and chewing, it wasn’t long before the last few surviving rodents scampered fast into the trees.
After that encounter, Cameron decided it would be best to switch his campsite again to the top of the ridge road, near the Primion. He was beginning to hear strange animal sounds at night, perhaps those of another Gleery Beast, or two, that had moved into the valley. Or maybe they were coming from some other killer beast. Not going to chance it, he drove the pickup truck back up the ridge road and parked behind the spaceship.
Cameron accessed the truck’s battery to charge both his laptop and his iPhone, which he mostly used to listen to music. Sometimes he’d leave the truck’s headlights on at night, for extra bright illumination to see by when working on any number of pet projects. He needed to run the engine at least twenty minutes a day, which meant he was beginning to burn through the limited supply of gasoline. Rationing was all he could do; when the fuel was depleted, it would be gone. No longer did he drive up and down the mountainside, unless it was absolutely necessary. Instead, he hopped on his fs01BMC mountain bike. Travelled the few miles down again to the valley floor. Once there, he might visit with the Dalima Climbers. Always filling-up containers with water from the streams, he’d shoot some fish, and, if he had the energy—collect more firewood. Recently, he’d begun to use the emptied-out trinious bundle—its broad strap slung over his shoulder—to carry everything. Later, he’d again begin the arduous bike journey up the steep incline back to the top.
Today, Cameron leaned back in his folding beach chair, gazing out toward the broad valley below. He figured it was about 10:30 a.m. He was playing audio tracks of violin music—specifically those that Heather recorded then posted up on YouTube—he’d downloaded onto his iPhone before all the craziness occurred. He hummed along with the melody and wondered, How many times have I listened to these same tracks? A hundred? Two hundred? Continuing to hum, he was startled to hear the Loth, honking out the same melody from somewhere below, out of view.
Cameron stood and stretched, staring at the collection of dark-gray items lying nearby. Each day, around this time, he went through the same routine. He would check to see if signals from two of the Priopax items were still being blocked. First, the large rectangular brick-shaped item, which had previously transformed into a communications console, and the next, shaped more like an oversized dinner plate, which offered virtual, Priopax sage-like intelligence. More than ever, Cameron wished he could bring back the old cowboy, Art. Although talking to the Loth was fine, theirs was far from a stimulating conversation. The ship blocked out any signals—the XI droid still intent on making his life one of hardship.
Cameron turned his gaze to the spacecraft, mentally willing the closest airlock hatchway to suddenly open. His weapon was always within easy reach. Just as he could pick off a skittering fish from twenty yards away, he could draw and put a plasma bolt right into the middle of the XI droid, should it suddenly appear. His hatred for that hovering menace had only increased over the proceeding weeks.
Cameron readjusted the umbrella as the bright sun-like star rose higher in the sky. Then, climbing up along the side of the ship, he stood up on the high-domed aft section. From there, he had a birds-eye view of the rest of the ship. “Wait a minute … maybe I’ve been going about this all wrong …”
Chapter 44
Almost a third of the forward starboard section of the Primion was buried deep under hundreds of tons of dirt and rock due to crash-landing over a month earlier. Also the reason the ship was incapable of taking off. Cameron wondered why the XI droid hadn’t already begun the lengthy operation of digging out the ship. XI’s earlier intention was to get the excavation process started immediately, right after the crash—one that could easily take them a year, or more, to finish. XI certainly had the ability to construct mechanical workers—to replicate bots. The procession of killer robots he’d sent down to retrieve the Loth had proven that. So what was it waiting for?
The forty-five-foot-tall Loth came into Cameron’s view around the rear of the ship. The XI droid undoubtedly feared the Loth. He supposed that would be reason enough not to proceed—to stay hidden.
Cameron knew what the creature wanted. It was nearing the time they made their usual trek down the mountainside together—he on his bike and the Loth on foot, so to speak.
The Loth honked out the words, “We hunt.”
Cameron stared back at the creature before turning toward the forward section of the ship—having thought of something.
“Loth … we can go hunting later. Can you come up here?” Though he suspected the creature could climb up, he wasn’t one hundred percent positive. It was a near vertical climb
Again, the Loth said, “We hunt.”
“We hunt later … I need your help first. Hunt later. Come on up here. Hurry it up!”
Reluctantly, the big Minal Loth used its tentacle limbs to find protruding parts of the ship to gain purchase on. With minimal effort it soon was perched atop the Primion’s top hull. Cameron hurried forward and heard the Loth’s heavy limbs thumping along behind him. Once he reached the mountain of dirt partially covering the ship, Cameron began—one by one—to lift up the heavy rocks and clumps of dirt and deposit them portside. He then threw them over the cliff. Doing the work by himself would take years—perhaps a lifetime. He kept at it, ignoring the Loth now watching him intently. Eventually, the Loth moved closer and placed the tip of one tentacle on Cameron’s shoulder. Turning around, Cameron glanced upward, into its quizzical eyes, and said, “Everyday we do this for two hours. Then we go hunt. You want to help me?”
Cameron didn’t wait for an answer. He hefted a large rock and, staggering under its weight, managed to toss it off the opposite side of the ship. It took another ten minutes before the Loth finally joined in. Not so much lifting each rock, or clump of dirt, the way Cameron did, but by using all six tentacles to gather and swipe large areas from the dirt mound. Then, using a plowing motion, it flung an avalanche of dirt over the opposite side that was both efficient and amazingly effective. At one point, Cameron fashioned a makeshift shovel, using a long section of sheet metal—a leftover remnant from the burnt-out F150.
Two hours later, as promised, Cameron put down his faux shovel and patted the Loth’s leg. “That’s it for today. Time to go hunt.
”
The Loth gladly hurried toward the stern of the ship, disappearing the same route it climbed up. Cameron stayed, studying the progress they’d made. He was more than a little impressed—ten tons of dirt gone. Or was it twenty? A once hopeless situation seemed not quite as hopeless now.
The bike ride down the mountain road was difficult. Cameron’s hands were terribly blistered, and his back was killing him. No sooner reaching the three streams he pulled his shirt, shoes, socks, and pants off. Crossing to the deepest stream, he dove in headfirst. He stayed submerged for over a minute, letting the currents of cool water soothe his aching muscles, rid his skin of dust and grime. When he came up for air, he watched as the Loth made its way up the valley, where far more game was prevalent.
The air, of late, had cooled some. Cameron wondered if he was experiencing the first signs of a changing season. Sitting in the water, submerged up to his neck, he slowly turned and took in the breathtaking landscape around him. Something that hadn’t really occurred to him before, prior to right then, was the realization that a large part of him loved it here. Loved the raw, untouched, often dangerous wild nature of the place. As much as he despised the XI droid, at some level he also owed it a measure of gratitude. He wouldn’t want to have missed any part of this: the Minal Loth’s friendship—the comradery the two now shared—and the relationship he’d forged with the Dalima Climbers. And, of course, the special friendship he had with Lalik. But it was even more than that. It was his relationship with a world somehow similar to Earth, yet so different too. A world for the most part untouched by man. He leaned over and sipped in the crystal clear water. Was there a stream anywhere back home where he could drink water like this? Maybe. But it wouldn’t be too long before that would not be an option.
Cameron, hearing noises behind him, spun quickly around. The friendly Dalima Climbers were making their way toward the same stream he was in. Usually, they didn’t bathe much before dusk. They were here now for him. He knew they enjoyed his company, just as much as he enjoyed theirs. Neither judged the other. He’d witnessed every aspect of their daily lives—the way they ate, slept, and even argued over who would occupy a certain branch. He’d also witnessed how tenderly they copulated. They seemed to have the same mate for life.
Cameron knew most of their names. Thilith was the motherly matriarch of the clan, and Brath was the dominant male. Somehow, he only needed to utter softly spoken words to convey his authority. Then there were Sphial and Shrii, sisters, ever watchful over Lalik.
One by one, they now joined him, allowing their lithe, hairy bodies to slide beneath the surface of the stream. He heard their wonderful singsong voices and laughter as two older females playfully splashed one another. He was surprised to feel two furry arms entwine about his neck from behind as Lalik pulled her body close to him. For the first time, he felt her warm body pressing against his bare skin. She nuzzled the back of his neck and made soft cooing sounds. The others in the group watched with amused fascination. He gave Lalik a few affectionate pats beneath the water but avoided turning around to face her. Perhaps if he were going to stay here—had decided to make Sang-Morang his home—then maybe.
Cameron gazed up at the sky, noticing the faint outline of nearby sister planets. But he would always miss the Earth’s moon. Always miss his own planet’s star called the Sun. And he would always miss Heather.
Chapter 45
The next day Cameron had the Loth back at work, plowing dirt and rock rubble off the top of the Primion. Before joining the creature, Cameron wrapped his palms with torn cloth strips; he wanted to avoid new blistering. The work was hard and dirty. Since the day was exceptionally warm, they both took several breaks—drinking water and catching their breaths. Cameron enjoyed working hard—always had. He wondered if the Loth was taking cues from him. Was he sort of like a father figure to the ginormous creature? The Loth never complained or whined. Sure, there was reluctance getting started, doing certain things sometimes, but once underway, the Loth powered through. Cameron inwardly acknowledged his own feelings—that he took a small measure of pride in who or what the beast had turned in to.
He watched the Loth drink from a deep hole in the dirt, not far from the burnt-out original truck. They had dug the hole together. Cameron then showed the Loth how to coat the deep interior of the hole by using its previously secreted, still pliable mucus blobs. There was no shortage of them around. The stuff had amazing sealant characteristics, had become useful in several instances. The dried mucus-lined hole was only recently filled with fresh stream water. After sealing the bed of the second pickup truck, in much the same way as they’d sealed the hole, they took a few trips up and down the mountain. Filling up the sealed truck bed with stream water, they later deposited it into the hole. He used up more gas than he wanted, but the Loth had to be kept hydrated—especially now, with all the added exertion.
“Let’s give it another hour. Then you can go hunt. How’s that sound?”
The Loth bellowed out a chorus of excited honks, then hurried up the stern of the spacecraft, disappearing over the top. A few moments later, Cameron heard the sound of heavy dirt mounds being plowed from one side of the fuselage to the other.
About to head up there himself, he froze in place. Not two paces before him was Alice, or, more accurately, the 3D holographic representation of Alice—a life-sized pop-up display.
Over a month had passed since Cameron had contact with the ship. His heart sank. “Alice … what’s happened to you?” he asked.
Alice’s head lowered somewhat; perhaps she’d forgotten about her ruined appearance. Cameron took in the abomination before him. Virtually all the skin was now gone. Several tattered, hanging remnants of simulated flesh dangled from her face, arms, and legs. Dark scorch marks were prevalent throughout her metallic under-frame. She almost appeared to be painted black, and an eye was missing.
“I have a message from Captain XI.”
Cameron hesitated. “Oh … he’s a captain now?”
“Yes.”
“I’m sorry, Alice. Maybe it’s time you, um … go back to not having a body … for a while. Be TAM again, like you were before.”
Alice’s one eye locked onto his. “You don’t think I would have done that already if I could?”
“You’re being held captive within …”
She cut him off, “Cameron, I am here to convey a message. That is all. I do not need your sympathy.”
Cameron nodded. He hadn’t thought it possible to despise the droid more than he already did. But he was wrong. He saw movement behind Alice, who was standing on the bridge. Figures in uniform. Glimpsing a passing-by female, he noticed she had a clear membrane Thidion ear. “Crewmembers …” he said.
Alice nodded. “It is the captain’s doing. XI took your words to heart. A ship like this one needs a crew. Each crewmember, prior to their demise, was … fully recreated.”
“Cyborgs,” Cameron said.
“Yes. The Primion now has a full crew complement. With the exception of only one.”
Cameron thought about that. “The previous captain.”
Alice didn’t respond to that, instead replying, “The captain is aware of your work to unearth the vessel. Pleased with your progress. You will complete the task within five days.”
“That’s not possible. And since when do I take orders from that piece of shit, anyway?”
“You want to go home. You want to return to Earth. XI can make that happen. You will work together to make that happen.”
“In exchange for what?” Cameron asked, already knowing the answer.
Alice said, “Once the Primion is no longer buried, you will lead the Minal Loth into a Retention cell. We then will make haste to Winforge. After that, XI will deliver you back to Earth.”
Cameron almost laughed. “And I’m supposed to believe that the crazy, flying toaster of a droid will make good on any promise it makes?”
“You have an opportunity to go home, Cameron.”
“The creature will not be mistreated. Once on Winforge, the Loth will again be amongst others of its own kind. You will be doing the beast a favor.”
“Yeah, just like the benevolent treatment XI has shown you?” he asked, his voice dripping with cynicism. “Tell the tin can I can’t be bought.”
Alice went quiet for a long moment. She said, “Please … Cameron.”
He shook his head.
A second pop-up display suddenly appeared. At first, Cameron didn’t know for sure what he was looking at. Then he did. It was one of the smaller, glass-enclosed retention cells. Within it were three beings, huddled close together. He could hear them whimpering. Cameron recognized the two sisters, Sphial and Shrii, and the smallest of the Dalima Climbers, pretty Lalik. He saw dark red splotches, welts, protruding up through their fine hair. They were beyond scared—visibly terrified.
Cameron stared at the three defenseless souls in horror. “Let them go, Alice. They’re not a part of this. They are peaceful and kind and …”
“There is nothing I can do. I am as much a prisoner here as they are,” she said, suddenly looking around. She’d said more than she should have. Cameron had little doubt she would be punished further.
“They will be released prior to lift off, if you do as requested. It is up to you.”
Cameron felt sick. Something touched his shoulder, and he swung around, both fists clenched. It was Brath, the clan’s soft-spoken, dominant male. His face expressed a combination of fear and sadness. Standing a short distance behind him, on the ridge road, was the entirety of his clan. They had come for the sisters and for Lalik. They didn’t understand what had happened.
Ship Wrecked Page 20
