by Vicky L Holt
For a second, my body felt weightless, then I plopped into the pit.
With a prayer I was nowhere near its ugly hosts, I sank all the way down, satisfied I would be invisible. I had plenty of oxygen in my suit. Pressure gauges, temperature controls. Heck, I could watch a movie down here.
It was nothing but blackness. I could activate the light in my helmet, but it would just show me my terrified reflection. I wasn’t in peak form. Crash landings did that to a person. Oh, and also almost dying by several different creatures in one day.
Speaking of creatures, I felt something brush against my leg. I cringed and moved my leg away. Something brushed against it again. I was immersed in mud. Nothing could see me, but I could see nothing either.
It was just one of the peaceful, tree-loving beasts. That’s all. I could probably reach a hand out …
The computer beeped.
“Heart rate accelerated. Are you injured?”
“No. I don’t think so?”
“Please remain calm. Environment sensors activated.”
“Environment sensors?” I asked VELMA. “You mean like, you could tell me if I’m in a mud pit or something?”
“High levels of bio-matter indicate the rich presence of bio-available nutrients. There is also a large amount of methane and excrement indicators.”
I shuddered and grimaced. Better to be buried in a massive pit of liquid excrement than to be drawn and quartered by that hulking alien out there.
“VELMA, sleep mode.”
I needed radio silence. It had some kind of electric armor. It could intercept my radio waves. I predicted it had thermal vision and night vision and so on. Honestly, I didn’t know why I wasn’t already discovered. Mud, maybe.
I felt another bump against my leg. Shivering, I reached toward it. My tentative gloved fingers found a large limb. The mud creature! It was in no hurry, and my touch didn’t faze it at all. I moved through the mud and sidled myself so close to the hippo thing that we should write up some wedding invitations. I had a wild idea, and I prayed it would work.
I just kept petting the beast’s huge belly. As long as I knew where its legs were, I couldn’t be stepped on. I hoped his smaller friend stayed back, too. And if the alien did have some kind of life-form sensor, my little life-sign should be obscured by these big HipCow things.
I waited. And waited. When two hours had gone by, my oxygen sensors indicated my stores were at half capacity. I was still alive. My heart had even returned to its normal pace. And if that thing hadn’t found me by now, that meant it lost my trail.
With careful movements, I made my way around the huge beast; it was even bigger than a Clydesdale. I debated going around the back or front but thinking about those huge teeth had me risking the bubble-maker in the back. Better to be farted on than chewed up. With one hand resting against the rough hide of my new best friend, I reached and stretched until I felt the shore. This was a huge risk. The armored figure could just have been having a smoke and waiting for me to come up for air. If that was the case, it would have the advantage, because I needed to wipe the mud off my visor before I could see anything.
Sidling close to the HipCow, I wiped the front of my helmet. My gloves smeared away a thick layer of goop. I looked around the entire pit, searching the shoreline for the dark-red armor of the dino-hunter. Nothing.
“VELMA, scan for life-forms or for the beacon.”
“Scanning.”
I recalled seeing the busted beacon in one of the armored dude’s gloves. VELMA had sensed either the beacon or the dude. It should still work.
“Two amphibious creatures are within one meter. No other life-forms detected. Beacon unavailable.”
I sighed. One meter, huh? My hand still rested on one of their flanks. At least the AI narrowed the distance down. It picked up the large creatures fine. Although it had given me no warning about the snake. None.
I just had to be extra cautious.
With no sign of the hunter, I crept out of the mud pit. I was now on the shore where the HipCow had eaten that small tree. I needed a game plan.
I squatted and used a hand to wipe away mud from the back of my helmet where the solar panels were embedded. I would need to discover an area with more sun. The recharging warning alerted me I had thirty minutes to charge the panels.
While climbing the hill had been difficult, it wasn’t as hard as it would have been on Earth. But falling for my life and all the near-death alien animal encounters had taken their toll. I needed rest, some food, and a stiff drink. Recycled pee sounded great about now.
The problem was, I couldn’t go back to the EEP.
Assuming the hunter was, in fact, the same one I had witnessed nearly die in a pack of dinosaurs, then it had to have found my vehicle. And then my tracks. It was tracking me. Hunting me. Those eyes …
His gaze sent a shiver through me that started from the base of my spine and ended up firing from every nerve ending in my body. His helmet said, “I’m going to kill you and enjoy it.” I was fine to never see those glowing red eyes again.
And his sword! It was serrated, a shiny purplish-silver color, and emblazoned with weird symbols that glowed with the light of the two suns shining on this planet. I shuddered at the mental image of him using it to disembowel me. Okay, I wasn’t hungry anymore.
I sat, my haunches complaining from overuse.
If I couldn’t return to the EEP, then where could I go? What could I do?
My suit protected me from poisonous barbs and was impenetrable by those wicked gigantic wasps. I hadn’t noticed fangs on the snake, but that was because I’d scrambled away before it could open its mouth and show me. I didn’t know if my suit would work against fangs, teeth, and claws—I was beginning to sweat under my suit. This planet might have oxygen and water and bioavailable nutrients, but just about every living thing on it was out to end me. I couldn’t wear my suit forever. There were things that could only be managed without it.
I needed shelter. Water. Food. A, uh, facility. Otherwise, my suit could protect my skin and control the temperature.
And I needed to launch off this planet. The beacon would have been nice. I stared at the bumpy back of my newest friend and considered the broken beacon. Did the hunter leave it up there? Was it irreparable? Would he be waiting for me to come back for it?
I lay back on the muddy shore with a groan. I was not cut out for this. I was a freaking exo-geologist. I could tell you why the topsoil on this planet was rusty orange-red; if IGMC knew I was here, they’d have me taking samples of the iron that had to be everywhere and searching for galvanite veins. But I knew nothing about strategy or evasive maneuvers or staying alive. If it wasn’t for my suit, I’d have been dead four or five times by now. I paused mid-thought. I did know about evasive maneuvers and staying alive. Thanks to Chris.
I stared up through the canopy, watching the streaming light filter through tiny cracks of green and yellow leaves. How many times had I thought it was the end? Now I was here. When I wasn’t fighting off hungry predators, it was peaceful, hearing the slow munching of the HipCows. I wanted to name them. I barely passed Latin in high school, so it wouldn’t be a scientific name. More like Fred and Mabel.
I watched the leaves above me tremble in the wind. Except the humidity according to VELMA was 100%. There was no wind. Schist.
It was time to stand up and face whatever death had in store for me now. I closed my eyes and took a quick breath.
I opened my eyes and saw a huge butterfly. Well, not a butterfly. It was a long insect with great wings, but they weren’t in that four-lobed shape of the butterflies on Earth. There were three lobes on each side, and the edges were feathered. Shimmers of blue and green rippled across the wings. It fluttered along, descending closer to me until it landed on a huge yellow-green bush with tiny white flowers. The winged insect with eight legs, (Lovely—an arachnid butterfly. Cruel, cruel planet.) had a tiny proboscis. It fit into the white flowers and danced along the leaves o
f the bush. I sat up, but it paid me no mind, so intent on feeding from the blossoms. I was dying to smell this planet, but again, not brave enough to remove my helmet just yet.
I crouched and crawled a little closer. The blue-green butterfly was as big as a bicycle tire. It was so beautiful I could almost cry.
I watched it until it had exhausted the nectar of the entire bush, and then it floated away between the foliage.
My eye caught sight of an odd-colored rock, and my heart rate picked up. I bent over and retrieved it, satisfied when I hefted it in both hands. It was exactly what I thought it was. Not rock—clay. Back home I once found a huge clay deposit in the bed of a stream. I had realized with growing excitement it was everywhere and had collected tons to sculpt with. Finding this clay by the mud pit meant something specific to this exo-geologist today. Now.
A fumarole meant there was a subsoil fissure. Blue clay indicated sedimentary deformation. And where fissures and deformation met—water created vast tunnels of streams and rivers. Basically?
It meant there were caves nearby.
12
I stared at the mud-beasts for a long time. They were not known to eat meat. But other than the flat rock where my enemy must have rested earlier, there was no sign of her. I scratched at the dried mud on the rock. It flaked easily. She would have sat here after her first fall into the pit. I could mark the path she took up the bluff. Broken branches and swaths of flattened brush where she struggled.
This spy was not equal in ability to the Theraxl.
Considering her pale skin and bright eyes, I wondered what she was. She was not of the Makathel race. We had enough trouble with them, I knew they resembled Theraxl. I had seen the flesh of her face. From her trail sign I deduced she had two arms and two legs, as did Theraxl. Yet, she was so small. How had one so defenseless come to be on this planet? Were there other races trying to find the Sister Planets? A trembling stirred in my chest.
Ikshe was too desirable. Too perfect. Other races would see it and want to make it their own.
A flash of her eyes came to mind. How they widened in terror just before she fell.
It stirred something inside me.
I felt the crease form between my brows beneath my helmet. The Goddesses were toying with this Theraxl, so long had I been waiting for the Lottery to show me favor.
Theraxl’s greatest honor was to have many offspring. It was bestowed upon those mighty hunters who’d earned the privilege of having their name put in the Lottery. Fifteen cycles I had brought generous portions of meat to the Royal Court. Fifteen cycles my name had gone into the Lottery. And fifteen cycles I had not been chosen to mate with one of the unattached females of the Royal Court.
My disappointment had hardened to resolve.
This cycle was already different in so many ways.
A large bubble popped in the pit, startling me. Shame, fleeting and sharp like a sting, brought me to attention. I had been lost in selfish thoughts. I had a spy to discover.
I traced the path of her fall thrice. I knew the spot where she would have fallen in. I stepped into the pit, but it was shallow where I stood.
She couldn’t stay down in the pit. It was filled with noxious poisons. Yet I couldn’t detect a spot where she had left the pit. I circled it, noting the vegetation at the shore. The only place where there was evidence of her tiny hands climbing out was the place where she had made her way back up the bluff after her first fall. She couldn’t have passed me. I would have seen her.
I climbed halfway up the embankment. I paused at the blood. I had seen it before. Touching it and bringing it to my nose, I smelled the blood of the talathel. She had maimed it. The fatally wounded talathel would retreat.
It was a dark tunnel. The vegetation was thick. Its trail was fouled with bones and excrement. Could the talathel have lain in wait and snatched her from the fall?
For once, my size was a liability. I could force my way into the game trail, but a wounded talathel cornered in its lair was not something I wanted to meet.
I had a sinking feeling my enemy had met her end. Either suffocating and dying in the pit, or being mauled by the mud-beasts, or devoured by the talathel.
When I looked up at the green canopy, another possibility came to mind. One of the rodaxl could have snatched her.
I rubbed the spot above my heart-home. An unfamiliar ache pinched my soul.
Frowning, I left the mud pit and headed to my ship. I needn’t have worried about an alien spy. Ikthe could take care of herself.
I would send word. The Royal Court must think me dead. How they would crow to hear of my triumphant survival!
When I broke through the ikfal, I felt the Shegoshel smiling upon me before their spheres sunk below the horizon. But I had no smile for them in return.
13
The first sun went down. According to VELMA, I had thirty minutes before the second sun went down. So far, no luck. I’d been attacked by five more of those damn black wasps the size of ravens, but I discovered they cannibalized their dead. How convenient for me. I used my multi-tool like a tiny machete, but it was worthless in that application. I had been scouring the muddy banks for hours and now the light was waning.
Considering the predators that came out during the day were ruthless, I couldn’t wait to see what the night had in store.
It was a shame the beefy dinosaur killer looked like he wanted my head on his wall. It would have been nice to have an ally on this world. I wondered about his robot and if his vehicle made it to his home.
Who would choose to live on this planet?
“VELMA, are there signs of civilization on this planet?”
“The transospheric nanosatellite array shows no traces of civilization. The absence of pollutants in both the air and water, in addition to the lack of architectural features on the planet’s surface indicate a Class B planet.”
I remembered from my interplanetary studies that Class As were habitable planets that had not been visited by sentient life. Class Bs were habitable but uncolonized and had been visited at least once. By definition, as soon as any EEP landed on a Class A, it became a Class B. But then again, the presence of that armored hunter also classified Death Planet as a B.
My teeth worried my lip as I thwacked away at a stubborn low bush. No signs of civilization or architectural features meant the armored hunter didn’t, in fact, have a house here. That meant he had a ship.
If my cave plan didn’t work out, maybe I could bring a peace offering to the hunter. Of course, he was probably long gone by now. “I come in peace,” wouldn’t have worked anyway. He looked angry the last time I saw him. With my beacon.
I reached down to grab at the thick branch and twist it off, when a gust of breeze eddied out of a small dark opening. I held my breath as the dead leaves whirled around me. I longed to feel the air on my face. Entering a cave or animal den was at least as dangerous as traipsing around the lovely picnic planet, so the suit was going nowhere. I could imagine the dank smell and cool air. I loved spelunking when I was a teen.
I crouched down and activated my helmet light. Using the broken branch, I poked in front of me. I scanned the tunnel that was maybe twice as wide as I was. One of those snakes could fit inside, but it looked like an arboreal reptile. The floor of the opening was dry and littered with a lot of brittle old brush. No scat. A very good sign so far.
I continued my slow crawl and exploration. My solar panels had been charging when I was scoping the area around the pit, so I had plenty of air. VELMA’s volatile emissions scanner showed breathable air outside my suit as well. I tried not to get my hopes up, but having a safe place to strip off my suit and take a seat sounded about like heaven.
I noticed a widening of the tunnel as well as a gentle decline. I could stand up here. The topography was confusing me. This low, the floor of the cave should be damp with puddles scattered about. I proceeded, lighting the walls for signs of any visitors.
Not even a handprint.
A wave of loneliness swept over me, and I had to lean against a wall for a second. I could not think about the facts right now. I needed a simple place to disrobe and rest. That was it. I was not going to dwell on the crash landing, the bazillion ways I might die here, or the fact I was completely and utterly alone. Nope. And that wasn’t a tear at the corner of my eye, either.
I stood back up and walked deeper into the cave.
My visor screen lit up.
“Sensors indicate a large life-form nearby.”
Oh schist!
Nearby for VELMA was like—
Something hit me from behind and I fell onto my knees. I rolled and brought up my multi-tool. Pliers would work in a pinch against whatever was …
I screamed.
A spider the size of the family dog waved its front two legs at me while its mouth parts opened and closed menacingly. I couldn’t sniff the air, but I had perfect hearing. Its mouth clacked together in a sickening crunching noise.
I held my tool forward, mimicking the leg-waving with my two arms.
All the wasp attacks gave me about eighty percent confidence in the strength of my suit. But that didn’t mean I wanted those mandibles anywhere near me.
I turned on my mic.
“It’s okayyy, little spider,” I said in a soft voice. “I won’t hurrrt you.”
That might have been a lie.
It backed away the tiniest bit.
“Um, want to hear a song?”
“Sinus tachycardia detected. BPM 120 and rising.”
Not now, VELMA.
It backed away again. It was working!
My voice shook. “The itsy-bitsy spider went up the waterspout!” My tool handy, I did the motions.
“Down came the rain and washed the spider out!” The spider cocked its super ugly head and stared at me with a million eyes. Okay, spider was just the approximation for whatever this thing was. It was furry and had a lot of legs.
