by Mark Wandrey
Others of Splunk’s kind began to eye them as they moved through the cavern. Just like before, they observed the pair, but did not approach. He wanted desperately to get a better look at them, but Splunk chirped annoyingly at him whenever he stopped, so he continued following her instead. They arrived at an almost invisible fracture in the cavern wall. Splunk stood at the crack and pointed inside.
“I hate this job,” Jim said and shook his head. Splunk pointed again, and he nodded assent. Once more into the darkness.
After going a few yards inside he saw that they weren’t in total darkness. Splunk held a strange frilly mushroom bunch with her tail, and it was glowing brilliantly. He recognized it as one of the kinds that hung from the roof of the cavern. When had she found time to go and get it? Did one of the others of her kind bring it to her? That not only implied intelligent language, but also the ability to do so silently. What, telepaths? He chuckled at that mental image. Out of the thousands of races, none of the carbon-based “main” races possessed verifiable telepathy. A couple had a sort of natural psychic link, but of a type that could be channeled using instrumentation.
Jim almost lost track of his guide, he’d been too busy trying to figure out the bioluminescent fungus and forgot to follow her. The tunnel turned and ahead there was a glow. He sped up and, as he cleared the bend, there was Splunk, squatting in the space, glowing fungus held up in her tail and looking at him impatiently.
“Sorry,” he said.
“Cheep, akeeto…
He continued to follow his guide for more than an hour through the glowing spaces, and he spent a lot of that time climbing. When he felt the first chill wind he got excited. Then it got a lot colder, and his excitement was tempered by a shiver.
“Splunk,” he said, “I have to put on my cold weather clothing.” He opened the pack and pulled out the survival suit he hadn’t worn in days. Splunk sat down and watched him with interest as he got the suit on and enjoyed the basic warmth. But without power, it was just a fancy set of long johns. “Okay,” he said at last, “continue.”
They resumed their climb upwards once more. A few minutes later, sunlight was illuminating the tunnel ahead of them. The cold was also much more intense. Jim was surprised by how the light hurt his eyes. Splunk had it much worse. She was holding a hand over her eyes and looking away from the light. She was in pain from it, and he knew it.
“I’ll be right back,” he said, while slipping the suit’s gloves on. Jim climbed up to where the light was shining and opened his pack. A minute later he slid back down next to Splunk, and then further around the corner where the sunlight didn’t reach. Splunk took her hand away and winced back in the direction of the sunlight unhappily. Jim made sure the line he’d trailed down from the solar cells was sound and checked the battery. It already had a one percent charge. “And what do I do when it’s charged?” he wondered aloud. For once, Splunk had nothing to add.
Jim found a comfortable position and relaxed. After a while, he slept. He didn’t know how long, but when he woke up Splunk was gone, and the battery showed it was twenty-eight percent charged. He pulled his glove down far enough to reveal his watch. He’d been asleep for four hours. He needed another sixteen for the charge to be complete, but the meter showed no more power coming in. It was night above.
“Splunk?” Jim called, his voice echoing down the long tunnel he’d climbed up hours ago. No answering chirps or other strange sounds followed. He sighed and dug his last ration cube from the pack along with the heater, which, thanks to the solar cells, was now working again. He’d gotten used to the heating stones Splunk provided and was amazed to realize they were faster than the energy stove’s normal source. “I wonder if there is a market for alien heating stones?”
The last of the food tasted good, and that annoyed him because he remembered just how bad it had tasted the first time he’d tried it almost a week ago. Still, it was better to have a full stomach than an empty one. After he’d cleaned up and stowed his cooking gear, he accessed his pinplants and went over the files he’d made while underground, including estimates of travel distance and direction. He hoped it would help him find his way back to his company’s camp. Either way, he was tired again so he set an alarm in his implants and allowed sleep to take him. He drifted off hoping Splunk would be okay, and grateful for the little being’s help.
* * * * *
Chapter 24
Murdock watched the data feeds from the dropship’s cockpit as it flew over the frozen landscape only a thousand feet below them. They’d been searching for a week now, and despite Hargrave’s unwillingness to give up on the kid, it had just about reached that point. There were a pair of Duplato aboard to provide local area knowledge. They’d pointed out a few caves in the area. Nothing that could have kept someone alive without extensive skills or tools, though, and Jim Cartwright possessed neither of those.
“We’re bingo fuel,” Jane Wheeler called to Murdock over the internal link. “I guess that’s it.”
“It’s been a week,” he replied. “I know you all love the fat little dude, but he should never have come out here. He could have run this op from orbit.”
“That tank was a piece of work,” she said.
“I’m still not convinced it wasn’t just luck.” Crazy-assed good luck, he thought, just not enough of it.
“Coming around to head for base,” Jane said, and the dropship banked.
A while later, Murdock was going over some of the reports he needed to sign off on as First Sergeant. The dropship flew toward base and was approaching the site of the battle where Jim was lost. He accessed the dropship’s cameras inside his CASPer and could see the huge, black scorched section of ground less than a mile away as they flew past. And then he saw a spark of color flash into the sky.
“We have a flare,” Jane called out a heartbeat later, and the Phoenix banked hard in that direction.
“Careful,” Murdock cautioned, “it could be a trap.”
“No sightings in days,” she said, “besides, it matches the thermal signature of our emergency flares.”
“No fucking way,” Murdock said as he detached from the lockpoint holding his CASPer in place and moved aft using the intermittent handholds. The three other troopers with him watched as he held on while the dropship descended and flared to land, the dropship door lowering just as it settled in a swirl of snow and ice. A shape came walking forward in the storm of debris kicked up by the dropship’s landing, holding up an arm to shield his face from the flying snow and ice. There was no mistaking the portly shape of Jim Cartwright.
“Yes, fucking way,” Jane said from the cockpit, a laugh in her voice.
Murdock clomped his suit down to the bottom of the ramp as Jim leaned against the wind of the idling dropship engines. Murdock could just make out the young man’s broad grin through the environmental mask. Jim tossed aside the flare launcher as he approached and spoke.
“Thanks for picking me up. I only had about twenty percent power left in the survival suit.” Murdock laughed and shook his head. Then he brought the CASPer to attention and affected an awkward, overly long-armed salute.
“Welcome back, Commander.”
“Good to be back,” he said.
“Glad you made it, sir,” Jane Wheeler said over the cabin’s PA, “but we’re bingo fuel and not 100% sure there aren’t any unfriendlies around, so if you can get aboard?”
“Of course,” he said and climbed the ramp. Jim managed to not convey just how terrified he’d been only moments ago as Murdock followed him inside, and the ramp began to retract. The other men had the canopies open on their suits and were looking at him in amazement as he stripped off the mask and gloves, revealing that he looked no different than when he’d been lost. His cheeks were a little furry, but he’d only needed to shave once a week anyway. He held onto a strut as the engines spun up to their normal scream, and the Phoenix climbed back into the air.
“What’s everyone looking at?” Jim asked.
“A ghost,” one of the troopers said without hesitation.
“You’ve been gone for over six days,” Murdock told him. “This was the last search flight, actually. We were about to declare you lost in action.” Jim shook his head. One moment of luck after another. He hoped he had a lot more for the future.
Jim unzipped the top of his suit, and Splunk stuck her head out.
“Capoo, skee!” she chirped at all the strangers. Her eyes were covered with a pair of sunglasses Jim had improvised from some plastic in the survival kit and a little paracord. Her eyes lit on the CASPers, and she got excited. “
“I know,” Jim said; “impressive, aren’t they?”
“What the fuck is that thing?” Murdock asked as he looked at the creature. In a flash Splunk extracted herself from inside Jim’s survival suit where she’d been wedged against the cold, and she leapt a dozen feet to land on Murdock’s CASPer. Before he could do a thing, she was inside the cockpit with him examining all the instruments and controls, all the while chirping, hiccupping, and babbling happily. “Is it dangerous?” Murdock asked, trying not to touch it.
“No,” Jim laughed, “she saved my life. Well, others of her kind probably helped. But she’s smart, and I’m certain her species is sentient.” The little being figured out one of the maintenance releases and a hatch popped open on the suit, much to Murdock’s chagrin. “She really likes mechanical stuff. A lot.”
“You found a Fae,” one of the two Duplato said, and pointed a long claw at Splunk. She stopped for a second to look out of an access hatch on Murdock’s suit and examine the speaker. After a moment, she was back at it.
“You know of them?” Jim asked.
“Of course, they share our world. Every winter they move underground to the many hot spring caverns to live and wait for spring.”
“I wondered if there was ever a spring here,” Jim said. “I mean, we saw the trees and were confused.”
“Yes,” the other Duplato said, “it takes many thousands of years between seasons. We are close to spring again. Fall was more than 20,000 years ago. We live underground all the time, so we do not notice the changing of the seasons nearly as much. To the Fae, it is normal.” The other Duplato made a slight bow and spoke.
“We are sorry, we did not know there were any underground habitats near here, or we would have searched them for you.”
“Yes,” Jim said; “there are some just a couple miles north of where you found me. Two caverns.” He described them as the dropship flew, including how Splunk had come to him. Even how she’d appeared just as he was ready to emerge and refused to be left behind, despite the bright sunlight hurting her eyes. The two Duplato spoke to each other for a few moments then to Jim.
“That Fae has bonded with you,” it said. “This is rare and wonderful for you. It has not happened in my lifetime.”
“Wow,” Jim said and smiled. He couldn’t help but think it was like having his own My Little Pony character. “Are they intelligent?”
“You mean like us?” the Duplato asked. “They have an order of intelligence, including their own language.” Jim already knew that. His recordings were beginning to put Splunk’s speech into context. “However they are not independent tool makers, despite the ability they demonstrate to repair technology. It is what you would call a savant ability.”
“Shouldn’t we put it back where it came from?” Murdock wondered as Splunk examined the haptic feedback system hooked to his head.
“That would kill it,” the senior Duplato explained. “They are bonded now. That bond will only be broken by one of their deaths. And if Commander Cartwright dies, the Fae will not live out the rest of that day.”
“I guess we’re friends then,” Jim said. Splunk emerged from her examination and jumped back to Jim, apparently content. Murdock went through the diagnostics on his suit and found nothing amiss. In fact, one of the haptic sensors on his left leg had been giving him trouble, and now it appeared fine. Interesting creature.
“We’ll be landing in a minute,” Jane’s voice called out. “The entire company has turned out to welcome you back, Commander.”
An hour later Jim felt like he’d won the big football game. As Jane Wheeler had said, the entire company was on the field to welcome their commander back. Murdock gave him a quick debrief. The attacking raiders had been soundly defeated in the battle he’d been in and then twice more in cleanup raids. Only a few days ago, Traveler had ambushed the raider’s light cruiser trying to sneak through the stargate and had destroyed it with precision weapons fire.
When the Phoenix set down and taxied over to the hangar, the door opened to a crowd of applauding Cavaliers. Hargrave was at the front of the group applauding with the rest. When he caught Jim’s eye he gave a parade ground-perfect salute. A moment later a silence fell over the crowd and, as one, they all came to attention and saluted Commander Jim Cartwright. He stood up straight and returned the salute, tears glistening in his eyes.
Hargrave dropped the salute and strode forward to seize Jim in a bear hug, to which Splunk chirped indignantly because she’d been caught in the middle of it. Hargrave pulled back in surprise.
“What the heck is that?” he asked. Splunk stuck her head out of the survival jacket where she’d been enjoying Jim’s body heat as well as a nice nap. She looked at Hargrave, then up at Jim, and made a trilling sound before disappearing back into the folds of the coat.
“That,” Jim said, smiling, “is my friend.” An assault company like the Cavaliers didn’t tend to have a lot of women, CASPers just took too much upper body strength. The women who were there let out an audible “Oooh!” at the sight of Splunk. A few minutes later Jim was surrounded by the entire company, all asking questions about what happened and how he survived. The women seemed much more interested in Splunk.
After a short time, the little Fae became less shy and was willing to let a girl tickle her nose. Splunk let out an incredibly musical “Shooooo, teeek…
“Is that its language?” Hargrave asked.
“Her,” Jim corrected, “Splunk is a girl.”
“How do you know?” Jim thought about that for a second, then grunted.
“I don’t rightly know, I just do. Anyway, yes, it is her language. I’ve been storing some phrases in my pinplants, but most of the sounds are combined in a dizzying variety of ways. I’m sure that last sound was an ‘I like that’ sound.”
“What does she eat?” Jim looked up and saw Adayn looking at Splunk who was still mostly inside Jim’s survival suit.
“I haven’t seen a lot of her eating,” he admitted. Adayn pulled a standard issue protein bar from one of the dozens of pockets on her work coveralls, tore off the end of the wrapper and held it close to Splunk. The Fae leaned out a little and sniffed.
“Foo, Ptoo…
“That’s a no,” Jim said as she retracted a little into the suit. Adayn popped the bar into her mouth, and fished out a package from another pocket. This one had a zipper closure. She opened it and pulled out a piece of beef jerky. Immediately Splunk popped out, sniffing the air.
“Sak, Shoo…
“Oh, you like meat?” Adayn asked.
“Who doesn’t,” Murdock asked. He had his CASPer off, and it was being taken away by some of the techs.
Splunk reached out one of her delicate hands and took the offered jerky. She didn’t snatch it, like a wild animal would, she took it almost gingerly then nibbled on the edge. Her long feathery ears rose, and her eyes narrowed as she chewed.
“I think that’s a yes,” Adayn said. She reached over and scratched Splunk behind her extra-long ears. The Fae practicall
y purred. “You’ve made yourself quite a friend,” she told Jim.
“Yeah, I get that impression.” He was practically surrounded by every woman in the company, all cooing and trying to offer Splunk treats. It was the first time he’d ever been surrounded by girls who weren’t making fun of him.
“Splunk,” he said quietly, “you’re the gift that just keeps on giving.”
“Faa, Scoos…
Jim watched from the hangar entrance as the last heavy transport clawed up into the morning sky toward orbit. The veins of radioactive elements were played out, and the Duplato’s profits would be secured as soon as the transport made transition. Traveler awaited it in orbit to escort it to the stargate. The remaining months of the contract had passed without incident, and he felt quite satisfied with their performance. Even with losing his own suit, there were no other significant losses and the worst injury had been from skiing – a broken collarbone.
“Traveler will be back in about eight hours,” Hargrave said behind him. Jim glanced back and saw his Executive Officer standing with a steaming cup of coffee. The hangar doors were only open a few feet and the air outside was only slightly below zero, a fine warm summer day. Almost two degrees warmer than last year, according to the Duplato. Summer was returning to their world.
“I’m cold...
“Just a few more minutes,” Jim implored, then turned to Hargrave. “So, the contract is fulfilled?”
“Yes,” Hargrave agreed, “and they’re very happy. They included an extra two percent bonus.” Jim smiled, that was good news. “Shall I begin preparation for mobilization?”
“Yes,” Jim said. “Plan for the first dropships to lift off in twelve hours.”
