Analog Science Fiction and Fact - 2014-05

by Penny Publications

  According to their global positioning unit, they were close to the location where the transmitter had been detected. Karen signaled to the others to be quiet. Except for the rustling of wind in the branches above, the forest was silent, but as she scrutinized the canopy through her binoculars, she was struck again by the sense that something was lurking just out of sight.

  A second later, Amanda called her over. She was studying something on the ground. "Take a look at this."

  Karen made her way to where the other women were standing. Bending down, she saw a small object in the undergrowth, nearly concealed by the ferns. It was the body of a pitohui.

  As Emily pulled the ferns to either side, Karen got a better look. The bird had been partially eaten, the soft tissues of its belly hollowed out and its hind legs gone, with glossy brown ants crawling across the ruin of its wings. Using a latex glove, Karen extracted a tiny device from the remains. It was the transmitter. The antenna was bent, but it was still working.

  She showed it to the others. "Looks like something got to it first. A lizard, maybe."

  Emily frowned at the pitohui. "So why didn't the poison in its feathers protect it?"

  "Even the best defenses can fail." Karen photographed the remains. "Bag it up."

  As Emily collected what was left of the bird, brushing away the insects and wrapping up the rest, Karen raised her binoculars again. Amanda spoke quietly at her side. "What do you think?"

  "I think we should head back," Karen said, keeping her lenses trained on the canopy. "Hiroshi may have caught other specimens. Hopefully they'll be luckier than this one was—"

  She broke off. Looking up, she saw branches tremble as something moved through the trees. She kept the glasses steady, focusing on the spot where she had seen the disturbance, but whatever had caused it had already vanished. Karen lowered the binoculars. "Let's go."

  Their hike back to camp was conducted in relative silence. As they neared the beach, rain began to fall, a drumbeat that began as a rumor in the canopy and grew into a steady downpour.

  When they emerged from the forest again, it was dusk. Leaving the shelter of the trees, Karen found that the wind had continued to rise, the water combed by dark swells. Hiroshi and Jesse had made camp in a sheltered area beneath a limestone cliff, a hundred yards from where they had left the second dinghy, with a groundsheet and worktable under a canvas awning. She noticed that two members of the team were missing. "Where are Patrick and Bulisa?"

  "I haven't seen Patrick since this morning," Hiroshi said. "He went into the forest to set up a light trap. Bulisa came back on his own, but he took off an hour ago. Any luck on your end?"

  "Not exactly." Karen quickly explained what they had found. "What about the nets?"

  Hiroshi fished out his field notes. "A slow day. Two specimens. A black sunbird and shin ing flycatcher, but no pitohuis. There are fewer birds here than on any island we've seen so far. And we need to take down the net lanes."

  Karen knew that he was right. Under most circumstances, dusk would have been a favorable time to catch birds, but the nets could not be used safely in the rain. "That's fine. Amanda and Emily can give you a hand."

  Amanda seemed less than pleased about the delay, but she finally joined the others at the nets. As Karen got out her laptop, Jesse radioed the Rosalind. According to the captain, with waves rising and winds over twenty knots, it would be safest for the team to wait out the storm. Jesse glanced at Karen, who nodded. "We'll manage. Let's circle back in the morning."

  After signing off, Jesse went to make dinner, while Karen started to organize her own notes. Spreading a map across the worktable, its corners held down with small stones, she tried to lay out what she knew so far, listening to the rain beating against the canvas. The relative absence of birds was surprising, but she knew that island rules governed the distribution of species, which rarely consisted of a random sample from the mainland. There were countless factors involved.

  As she considered this, Karen thought back to the dead pitohui they had discovered in the forest. Taking out the remains that Emily had collected, she glanced at them briefly, and she was about to pack them up again when her attention was struck by something else.

  She put on gloves and opened the bag, withdrawing the object that had caught her eye. It was a long flight feather that had been gathered up with the others, but as she looked at it now, something about it seemed strange. It was black, iridescent, and considerably larger than the rest. Frowning, she removed one of her gloves and ran a hand across the barbs, which were stiff and resilient. When she touched her fingertips to her mouth, she felt her lips go numb.

  A second later, she heard a shout. Turning, she saw a man emerge from the trees. It was Bulisa. He had something flung over his back, and as he came forward, she realized that it was a body.

  Karen rose from the table, the feather fluttering from her fingers to the ground, where it was carried away by the wind. She ran toward Bulisa, who saw her coming. Halting, he laid the dead man on the sand. It was Patrick. As Karen looked down at his open eyes, they began to fill up with rain.

  Hearing footsteps, she saw Amanda racing up the beach, white with shock. "What happened?"

  Karen only took the dead man by the arms. She motioned to Bulisa. "Help me."

  With Jesse's assistance, they took the body and laid it beneath the awning. Examining it more closely, Karen saw bite marks on its face and shoulders. Rain had washed away most of the blood, but it was clear that scavengers or predators had been at the remains for some time.

  Then she saw that the body's arms were bent inward, the fists clenched, as if Patrick had convulsed before dying. She looked at Amanda. "I think he died of batrachotoxin poisoning."

  Amanda stared. All the color in her face had drained away. "That's impossible."

  Karen saw Emily and Hiroshi approaching with the nets. Bulisa was standing apart from the others, the rain pouring down over his shoulders. She motioned to Hiroshi. "Ask him what happened."

  Hiroshi turned to Bulisa and spoke in halting Yele. Bulisa replied in a low voice, with Hiroshi translating as best as he could. "He says he left Patrick alone in the woods to go exploring. When he saw that Patrick hadn't returned to camp, he went looking for him. It took him a long time to find the spot again. The generator had gone out. Patrick was on the ground, and there was something on his chest. Before he could get any closer, it flew off. He says—" Hiroshi broke off abruptly and looked at the others. "He says it was a ropen."

  Karen noticed that only Jesse seemed to know what this meant. "That's ridiculous."

  Amanda was still looking at the body. The band that held back her hair had come undone. "What's a ropen?"

  "It's a cryptid," Karen said sharply. "An unknown animal. It's supposed to live on islands in New Guinea. The stories claim that it's some kind of flying creature with wings like a bat."

  Jesse was already nodding. "I've heard the villagers talking about it. They see it flying over the reefs and beaches at night. It eats fish and birds, but also robs graves and carries away children and animals. And it glows in the dark. Some people think it's a kind of pterosaur—"

  "Which is absurd," Karen said. "It's more likely to be a frigatebird or flying fox."

  "A frigatebird didn't do this," Emily said, pointing at the teeth marks. She turned to Hiroshi. "Ask him to describe it."

  After hearing the question, Bulisa knelt, using his body to shield the ground from the rising wind, and drew something with the tip of his bush knife in the dampened sand. Hiroshi translated what he was saying. "He says the ropen had claws halfway up its wings. A tail with a diamond at one end. A bright patch, like fire, on its body. And a head like a crocodile."

  Karen looked at what Bulisa had drawn. Under his knife, a sketch had taken shape of a creature with wings and a long tail, and it did look something like a pterosaur. "How big was it?"

  When the question had been translated, Bulisa held his hands about four feet apart. Karen turne
d back to the body. "It could have been a hawk or eagle. They'll sometimes feed on carrion—"

  "But we haven't seen any," Emily said. "And those bites weren't made by an eagle."

  "They also weren't what killed him." Karen looked at Amanda. "What are the symptoms of batrachotoxin poisoning?"

  Amanda's eyes remained fixed on the dead man. "Muscle contractions. Cardiac arrest and convulsions. But you can't get a lethal dose by handling birds or beetles." She turned toward Karen. "What am I going to tell the firm?"

  "I don't know. But we can't stay here." Karen tried to take things one step at a time, sensing that the others were waiting for her to tell them what to do. "We need to bring the body back to the main island. If we leave now, we should be able to get to the boat before the storm gets worse. Jesse, tell them we're coming. Hiroshi and Emily, help me pack up here."

  She looked up the beach, where a few mist nets were still visible in the rain. "Amanda, go with Bulisa and take down the rest of the nets. I'll see after this. But we need to leave soon."

  After a second, Amanda tore her eyes from the body and headed off with Bulisa. Karen watched as she went up the beach, then glanced back down at the ground. The wind had erased the drawing in the sand.

  Moving as quickly as they could, they wrapped Patrick's body in a white groundsheet and tied it with nylon cord. As Jesse and Hiroshi carried the bundle to the dinghy, Karen began packing up the rest of the equipment, starting with the laptop and satellite phone. Sensing that Emily was shaken, she touched the younger woman's arm. "Listen, it's going to be all right."

  Emily nodded, but in the fading light, Karen saw that she was barely holding herself together. Once the first bag had been packed, she gave it to Emily to bring to the dinghy. As she did, she noticed for the first time that the sun had gone down, and it was growing too dark to see clearly.

  Taking the bag, Emily switched on a flashlight and went to join the others. Karen kept an eye on her as she walked away in the rain, the wind blowing her own graying hair to one side, and was starting to fold up the worktable when she saw something in the trees by the sand.

  Karen turned. Something dark and winged was crawling up a sago palm less than ten yards away. Her first incoherent thought was that she knew exactly what it was. And it was nothing like a pterosaur.

  Before she could react, she heard a scream. Karen spun to look up the shore. Through the storm, it was hard to make out the dinghy, but the shriek could only have come from Emily.

  Karen picked up her own flashlight and ran into the rain. Up ahead, she could see the glow from the other lights. When she had covered close to a hundred yards of beach, she found Emily standing by herself, backing up slowly, her flashlight clutched loosely at her side.

  Following her eyes, Karen saw something on the ground. It was Jesse. He was on his back, his flashlight lying a few feet away, and at first glance, it seemed as if a misshapen black lump had risen from his chest. Next to the dinghy, where the body in its plastic shroud had been placed, Hiroshi was swinging a machete, fighting off something in the darkness.

  Then the lump on Jesse's chest straightened up. For an instant, Karen caught a flash of something orange, framed by feathers of black, and then it flapped its wings and came for her.

  Karen ran. As she did, she saw more creatures detach themselves from the dinghy. A few went for Hiroshi, who fell in a hail of dark bodies, but more flew her way on their heavy wings.

  The flashlight was still in her hand. Without thinking, she threw it to one side and saw one of the winged things detach from the others to follow it. When the pinwheeling light hit the sand, it caught the creature briefly in its beam, giving her a glimpse of claws and a mouthful of needlelike teeth.

  Behind her, there was another scream. Karen turned her head and saw that one of the creatures had landed on Emily's back, making it seem as if a pair of inky wings had sprouted between the young woman's shoulders. Emily cried out in disgust, flinging it away, but the blood was already running down her arms, and Karen realized that it had bitten her.

  The others were still coming. Karen continued to run toward the campsite, the wind driving the rain against her face. When she looked back again, she saw Emily take two steps forward, then fall convulsing to the ground, her legs kicking up divots of sand before the paralysis took hold. The creature she had flung aside flew forward again and perched on her back, tearing at her with its claws as Emily spasmed once more, then grew still.

  Karen had just enough time to see the other creatures circle back to feed on the fallen. Then she ran for her life.

  III.

  As Karen neared what was left of the camp, she saw Amanda and Bulisa racing forward, their flashlights shining in the darkness. She gestured at them urgently. "Turn them off. They're drawn to it."

  When they were slow to respond, Karen pulled the flashlights from their hands herself and looked back toward the dinghy. Through the veil of rain, she saw the creatures, which she had already begun to think of as the cryptids, tearing at the victims on the ground. A pair of abandoned flashlights lay in the sand, illuminating the bodies. None of them were moving.

  She turned to the others. "Get back to camp now. We don't have much time." Taking Amanda by the shoulders, she all but pushed her toward the campsite. "Move. If they bite us, we'll die—"

  This broke the spell into which Amanda had fallen. They ran through the rain toward the awning, with Bulisa following close behind with his bush knife. When they were under the canvas again, Karen ventured another look at the cryptids. The bodies up the beach were keeping them busy, but she didn't think they would ignore the rest of them for long.

  Looking down, she saw the emergency kit that Hiroshi and the others had carried from the dinghy when they swam ashore. She tore it open, rooting through its contents, knowing already that she would not find what she needed. They had no guns or weapons. Except—

  Her hand closed around the flare gun. Pulling it out, she loaded it with shaking fingers and gave it to Bulisa. "Stay here. Shoot anything that comes close. But don't pull the trigger unless you have to. You understand?"

  Bulisa seemed to grasp what she was saying. He tightened his grip on the gun and turned toward the dinghy, standing beside the awning in the rain. A pile of mist nets lay at his feet. Karen scooped up one of the bundles and thrust a pole into Amanda's hands. "You remember how to do this?"

  Amanda stared blankly at her for a second, then nodded, her face pale. Karen took the other pole and pushed it into the sand, keeping an eye on the cryptids. Remembering the claws she had seen, she sensed it would not be nearly enough, but it was better than nothing at all.

  After driving the pointed end of the pole as far into the ground as it would go, she slid the loops over it, then helped Amanda extend the net so it stood between the awning and the dinghy. Taking a mallet, she drove in the four stakes, securing the pole, then tossed it to Amanda as Bulisa remained on guard. When they were done, she tested the net with one hand. It wasn't much, not by any stretch of the imagination, but with luck, they could reinforce it later.

  Amanda had already picked up a second net. "Two more. We can make a triangle."

  Karen heard a tremor in her voice, but saw that she was keeping herself under control. She took up a second pole. A minute later, they had strung three nets in a triangular barricade around the awning, the cryptids by the dinghy continuing to feed. In case they had to leave in a hurry, Karen left a gap between the two poles at the rear, propping up the folded table to cover it.

  Finally, she turned toward the water. The waves were still swelling violently in the wind, but she could just make out the lights of the sailboat anchored a kilometer away. With a stab of dread, she remembered that the satellite phone and laptop had already been taken to the dinghy, and there was no way they could retrieve it now. But they still had the radio.

  Crouching under the canvas, she tried to raise the boat. For a minute, there was nothing but static. She tried again, the panic she had fo
ught away threatening to rise, and finally the captain answered. "What's going on?"

  "We're in trouble," Karen said, swallowing hard. "Four of us are dead, including Jesse. Amanda and Bulisa are the only ones left."

  There was a disbelieving pause on the other end. "What the hell happened?"

  "It's hard to explain." Karen took a breath, then looked out at the cryptids at the other end of the beach. "There's a predator here. We're pinned down at the campsite. You need to put out a distress call."

  "I'll radio the mainland," the captain said, his voice creased with static. "And we'll take the boat as close as we can. But there's no anchorage here. And even if we can get a rescue copter out in a storm like this, it may not be for hours. You'll need to use the dinghies."

  "That may not be possible. One of them is out of bounds. The other—" She glanced at the guide. "Talk to Bulisa. Get him to tell you exactly where the first dinghy was anchored."

  She motioned to the guide, who had a short exchange with the captain in Yele, pointing toward the reef to the southwest. When she got back on the radio, the captain's voice was tense. "He says they anchored it half a kilometer from the beach. They were able to swim the rest of the way, but that was before the storm. What are you dealing with there?"

  "I haven't seen it before," Karen said. "Nobody has. All I know is that they'll kill anything that gets too close. I'll take another look and see if I can tell you more. Just place that distress call."

  When Karen signed off, she saw a hard look on Amanda's face. "We'll swim for it."

  "I don't think so." Karen turned to the ocean, where the wind was blowing the rain in nearly horizontal sheets. Years ago, she had been swept overboard from a research yacht in a gale, and she knew how easy it would be for the waves to pull them under. "Once the storm ends, we'll go. But not now."

  Amanda looked out at the carnage at the dinghy. "I'm not just going to wait for them to come for us."

  "We're not going to wait," Karen said. "We're going to get ready. Come on."