The last report in his queue outlined a new initiative nicknamed ‘Hound Dog’. As an Elvis Presley fan, he could appreciate the reference, but it was not a nod to the long-dead singer. Rather, Hound Dog was a systematic investigation into the destructive attack on Earth – specifically, to determine where and how the enemy got into the Sol system without being detected. The first part of the initiative began with a detailed look at every scrap of information gleaned from the first Pacifican team to arrive on the scene some forty years ago. Best estimates put the actual event some thirty years prior, and the chaotic scene they found was little more than an expanding junkyard.
The enemy destroyed every orbital platform, satellite, and ship in space. The only thing they didn’t get were the records found on the moon base, which were helpful in providing some of the information they needed. The rest was gleaned from the few intact memory modules still floating among the wreckage, and it took some time for the Sentinels to carefully scan the system and search for them. Most were irretrievably damaged, and yielded no information at all. Others supplied bits and pieces only, and nothing they found provided the full picture.
It was determined with some certainty the available Earth forces were taken by surprise when a mass of asteroids suddenly coalesced and changed trajectory on a direct heading for the planet. An analysis of the rocky remains confirmed they came from Sol’s own asteroid belt. Judging from the location and types of wreckage, numerous Earth vessels were sent out in an attempt to deflect the oncoming barrage, but were destroyed by the enemy ships which accompanied them. Those same enemy ships apparently swooped into the inner system and systematically demolished every man-made object while the Earth was being bombarded.
In addition to the piecemeal records, one small enemy ship was recovered among the debris. Though thoroughly examined, it revealed little useful information. Traces of genetic material revealed only alien DNA – characteristics and origin unknown. The ship was gutted before being cast adrift, leaving no records, engines, or technology. Metallurgic sampling of the black hull revealed a unique mixture, but nothing humans could not have produced. The interior revealed the beings were evidently bi-pedal, breathed oxygen, were somewhere around six feet tall, and had short, possibly clawed, digits. Anything more was mere conjecture, and left the historians and experts frustrated.
Hound Dog was predicated on a simple idea - the enemy either arrived further out in the system and decided to use the asteroid field as they approached, or they arrived in the belt itself. If this was the case, however unlikely, it could explain why their presence went undetected until the asteroids were well on their way. What could not be explained was how Earth, who possessed adequate sensor technology, responded as though there were no warning at all. Something strange happened which gave the enemy a distinct and overwhelming advantage. Hound Dog was designed to sniff out the secret once and for all, thereby depriving the enemy of a repeat performance.
McClure met with the team just yesterday, and was appraised of the mission goals and parameters. Their first objective was to reconstruct the enemy movements within the asteroid belt, while remaining alert for any anomalies which might explain their easy access to the system. There was a lot of ground to cover, but McClure sent them off with his blessing and a promise for any type of support he could provide.
Chapter 2
The planet Hathor, roughly ten Earth years in the past.
It was a strange twist of fate which brought humanity to the lush sub-tropical planet of Hathor, rather than the result of purposeful discovery and colonization. The small group of human males now residing there were a portion of the starship Explorer’s surviving crew. The ship fell to the Silestri, and in an uncharacteristic display of ‘kindness’, the panther-like race allowed the crew to live.
Once everyone was out of stasis, the ship’s company was divided into two groups by gender, and herded aboard waiting Silestri vessels. The men watched helplessly as their female shipmates were taken away, never to be seen again. After a short flight, the enemy vessel landed on an unknown planet, roughly disgorged the 156 humans, and returned to space. With nothing but their wits to survive, it took some time for them to learn the lay of the land, locate suitable shelter, and discover edible food. It was a steep and unforgiving learning curve, and many did not survive. While the future seemed to hold little promise, the men were determined to create the most agreeable life possible. Unless circumstances changed, it would have to be enough.
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Hathor, present day.
Jack Lovett finished planting a patch of catnip grass and stood to stretch his aching back. He and the others started shortly after dawn, but the entire work party showed signs of fatigue as midday approached and the temperature spiked. The beaters were still busy creating a ruckus all around the perimeter to scare any wildlife which happened to be lurking nearby. As long as they didn’t run into any viperheads, he would consider their workday a success. The nasty critters looked something like a cross between a large snake and an alligator, and seemed to love the taste of human flesh.
They were unusually stealthy, quiet and hard to spot, preferring to lurk in the undergrowth until a victim came near enough to strike. A painful bite was normally the first indication one of them was close, and killing them was the only way to get their jaws open. There wasn’t a single man here who had not been bitten at least once, legs and feet now disfigured by angry scars. Fortunately, they were easily frightened by vigorous movement and noise, and beaters accompanied every work party, using large branches to strike the ground ahead of them.
The area they worked today was scorched in a lightning strike some weeks back, and they finally got the chance to send out a team to replant. The use of catnip grass to distract their enemy and cover their own scent started soon after being dumped here. At first the men assumed the Silestri lived on the planet, perhaps on another continent. Later, they realized their captors must live elsewhere, but often used this planet for recreational hunting. Unfortunately, they were not averse to including humans as prey if they were foolish enough to be caught out in the open.
Within the first couple weeks, a food gathering party found themselves some distance from their base camp when a Silestri ship landed nearby and disgorged a group of hunters. As the men rushed to safety, one of them fell behind and was being stalked through the underbrush. As he passed through a large field of catnip grass, the Silestri slowed to a stop, took several deep breaths, and then began rolling through the grass. Had the man’s life not been in danger, the bizarre behavior would have been laughable. The crewman stayed long enough to observe the phenomenon, and then ran to safety before the Silestri hunter came to his senses.
Since then, the human castaways planted huge fields of the grass around their cliffside home. Instead of attracting the Silestri, it actually served to repel them, now that they understood its effects. Apparently, it also masked the scents the men left behind, and was encouraged to grow anywhere the humans frequented. Within a couple of weeks, the burn scar area would be covered with the hardy, fast growing blue-green blades. The enterprising humans even found a personal use for the grass as bedding. It was allowed to grow long and then cut and dried. The pleasant lemony scent remained, which also had a beneficial calming effect, enabling them to sleep.
Commander Jack Lovett served as Explorer’s first officer, and following the early death of Captain Watson, assumed command of the former crew members. Their safety and well being became his primary responsibility, and right now the midday heat was becoming a threat. Though he was quite pleased with the days’ work, it was time to return to base and he made a quiet whistling sound to get everyone’s attention. When the men looked his way, he put his index finger in the air and moved his hand in a small circle. He flattened his palm in a ‘wait’ gesture, and then pointed to the nearest beaters to lead them back home.
As a safety precaution, the humans generally made as little noise as possible whenever they were outside
their cliffside home. The Silestri enjoyed keen senses of smell, hearing and eyesight, and though they were normally nocturnal, were known to hunt near here during daylight hours on occasion. It was safer if they gave as few clues to their whereabouts as possible, and except for the unavoidable noise of the beaters, they walked in silence.
The rocky cliffs they claimed for themselves were actually in the foothills of a barren mountain range. Extending outward from there was a flat open plain, covered in low bushes and grasses. A calm narrow stream wound its way through the area, emptying into a larger river some distance further south. There were very few trees, either in the plain or on the mountain slopes above and behind them; a circumstance which was actually to the human’s advantage. The two things Silestri loved were water and trees. Most of their hunting and playing was done in well-watered or swampy areas.
As excellent climbers, they also made good use of forested land, not only to hunt, but to nap during the heat of the day. More than once they were spotted stretched out on broad flat branches, limbs dangling over the edge as they slept. The initial appeal of the humans cliffside home was the system of interconnected caves which provided a convenient, safe, dry place to live. Only later did they realize the lack of trees and open water held little appeal for Silestri hunters. There were disadvantages to their location as well. For one, it was much harder to remain hidden out in the open plain, but it also meant traveling farther in their own hunt for food.
In the last few years, this particular problem was solved for them. One by one, the Silestri stocked the planet with at least three animal species from Earth. Both wild boar and white tail deer were now common visitors to the plains surrounding their home. In the distance, herds of antelope grazed, though they rarely came close enough for the humans to hunt. As a result, bringing something home for dinner became decidedly easier.
It was still difficult having to rely on traps and spears for hunting, but at least they were no longer required to travel as far or be gone as long as in the past. While deer provided the bulk of their meat diet, an occasional boar was included from time to time for variety. As it turned out, the boar preferred the same habitat as viperheads, and were rather adept at killing the nasty creatures. As a result, the men only hunted them occasionally, preferring instead to allow the boar to keep the viperhead population in check.
While the new food source was a welcome addition, Lovett and some of the others realized it answered a very important question: what happened to the cradle? At their core, each of the three Earth colony ships were supplied with a self-contained vessel within the ship called a cradle. In it were all the labs, equipment, and material needed to seed a new colony world. After Exploration was captured, the men often wondered what happened to the ship, and especially the Ark containing the raw genetic material for making plant, animal and human life. Now they knew.
Assuming the Silestri destroyed the ship itself, it was obvious they retained the cradle, and were now actively using the ark. The thought of what should have been their future, now in the hands of their enemy was the stuff of nightmares, for there was nothing to prevent them from using the human genetic material in any way they chose. Lovett and his senior officers chose to keep quiet about their concerns, believing what the men didn’t know wouldn’t keep them awake at night.
As the group wound its way toward home, they came across several types of edible vegetation and paused occasionally to collect some. Tubers, greens, fungi, and berries made up part of their regular diet, as well as the pseudofish found in the nearby stream. Occasionally, they were lucky enough to find hopperbird eggs. The females made their nests on the ground, and weren’t terribly adept at hiding them from view. If disturbed, they would hop away in an attempt to distract the enemy and protect their eggs. The birds themselves were a mottled brown color, about the size of a small turkey, with long multi-jointed legs. Some of the men wove large cages out of flexible vines, and were attempting to capture enough hopperbirds to begin raising them for food. The venture was still new, but it would be a nice addition to their diet if they succeeded.
The heat was truly becoming oppressive now, and Lovett, like everyone else, was drenched in sweat and eager to get back to the caves. Like the Silestri, the men wore only a loincloth, though in their case it covered both front and back. Clothes and shoes quickly wore out and were replaced with animal skins. Each of the men were lean, deeply tanned, and wore their long hair and beards either braided or gathered into a ponytail and held with a strip of leather. A few wore decorative necklaces or bracelets, made of animal hide or braided grasses, and ornamented with rocks, feathers or seedpods.
Lovett chuckled to himself as he considered what they looked like now, especially compared to their former life onboard ship. Well, that life was gone now, and it wasn’t likely to matter to anyone here. Their new life was focused on survival and making the most of what they had. Lovett appreciated each of his fellow crew members and counted them as his brothers and friends. Some of the men took lovers or partners, and he would be the last to discourage any bit of contentment they could find.
Finally approaching the foothills, they were met by sentries, given the all-clear sign of a thumbs up, and escorted to the primary entrance. It was a relatively short and easy climb up the rock face to a concealed opening, and the men sighed in immediate relief as cooler air flowed over their hot sweaty skin. Single file, they trudged down a well-worn path to the large shallow pool they christened the ‘bathtub’. A number of burning torches provided enough light to see what they were doing, and the men who remained behind gathered close to share news. The pool was fed by a deep spring, which flowed from an opening above their heads and split into two smaller streams of clear, cool water.
The stream on the right splashed into a small basin which never retained water, draining through the cave floor and out of sight. This was where the men got their fresh drinking water, and after some creative rearrangement of rocks, became their shower also. It was wide enough to hold two men at a time, and they lined up in pairs to rinse off the sweat and grime. From there it was only a few feet to the edge of the bathtub, which was filled by the water stream on the left. The pool was about three feet deep in most places, enough to sit or float comfortably, depending on how many people were using it at any given time. With less than forty in the work group, they would all be able to use the tub without bumping into someone at every turn.
The men were free to talk here, and they enjoyed sharing stories about what they saw while they were out. The others were busy preparing food, working on animal skins, replacing old catnip grass bedding, making torches, or cleaning out the latrine – a job no one enjoyed but everyone shared.
Lovett leaned back in the bathtub with the other men, eyes closed, seated on a smooth rock with another at his back. The water reached up to his neck, disturbed only by the moving bodies and the ripples of the waterfall behind them. The heat and sweat and stress were now forgotten for a while as he relaxed and listened to bits and pieces of conversation all around him. Before long he heard and felt the presence of someone settling into position next to him, and opened his eyes to find his second in command, Logan Osborne.
Osborne, a former navigation officer on Exploration’s bridge, was hand picked by Lovett for his current role. The men worked well together since the ship launched, and Lovett needed someone he could trust to carry out his orders or even replace him if necessary. He also happened to be a close friend and confidant, something every leader sorely needed. Osborne dunked himself below the surface of the water, rising slowly so he could relish the cool refreshment just a little longer. He moved back to his place next to Lovett and wiped the water from his eyes. Lovett looked over at him with a curious expression.
“Aren’t you still on duty?”
Osborne did a poor job of looking innocent.
“Yes, Sir. I needed to bring you a message. Cook says he finally figured out where the cave rats were getting in, and the boys just finished plu
gging up the hole. Shouldn’t be any more problems unless they find another way in. I say what we need is a good mouser, but we seem to be fresh out.”
Lovett gave him a dubious expression.
“I think you are playing hooky and just wanted to cool off, though you can tell cook I’m glad the problem is solved. Now get back to work before I assign you to latrine duty for a month.”
Osborne stood and gave Lovett a cheeky grin.
“Yes, Sir, Commander! Oh, and by the way, lunch is ready.”
The bathtub was emptied in record time as everyone scrambled to the mess hall. Lovett just shook his head and followed after the others.
The mess hall, often referred to as the ‘caveman cafe’, was simply an area set aside in the largest cave for their communal meals. There were no tables and chairs as such, only strategically placed rocks with relatively flat tops. Bundles of soft grass were used to protect almost bare bottoms from the cold stone floor. Like the rest of their hillside home, the walls held lit torches to provide light.
Exploration (Galactic Neighborhood Book 3) Page 3
