The Colony Ship Vanguard: The entire eight book series in one bundle

by John Thornton

  “Something else is coming,” Paul said.

  Lyudmila looked away from the ostriches and said, “That is more of a danger. Follow me away from here.” She kicked the flanks of Serko and the horse bolted away and trotted along the edge of the woods.

  Gretchen and Paul got their old mares moving as well, although at a somewhat slower pace. “What is it now?” Paul asked.

  “Those are bantengs,” Lyudmila stated as she gestured toward the next group of animals that was heading toward them. “The bantengs are usually very mellow. Those are terrified. When frightened they can injure the horses and may trample us. Since we moved quickly we will be out of their way. They are fleeing for the forest, like the ostriches did.”

  The bantengs reminded Paul of the hippos he had seen, but only in a rough way. The banteng had four legs, were a bit under two meters long, and about two and a half meters tall. Paul’s eyes were drawn to the horns on their heads. Some of the chestnut colored animals had short and tightly curved horns, while the bigger animals had longer horns which arced upwards. The base of those bigger horns were connected by a ridge across the top of the beast’s head.

  As the riders moved out of the way, the herd of bantengs crashed into the woods. Unlike the ostriches which did tend to follow the pathway in somewhat of a single file manner, these animals just plowed their way into the woods in wild abandon. They pushed down small saplings and stomped on underbrush in their haste to get away. Their legs were covered in off white colored fur which was seen as they moved from the cultivated fields to the woods.

  “They must weight eight hundred kilograms,” Gretchen said as she watched the heard.

  Paul was pointing his pistol at them, but had relaxed a bit since the bantengs were now moving away from where he sat on Queenie.

  At the end of the herd were some smaller animals which had a dark dorsal stripe and more pronounced white rumps and muzzles.

  “They have young with them,” Gretchen observed. “And some of these last adult ones are injured.”

  There were lash marks on the sides and backs of some of the slower bantengs. Paul looked back across the now ruined farmland. The clouds of dust and debris which had been kicked up obscured his view for a while. The town of Tula was just a blurry haze in the distance.

  “This is like the hippos, where Sibat and Oda the hunters were killed. The Jellies must have done this,” Paul said.

  “Then I will ride to Tula and break them like rotten eggs,” Lyudmila stated. She clicked her tongue and kicked Serko in the flanks. The horse raced away at a full gallop taking the beaten down path the herd of bantengs had made.

  “Wait!” Paul called.

  “Paul we must follow and help her,” Gretchen said.

  “Run right toward the Jellies? Really?” Paul asked.

  “Yes. She needs our help. We at least know something about them,” Gretchen said as she drew out her own pistol. “Come on Paul!”

  “Okay, I guess. Oh, I hate my life,” Paul replied, but he did urge Queenie forward.

  Neither Daisy nor Queenie broke into the extreme gallop that Lyudmila had gotten Serko into, but they did manage a canter which crossed the farmlands quickly. Paul had to holster his pistol in order to grab onto the saddle horn and reins. The rolling rhythm of the horse was enough that he felt in danger of falling, so he did hold firmly to the saddle and mane, tightly grip with his legs, and stayed on.

  The dirt, dust, and air were settling as they cantered toward Tula. Paul looked to find where Lyudmila was, but her image was getting smaller as she pulled ahead of them.

  “Those buildings do not look right,” Gretchen yelled over the top of the pounding hoof beats of the horses.

  “How do you know what is right on the Vanguard?” Paul asked. “Maybe they were made that way?”

  “I doubt it. Look at the rooflines. Those have been blasted apart. The permalloy is melted in some strange ways,” Gretchen said.

  Lyudmila had disappeared behind the buildings of Tula and was no longer visible.

  The cantering of Queenie and Daisy slowed down as they exited the once cultivated fields and approached the town. The buildings along this side of the town had once been two story structures, but the sides of some were completely missing, and the floor and interior features were now exposed. Broken parts of the houses were scattered around the lawns and sidewalks. Chunks of re-hardened permalloy were lying in piles where they had dripped off the buildings. Windows were missing and gaping holes were like broken teeth in a shattered smile.

  “Paul, I do not see any bodies. Where are the people?” Gretchen said as Daisy walked her around the rubble.

  “Where are the Jellies who did this?” Paul asked. He had drawn out his pistol again now that the horse was only walking. His eyes darted back and forth from one place in the ruins to another. “I do not see the purplish blue glow anywhere, but I know Jellies did this.”

  “I agree,” Gretchen replied. She too had her pistol out and was looking for the enemies. Locking her legs against the horse, she used her other hand to both hold the reins and activate the multiceiver. “Lyudmila? Lyudmila? We are here in Tula, but have lost you. Can you tell us how to get to your position?”

  There was only silence on the display.

  They rounded some more of the fragments of the buildings, and saw several automacubes in the street. The frames of the automacubes, one a white, and another blue, had burst apart. The drive wheels were missing or shredded. The wires, servos, and other apparatus from the internal workings of the automacubes were ripped from their chassis.

  “Gretchen, there are no bird or animal sounds. None at all. The silence here is weird. These biological habitats are always loud with noise. This quiet is troubling. Very troubling.”

  The horses slowed their paces, even though Paul and Gretchen urged them onward. They walked slowly and hesitantly down the street. At each crossroad, Paul and Gretchen looked at the intersection roads, and all that was seen was more ruin and destruction.

  “Paul, that looks like the river down a few blocks from here. This was a sizable town, I say maybe two hundred buildings, but all reduced to rubble now,” Gretchen reined her horse to head toward the river.

  “Do we really want to find the Jellies?” Paul asked.

  “I want to find Lyudmila, and she is looking for the Jellies. I will not leave that young woman alone in a place like this,” Gretchen said.

  “There is no life anywhere here,” Paul commented as he pointed to the torn apart trucks of trees that had once been in a courtyard or park-like setting. “The remains of those trees look frozen or burned in some way. The wood stuff just looks wrong.”

  A large building was located near the river. What it had once been was now unrecognizable. It had been melted down to the foundation in most places, and only a few fingers of permalloy stretched skyward. A sign was lying half way tipped onto the street. ‘Auditorium of Performing Arts’ was all that could be read of the much longer message on that sign.

  Queenie began to stomp her feet and toss her head. Daisy nickered in fear. Both horses set their ears back and pulled away from the direction Paul and Gretchen had expected to go.

  “Now is not the time for games. You will not rub my leg against that jagged permalloy!” Paul said and yanked on the reins.

  Queenie tossed her head up and reared back on her hind legs.

  Paul grabbed onto her braided mane, but did not fall or slide off.

  Daisy leaped sideways suddenly, nearly tossing Gretchen from the saddle. Gretchen held on with her strong legs and by gripping the saddle and braided mane, but the leap was forceful and unexpected.

  A ball of white came whizzing down and exploded right where Daisy had been standing. Fragments of cold and splinters of permalloy flew in all directions. None struck Gretchen as Daisy had gotten a wall between her and the detonation location.

  “Where did that come from?” Paul yelled as Queenie bolted in a different direction.

  Anot
her white ball blasted into the wall close to where Queenie had been. Again shards flew in all directions, but none struck.

  “Paul, these horses can sense the coming attacks. Let then run and just hold on!” Gretchen yelled back. She loosened the reins and commanded, “Take us out of here!”

  The horses were startled, but understood. They raced away from the direction of the river and the docks along it. Paul got a quick glimpse of the river and there was some bluish purple glow on it. “Jellies!” he yelled.

  Ears laid back, nostrils flaring, legs pounding, the old mares moved surprisingly fast. Paul and Gretchen just hung on. The horses wove in and out of the broken down buildings and rubble. Several more white balls exploded around them, but the horses were always a moment or two ahead of where the balls exploded.

  After the dizzying and tortuous run, Paul and Gretchen were both disoriented as to where they were in the town. The horses turned quickly around a building and slowed down to a walk. Their sides were heaving in and out as they tried to catch their breath. Sweat was dripping from under the saddle blankets and was caked up on the horses’ chests.

  “Paul? Are you okay?” Gretchen asked.

  “I am not dead. I did not fall off. My butt may never be the same. Is that okay?” Paul asked sarcastically. His fingers were white as he gripped the saddle horn and horse’s mane. The reins were in his hand as well, but were flopping loose as they hung to the side of Queenie’s neck.

  “I assume we are a safe distance away, or the horses would still be running,” Gretchen exclaimed. She patted Daisy’s neck. “Thank you for saving me.” Gretchen’s hand came back moist with horse sweat.

  Stepping past a fallen wall and the rubble of three stacked together automacubes, they saw that Lyudmila and Serko were hunkered in behind the half remaining corner of a building. Serko was also covered in sweat and breathing hard.

  “You are alive!” Gretchen erupted. “I thought you were lost.”

  “No. Serko and I surveyed the town,” Lyudmila said. “Nothing much is untouched. Every building has been devastated to some degree. Those Jellie things are in the river, about a half dozen of them. I have never seen water levels so low in the river. There are mud slicks along the riverbed, and that is where I saw those Jellies. They were dug down into the muddy banks of what used to be the river’s edge. There is also a very large purple bag floating in the river. It has a light inside of it which is glowing and throbbing. I saw the bodies inside that great bag, the townspeople. They are all dead. It is worse than I imagined. Worse than I could imagine.”

  “So, we can ride away now,” Paul said. “We know there is no reason to stay here.”

  “Go if you must. I will stay and confront these things. I will smash them like the rotten eggs they are,” Lyudmila said in a slow and deliberate manner. She struck her fist into the palm of her other hand.

  “Paul we are staying here and helping her to fight back,” Gretchen said firmly.

  Paul looked in perplexity at Gretchen and Lyudmila. “These are the Jellies! Like six or more of them! There are only three of us, and those aliens have already destroyed this entire town. How many people were here?”

  “Tula had about eight hundred residents in the town, and about one hundred people living with a kilometer or so,” Lyudmila replied. “Penza is about the same size.”

  “Was that bag you saw in the river big enough to hold everyone from the town?” Gretchen asked carefully. “If those animals we saw running away so fast could escape, so could some of the people, right?”

  “Perhaps,” Lyudmila responded after a moment’s consideration. “I have never seen so many dead people before. So yes, some may have escaped. I must teach these Jellie monsters that they cannot do this to my people. I will ride Serko around until I find a proper place to launch an attack. Now I go to smash these rotten eggs, and avenge my father.” She mounted the horse.

  “This is craziness,” Paul said. “Gretchen, those aliens are vicious, at least the horse animals had some sense to avoid the attacks when they came. Why would we ever go toward the enemies?”

  Lyudmila pulled the L-ROD off her back and adjusted the weapon while she sat in the saddle. “I have hunted with my father. We have taken down rogue bear, wild boar, and once even a tiger that had killed a child. These Jellies will suffer the same fate. I just need to locate the proper perch from which to strike.”

  “That weapon allowed you to see at night, correct?” Gretchen said. “With those honey badger animals. We once had an encounter with the Jellies at night, and that seemed to be to our advantage.”

  “Also, these horse animals are exhausted. We need to find a place to rest and recover before walking them to death,” Paul said. “Maybe some other people or automacubes will come and fight these Jellies? We should contact Brinley.”

  Paul pulled out his multiceiver and activated the control for linking to Brinley.

  “This is the midshipman overseeing this area,” the unexpected voice came on. He matched the other midshipmen they had encountered before. He had crisp, short black hair, a medium and clear complexion, and round brown eyes. His uniform was of dark blue with gold trim and red epaulets on his shoulders.

  Paul was unsure how to respond, and shut down the multiceiver. “I must have mistakenly activated the wrong connection.” He tried the link to Brinley again. He looked carefully to make sure he touched the correct control.

  “This is the midshipman overseeing this area, I am recording your location,” the midshipman replied. “Connections between the habitats are not allowed. How may I assist you?”

  Paul shut down the multiceiver. “Gretchen? I cannot connect to Brinley. I thought Larissa said something about automacubes coming here?”

  “Paul, the CPO apparently is intercepting the connections to Larissa and Brinley,” Gretchen replied. “I tried to contact Larissa when I saw the devastation of Tula. I too only got the midshipman.”

  “You did not tell me that,” Paul complained. “Why?”

  “I did not want you to worry even more,” Gretchen answered. “I was also wondering if the security automacubes Larissa was sending had arrived.”

  “Did you see the fate of the automacubes of Tula?” Lyudmila interrupted. “I saw many that were just broken hulks. This fight is mine. If it is going to be, it is up to me. However, you do make a point about our horses being worn out. And, if I can strike at these things better in the dark, perhaps waiting is required. My father has told me, ‘the best trap is one that is well laid out and planned’ so I will wait and plan.”

  They rode the horses around the corpse of the town of Tula. The horses could perceive from the Jellies at the riverside when they came into some instinctive range. Staying outside of that distance, the horses did not hesitate to follow the directions of the riders, but they balked when getting too close. There were no more of the white ball attacks and no signs of the Jellies anywhere else except for in the riverbank.

  “I think the horses can sense the Jellies from a longer way apart, than the Jellies can sense us,” Gretchen said. “That is just a guess, but based on the observations I see. The Jellies attacked us when we got too close, but now the horses know, somehow, what that boundary is.”

  The sky tube began to grow dim, and the light was fading. Usually at dust there would be a flurry of animal, bird, and insect activity. Here is Tula there was none of that, even though the night was coming on.

  “All day long and no rain. That does not happen on rain day,” Lyudmila said. “And the river sinking low and running out of water. Tonight is moon night, but I wonder if that will happen? It is so strange to not have rain day.”

  It was nearly dark when Lyudmila found the place she was looking for. The sky tube overhead was dim and cast a silvery glow across the habitat known as the woods. The shadows and variations of gray in the ruined town of Tula were tremendous. No lights came on in any of the buildings around them, which just confirmed the dead and lifeless milieu which had settled
on the town.

  “That is where I will begin to fight back,” she said and pointed at the two story building. “Now we let the horses find their own place to rest.”

  The three people dismounted. Lyudmila tied the reins of each horse to its own saddle, loosely but securely. Paul watched as the three horses strolled away down the rubble strewn road, between the destroyed buildings.

  “When will they run off?” Paul asked.

  “They may not run, unless they are threatened,” Lyudmila answered.

  “So will they survive?” Paul asked. “Maybe we should have kept them here. They did allow us to move faster than walking, even though I am stiff and sore from the ride. They also knew where the Jellies were and were not, so why not keep them with us.”

  “They will take care of themselves, and the mares will probably lead Serko back to the Trading Post. It is not fair to put them at risk anymore. Now is the time to be the hunter, and to do that we must be very quiet.”