Glitch Mitchell and the Unseen Planet

by Philip Harris

  “We could go back,” said Glitch. “Maybe we missed a side corridor.”

  Anderson shook her head. “We didn’t. With the gateway gone, this is the only way out, and we don’t want to stay in these caves any longer than we need to.”

  As if the cave were emphasizing the point, the floor gave a brief shudder and rumbled.

  “What was that?” asked Glitch.

  “An earthquake. The first party noticed them when they came through.”

  Glitch eyed the rock above them. “So this place might collapse?”

  Anderson opened up her backpack and pulled out a length of metal wire with a smooth cylinder attached to one end. She released a catch, and three curved metal arms popped out with a loud click.

  “Is that what I think it is?” said Glitch.

  “If you think it’s a grappling hook, yes.”

  “It looks a bit… fragile.”

  “Looks can be deceptive. It’s a titanium-molybdenum alloy. It’s light but very strong. More than enough to carry our weight.”

  Anderson unrolled the loop, coiling it on the floor so that it would flow freely. She told Glitch to hold the end without the grappling hook. Terrified he’d drop it and lose the wire, he gripped it with both hands until his knuckles turned white.

  Getting the hook across the chasm was relatively easy, but it took Anderson three attempts to wedge it behind a cluster of rocks on the other side. She pulled on the wire, leaning back with all her weight. The hook shifted slightly but held firm. She pulled a titanium stake from her backpack and secured the other end of the line to their side of the gap.

  Glitch stared at the remarkably flimsy-looking wire. It didn’t look safe.

  “You’ll need some gloves,” said Captain Anderson. “To save your hands. There’s a pair in your backpack. Have you ever crawled along a rope before?”

  Glitch swung his pack off his back and rummaged around for the gloves. “No.”

  “It’s not hard, but you need to hook your legs together over the wire and move as quickly as you can so your arms don’t get too tired.”

  Glitch looked at the wire, trying not to look as terrified as he felt.

  “Come on,” said Anderson. “You first.”

  Glitch made a great show of examining the zipper and pockets on his backpack, checking and rechecking to make sure everything was secure. Then he pulled on his leather gloves, walked to the ledge, and knelt. He was thankful he had what his sister called a “maddeningly fast metabolism” and didn’t weigh much. But still, the wire looked very thin and the chasm very wide. What worried him even more, though, was how he’d get on, and off, the wire.

  Anderson knelt beside him. “It’ll be better if you don’t drag it out,” she said quietly.

  Glitch nodded and took a deep breath. Feet first seemed like the easiest way to travel. It took him a couple of attempts to settle on a strategy for getting onto the wire. In the end, he sat on the edge of the rock, wrapped his legs around the wire, and scooted along.

  His legs slipped over the edge, and he slid awkwardly out into open air. The wire sagged, and his stomach flipped over as he felt the depths below pulling at him. He closed his eyes and gritted his teeth. He waited until both he and the wire had stopped swinging and he’d regained control of his stomach before opening his eyes and starting across.

  He was smart enough not to look down. The opening scenes of Stallone’s Cliffhanger had taught him what happened to people who did that. The wire wobbled and shook as he slid along, but he made good progress.

  Getting off the wire wasn’t as easy.

  By the time he’d reached the far side of the gap, his arms and legs were burning, and he was grateful for the leather gloves. Even with them, he could feel the thin wire digging into his soft programmer’s hands.

  The best strategy for getting back to the safety of solid ground, he decided, was to transfer from the wire to the craggy cliff face. He’d spent a couple of hours on a climbing wall as part of a tedious team-building exercise a few years back, and he saw plenty of hand and footholds he could use. But that meant hanging from the wire while he found a safe place to put his feet. He wasn’t sure how long he could manage that.

  Glitch got as close to the end of the wire as he could, then he unhooked his legs. For a few terrifying seconds, he thought he was too far away, but the tips of his toes touched rock. He found just enough purchase to take some of his weight and allow him to slide farther along the wire. Once he’d found more secure footholds and was as sure as he could be that he wouldn’t fall, he reached out with one hand and grabbed a likely looking chunk of rock. He pulled on it a couple of times to make sure it was solid, then he chose a second handhold and let go of the wire.

  He clung to the rock face for a few seconds, trying to convince himself he wasn’t really on some sort of alien planet. He was just hanging a few feet above a soft foam mat in the Raleigh Mall with his safety harness firmly attached to the ceiling. When his right foot slipped, sending lumps of rock cascading into the chasm, he gave up trying to fool himself and clambered up the rock face. By the time he was lying on solid ground, staring at the ceiling, his hands were slick with sweat and his heart was hammering. He half expected it to do a John Hurt and burst out of his chest.

  “Well done,” called Captain Anderson. “I’m coming over.”

  Presumably thanks to her Air Force training, Captain Anderson swung confidently onto the wire and moved smoothly along it. Glitch watched her make her way across like a particularly sprightly caterpillar crawling along the underside of a branch. She made good progress, but as she reached the halfway mark, there was another quiet rumble and the ground shook. The movement lasted longer than before, and Glitch found himself clutching at the ground. Dust drifted down from the ceiling.

  The wire vibrated, threatening to shake Anderson free. The grappling hook shifted as part of the rock it was jammed against gave way.

  “Captain… errm… Scarlett, I think you’d better get moving,” Glitch said. “I don’t know how much longer that grappling hook will hold out.”

  Anderson answered by picking up her pace. A few seconds later, another even bigger quake hit. Dust and rock fragments fell from the ceiling, and a sliver of the wall broke away and crashed into the chasm, taking a chunk of the ledge with it.

  Glitch looked at the grappling hook. The outcrop was breaking apart. All that was left was a solitary chunk of rock sticking up from the ground like a splintered tooth, and the grappling hook had caught against it. It looked secure as long as the rock didn’t break. Slowly, the quake died away.

  The grappling hook held, and Glitch let out a sigh of relief. “The line’s still okay, but hurry.”

  As Anderson dragged herself forward again, there was a loud crack, the sound of shattering rock. The metal stake on the opposite side of the cave tore itself out of the ground.

  The wire gave way, and Anderson fell.

  CHAPTER THREE

  Chasm of Catastrophe

  Glitch finds himself trapped inside an unstable cave system with Air Force Captain Scarlett Anderson. With their only way home destroyed, they begin searching for Doctor Zheng, the head of the project that discovered the gateway and hostage of a man known only as John Smith. As Glitch and the captain search for her, they find their route blocked by a deep chasm. Using a metal line, Glitch successfully gets across, but as Anderson follows him, an earthquake hits.

  Glitch looked at the grappling hook. The rock it was wedged against had broken apart. All that was left was a solitary chunk sticking up from the ground like a splintered tooth. The grappling hook looked secure as long as the rock didn’t break. Slowly, the quake died away.

  The grappling hook held, and Glitch let out a sigh of relief. “The line’s still okay, but hurry.”

  As Anderson dragged herself along the wire, there was a loud crack, the sound of shattering rock, and the metal stake on the opposite side of the chasm ripped itself out of the ground.

  The
wire gave way, and Anderson fell.

  Glitch watched in horror as Captain Anderson slammed into the cliff face with a grunt. The impact jarred her hands free. She slipped. Anderson clutched at the metal lifeline, but she was falling too fast. The wire hummed through her leather gloves, and the friction slowed her descent a little but not enough to stop her. One of her feet caught on a rocky outcrop. The impact twisted her sideways, her hands came away from the wire, and she was free-falling.

  “Captain!” screamed Glitch.

  Anderson’s eyes met his. Where Glitch had expected fear, he saw only determination.

  When Anderson reached the end of the wire, she grabbed at the remains of the metal stake. Glitch held his breath as her fingers wrapped around it. The wire snapped tight. Glitch had visions of Anderson’s arms popping free of their sockets. She yelled in pain, but her arms remained attached to her body.

  Anderson ducked her head out of the way as she hit the wall again. This time she held on. The wire swung, spinning her around until she managed to get a foothold on the wall.

  Glitch let out his breath. “Are you okay?”

  “It’s all good,” shouted Anderson.

  “Hold on!” Glitch muttered to himself as he ran to the grappling hook, “What else is she going to do?” The hook looked secure enough—as long as there weren’t any more earthquakes. He called down to Anderson, “I can try to pull you up.”

  There was a low-pitched rumble from somewhere deep below them, and the ground shuddered.

  “Okay,” said Anderson, although her tone made it clear she didn’t hold out much hope.

  She was right. Glitch managed to pull the wire upward a few inches, but his hands kept slipping. He was more likely to slide it sideways and dislodge the grappling hook than pull the captain to safety. After a handful of attempts, he called to her, “I think it would be better if you climbed up. If you can.”

  “That’s what I was thinking.”

  Anderson examined the cliff wall for a moment then grabbed the nearest rock with one hand. She pulled at it, testing its strength. In one fluid movement, she let go of the wire and grabbed another handhold.

  Glitch watched helplessly as Anderson made the ascent. The rock was rough, with plenty of places for her to hold on, but still the climb was slow. Anderson stopped to test every handhold before she put her weight on it, and with good reason. Several times the rock crumbled and broke away as soon as she pulled at it.

  Anderson was twenty feet from the top of the cliff when the next quake hit. The ground vibrated beneath Glitch, and he found himself clutching at the ground again. A few chunks of rock broke free from the roof and bounced into the darkness. One of them careened off the cliff near Anderson’s head, and she yelled.

  As the quake died away, Anderson pulled herself up to the next handhold, but as she lifted her foot to move to a narrow ledge sticking out of the cliff, the handhold broke apart. She slipped, her feet flailing in mid-air until they found purchase again. She clutched at the rock, grabbing another handhold. It crumbled slightly but held.

  Glitch was more than a little relieved when Anderson finally reached the top of the ledge. He helped her onto solid ground, then he stood back, wondering what to do next.

  Anderson lay on her back, her breathing heavy. Eventually, she managed a smile. “That was fun.” The ground shuddered again. “We should get away from the ledge.”

  Glitch moved toward her, but she was up before he could work out how to help. She recovered the wire, unhooked the grapple, coiled it up, and replaced it in her backpack. There was only one way off the ledge—another tunnel. As they walked toward it, the ground gave a slight shudder, one last aftershock to send them on their way.

  The new passage tunnel was bigger than its twin—at least twice as wide and almost as high. The walls were scarred and chipped, but the damage had been done in bigger, broader strokes. Glitch ran his fingers over the wall. Maybe whatever had drilled or clawed out the tunnel on this side of the chasm was bigger.

  They walked in silence for about ten minutes before they reached a junction. The tunnel they were in turned right, but two smaller passages wound off to the left like tributaries feeding a river. They stuck to the larger of the three routes, but a few hundred feet later, it split again. This time, there was no obvious main path.

  Glitch flicked his flashlight down the tunnels, right then left. The first seemed empty, but as the light drove away the shadows in the second, he thought he saw something move across the rock wall. He didn’t mention it to Anderson—he was almost sure he’d imagined it, and he didn’t want to sound like a frightened child. Still, he wasn’t happy when Anderson scratched an arrow into the wall and led them down the left-hand tunnel.

  “Why left?” he asked.

  “My dad always told me that if I wasn’t sure which direction to take, left would never let me down.”

  Glitch pondered that for a moment, not really sure what it meant. In the end, he settled for a slight shrug and followed Anderson. As Glitch hurried to catch up, his flashlight caught the edge of something moving across the wall. “Did you see that?”

  Anderson opened her mouth to reply then froze, grabbing Glitch’s shoulder. “Don’t move.”

  She swept her flashlight across the wall. It was moving. Hundreds, maybe even thousands of bulbous red slugs scurried across the wall, chased away by the light. Their skin was so close to the color of the surrounding rock that the wall itself seemed alive. Glitch had seen slugs like that in the forests near his home, but whereas those had dragged themselves slowly across rocks and gravel paths, these creatures moved quickly, more like cockroaches than slugs.

  Something dropped from the ceiling, flashing past a few inches from Glitch’s face. He raised his flashlight. The ceiling was covered with slugs writhing and sliding over each other. As he watched, another of the creatures dropped from the ceiling. Then a third. That one landed on his hand. He felt a burning sensation, and he yelped, jerking his hand violently to the right and sending the creature arcing into the wall. There was a broad red welt across the back of his hand, and it already itched.

  “Come on,” said Anderson, pulling Glitch backward.

  He didn’t need more encouragement. They backed away as more and more of the creatures fell. The slug-things scattered when they hit the floor, slithering off in all directions, but far too many were advancing toward Glitch and Anderson. They turned and ran, rushing back along the tunnel until the slugs were out of sight.

  Glitch looked warily at his hand. The red line seemed to have darkened, and he felt as if thousands of ants, all of which had tiny light sabers attached to their feet, were crawling over his hand. He waved his other hand over the mark, hoping the mere proximity of it would ease some of his discomfort. It didn’t, and he had to pull his hand back before he succumbed to the intense desire to claw at it.

  “Don’t think about it,” said Anderson, sounding suspiciously like his mother. “It will only itch more.”

  She swung her pack off her back, unzipped the front pocket, and took out a small red bag marked with a white cross. She flipped it open, retrieved a small metal cylinder slightly larger than a lipstick, and handed it to him. “Spray it with this—it might help.”

  It took Glitch a couple of attempts to find the tiny opening on the canister because he was holding it upside down. He turned it the right way up, aimed it at his hand, and pressed the top. A fine mist coated the back of his hand, and he sighed with relief as the cool spray washed away the itching sensation.

  Glitch offered Anderson the spray. “Thank you.”

  “Keep it. There’s another one in your pack if you need more.”

  Glitch slipped the tube into his pocket. He imagined he could already feel the ants returning. At least, he hoped he was only imagining it.

  They retraced their steps, and when they got back to the junction, Anderson scratched out the mark she’d made on the wall. She drew another arrow, this time pointing right. “Apparently
my dad didn’t know as much as he thought he did.”

  “Was he in the Air Force too?”

  “No, he was a fireman.”

  “Oh, cool. I always wanted to be a fireman. I liked hoses when I was a kid.”

  Anderson pressed her lips together in an attempt to stop herself from laughing. She failed and burst into a deep, husky laugh that echoed off the walls. Glitch liked the sound of it. It was a warm laugh, uninhibited despite their predicament.

  Then he realized why she was laughing, and he blushed. “I mean… I liked playing—” He shut his mouth before he could dig himself any deeper.

  Eventually, Anderson wiped away a tear and shook her head slowly. “I’m sorry, Dw—Glitch.”

  He smiled, hoping to give Anderson the impression he was self-confident enough to be able to laugh at himself. “Don’t worry about it.”

  At least her laughter proved she had a sense of humor. And she’d liked his T-shirt. Unless that had been sarcasm, of course.

  “Come on,” said Anderson, shaking her head.

  They continued on. A few minutes later, the tunnel opened up into a large cave. Anderson raised her hand, fist clenched, and stopped. Glitch was busy watching the ceiling for more slugs, and he almost ran into her before he realized what she meant.

  The cave was much bigger than the one they’d arrived in. Hundreds of spheres lined the walls. Some were slightly bigger than a beach ball, while others were the size of Glitch’s fist. They glowed, casting a soft, phosphorescent blue light across the room. The floor was dark brown, almost black, and it was dirt rather than red rock. Scattered around the room were a dozen mounds of dirt, like molehills, but each was a foot high and at least three feet across. The air was thick with an ammonia smell, and there were dark patches in the dirt around the edges of the room. There was no sign of whatever had made the mounds.