by Thomas Stone
His heart raced as he dove for cover barely in time to avoid a burst of yellow light that seared the ground behind him. He hit the turf and rolled. Another shot grazed the armor plating atop his shoulder. Harry smelled the burning tracer and ducked behind the tree trunk.
Without another thought, he got to his feet and ran, keeping the tree trunk between himself and the direction of the last shot. He ran several hundred yards before he finally pulled up behind a mammoth fallen tree.
Light flashed through the trees but didn't appear to be headed his way although they didn't appear to be going away either. There was no sign of Fagen or Parker.
The tree was partially hollowed out and offered some kind of cover so Harry crawled inside. From rotted holes he watched the lights dancing in the trees. To his relief, they never came his way. In the distance he heard a series of shotgun blasts, then nothing.
The lights went out and all was quiet. Harry waited and watched as morning broke through the canopy. For a long time, he waited and looked for signs of either the aliens or his companions. Nothing moved.
Chapter 28
Kathleen lay upon a soft, fluffy material in a cozy darkness. She had no idea how long she'd been there. She felt rested but knew it would be easy to drop back to sleep. She wondered where was and opened her eyes.
There was little to see but what she saw she didn't like. A dull light passed through a membranous material over her head. Enclosed in a comfortable, although tiny cell, she pushed against a padded ceiling that was but a foot from her face. It gave way like rubber but snapping back and re-forming when she withdrew the pressure. With waves of claustrophobia washing over her, she tried again and managed to poke a hole through the material.
Peeping from the hole, she saw she was in a small room, or maybe the end of a tube-shaped corridor. There were other cells next to hers. The air was musky and didn't smell particularly good.
She stuck a finger in the opening and pulled. The membrane stretched and started to tear. Once started, it was easy to pull a flap loose large enough for her to squirm her way out.
The other cells held things as well. She bent close to one and tried to see. Something underneath moved and Kathleen backed away. Her head spun and suddenly weak at the knees, she sank to the floor. With dawning realization, it came to her that, somehow, the aliens had drugged her.
She began to crawl up the tunnel. Light came from recessed areas in the ceiling. To her right, another small chamber opened up. It looked just like the one she'd left except this one had a couple of empty cells. She continued on her way.
She tried to remember what had happened, but everything after she was grabbed remained a blank. Although she didn't know for sure, she assumed she was still inside the alien structure.
Kathleen was afraid but not panicked. The young woman was blessed with an ability to stay calm even in the most trying situations. And this was certainly one of those. Her sense of humor didn't hurt her either. First, she was abducted by primitives on an alien world, then her clothes were taken away, then she was taken out in the night and left to wander. Now she was being held captive by the first advanced aliens to be discovered by humankind. And she had no idea why. Instead of considering herself to be in a serious situation, she was amused. It was almost fun. Still, she had to be careful. Perhaps she could find a way to escape. Or maybe she would discover she didn't need to escape, maybe the aliens would help her. After all, they were intelligent.
She stopped at a corner and peeked around the edge. Two small creatures leaned over an examining table and fussed with whatever lay on top. They were unaware of Kathleen and she took the opportunity to get a good look at them.
They were small, between four and five feet tall, and humanoid in the sense they had two arms and two legs. After that, any resemblance to humans was a stretch. Their skin was a wrinkled pale grey and they wore identical grey jumpers that covered them from neck to ankle. They appeared to not wear shoes and Kathleen saw that their feet ended in three thick toes. Claws protruded from the end of each toe.
They didn't appear to be particularly ferocious. They were simply too feeble looking to offer much of a physical threat. Away from the examining table, she saw the environment suits. Unlike the aliens, the suits did look dangerous. They were large and metallic with three pronged, pointed legs and two smaller mechanical arms. They hung limply, suspended from the ceiling.
There didn't seem to be a way out, at least one she could readily recognize. The air was damp and humid and it was difficult to breathe, as if the oxygen was thin. Foul odors tainted the air. Kathleen recognized the smell of blood.
She crawled from the tunnel and edged along the wall. There were machines and tubes of various sizes running out of walls, ceiling, and floor; their purpose a total mystery. The aliens busied themselves with their specimen, an animal of some kind, presumably picked from the forest. Hoses filled with running fluids wound their way out of the animal's abdomen and into an apparatus attached to the far wall. Needles protruded from places in the animal's cranium where the aliens had attached fine wires that ran up to the ceiling. Kathleen wondered if she was in line for a similar fate.
Wires and cables of various sizes ran across the floor. Some went to equipment and some went to the walls. Kathleen carefully stepped over a cable and squatted beside a machine set against the wall. It was warm and vibrated a little.
The aliens finished with their specimen. As Kathleen watched, they selected two tubes that dangled from the ceiling and began to spray a white, fibrous substance upon the animal. In seconds, it was fully cocooned.
One of the aliens took the animal, wrapped in its cocoon, and placed it against what Kathleen thought was simply a blank wall. As she watched, the wall seemed to fracture, then to split and pucker until the undulating sides managed to pull the cocoon inside a hidden compartment. Afterwards, the wall resumed its previous appearance.
The other alien walked away from the table to a beach ball-sized bulb that dangled from the ceiling. He looked at the bulb closely, then, with the tip of one its three fingers, it pierced the membrane and pulled until the tear was three or four inches long. A black furry head popped out and took a quick look around.
Shifting its beady eyes, it sniffed at the air and became agitated. It squirmed out of its nest and jumped onto the shoulder of the alien. From there, it scanned the room until it locked eyes with Kathleen.
Leaping from the alien's shoulder, it flew across the room and landed atop the machine behind which Kathleen hid. The flying rat chattered excitedly as it looked down at her.
Both aliens saw Kathleen at the same time and moved in from two directions. There was no escape and she felt faint again.
"Leave me alone," she screamed as they took her by the wrists and ankles. "Let me down!"
Hefting the feebly struggling woman between them, the two aliens lifted her to the examining table. A beam of light hit her as she touched the table and it seemed as if all the air was sucked from her. Just before she passed out, she saw one of the extraterrestrials peering at her as he took one of the hanging tubes in a wrinkled, three-fingered hand and the fibrous cocoon substance begin to fall over her like snow.
*
Grandfather stumbled three times before he realized he was too tired to go on. It was difficult for him to climb the trees anymore so he stayed to the old, worn paths. His weariness had crept up on him and caught him unexpectedly. Now, before he could rest, he had to find a suitable tree, one that wasn't too difficult to climb.
He looked around and spotted exactly what he had in mind. A short distance away, a thick branch curved to the forest floor. He could walk up the natural ramp and find a place to nap.
How long had it been since he’d left the cave? Not so long, he admitted. Age had taken away the vigor of youth and the old Bedoran relinquished it stubbornly. Still, his body told him it was time to rest.
He wouldn't be out in the forest if it weren't for his grandsons. When he and Kretin ha
d returned from taking the female to the forest, Arai was missing. A few hours later, Kretin was gone. The old man instinctively knew Kretin had gone looking for his younger brother. By mid-afternoon, neither had returned and, being the only other male of age, the task fell upon him to search for them.
He walked to the tree branch and stepped upon the limb. Before going any farther, he took a good look around to ensure nothing was watching, then shuffled up the limb. Grandfather curled up in a large crook of the tree and went to sleep.
He awoke before dawn to the sound of thunder in the distance. No, it wasn't thunder, he realized as he turned an ear to the sound. Loud and frightening, but not thunder. Well, in any case, it was time to get going again. The deep rumble had passed, but he was sure of the direction, and when he climbed back down to the ground, that was the way he went.
*
The computer aboard the Magellan was state of the art. It was fast and powerful and, with the proper stimulation from a knowledgeable user, it could perform astounding feats of computation. Blane was the quintessential computer user. The implants in his head allowed him to access data channels and process a digital stream nearly as fast as the computer could feed it to him. But still it wasn't enough.
Years of being plugged in had trained his mind to hunger for and demand information. Yet he had discovered that the digital stimulation still lacked something of what he craved. It was so simple he had a hard time coming around to the idea, but when he finally accepted it, he knew that there was no substitute for intelligent companionship. The problem was, people communicated slowly, and people lied, and even Blane would admit, he was certainly anti-social. Like any other coping anti-social, these were problems he’d learned to live with. Computers satisfied his need for companionship to a good degree but there was still a part of him that was only satisfied by his electronic connection to a handful of trusted friends. Kathleen had been one of these.
Over time, Blane had grown dependent on his Kathleen's thoughts. They provided just the right amount of chaotic stimulus to balance the beautiful logic of his beloved computers. He and the young woman had shared adventures in cyberspace and had helped one another in both school and in professional life. They were close. Not in a sexual way either: Blane had never entertained the thought of having sex with the woman. She was beautiful, indeed, but Blane's sexual needs were oriented toward obscure fantasies, and even these encounters were fulfilled in cyberspace. The thought of sharing such an intimate act with another human being made Blane shudder. Cyberspace supplied his needs.
With a shaking hand, he reached for the cable that ran to the laboratory computer and plugged it into the back of his head. Using the network control program, he piggy-backed the lab computer onto the powerful ship's computer. The extra processing power helped somewhat but the hunger remained.
At first, he thought it was the same feeling of urgency and abandonment he had felt when he learned he could no longer depend on transmissions from Kathleen. For a time, the hunger gripped him and washed over him in waves. He held the sides of the chair until his knuckles turned white. Beads of sweat popped out along his brow. For a moment, he lost control of the flow of data and his head felt as if it was being overloaded.
His anxiety grew to an almost intolerable level before he finally managed to gain control his thoughts. While he continued to monitor the alien ship and the other telemetry functions aboard the Magellan, he opened the files that held the recordings of his encounter with the alien computer and browsed the data.
Again, Blane marveled at the complexity and efficiency of the alien machine. If it was a machine. He recalled that in the few, brief moments he was connected to the alien computer, he had acquired the distinct feeling that the thing was alive. Certainly, its network, processing power, and efficiency were far beyond anything he'd seen before. The thing was complex but simple in its operation. Its composition was along the lines of a neural network, but a neural network based on something wholly different from anything humanity had to offer.
Blane also knew that everything the survey team wanted to know was stored in the alien computer. He wished, no, he yearned for the opportunity to re-establish his data link and to allow his thoughts to wander through the alien net. What wonders he would find.
He knew that somehow he had to find a way to re-establish the link.
A call from the intercom interrupted his thoughts.
"Blane? You still down there?" Nadine's voice sounded patronizing.
He reached over and pressed the call button. He knew she could see the computer activity.
"Yes, I'm here."
"Just checking. Everything all right? You feeling okay?"
He pressed the call button again. "I'm not frothing at the mouth or anything, if that's what you mean." There was a pause at the other end. Finally, Nadine's voice came through again.
"All right, Bart, just checking."
On the bridge, the black woman turned to a relaxed Bonner. "He's got his head in the computers."
"So what's new?"
"Have you ever tried it, Bill?
His expression showed denial. "What do you mean? Cybersex? Me?"
"Oh c'mon, everybody's tried it by now."
"No, not me. How about you?"
Nadine flashed her teeth and laughed.
"You have, haven't you?" Bonner sat upright and looked at her. "What's it like?"
She laughed again. "I didn't say I had."
"But I can tell you have. "Come on, tell me what it's like."
"Well," she said and cocked her head, "I guess it was like being an actor in a cartoon."
"Doesn't sound too satisfying."
"No," she said, "I prefer the real thing." She unstrapped herself from her seat and floated over to Bonner. She faced him and positioned herself on his lap. "Don't you?"
"Oh yeah," he said. "Hold that thought. Lemme check the rad levels."
Nadine didn't bother to get up. Bonner leaned across her and punched commands into his keyboard. She didn't bother to look. Instead she asked him what the display said.
"Still going up."
Alarmed, she shifted her position.
"How far can we let it go without doing something?"
Bonner looked at his watch. "If we don't hear something from Fagen in another hour, I think we should prepare to bug out."
"Oh, yes," Nadine said and wrapped her strong arms around the engineer's neck, "that's what I wanted to hear."
Chapter 29
Something stuck Harry in the side. He'd felt it for some time but was just now getting uncomfortable with it. It was a knot on the inside of the log. The dawning light was sufficient to allow him to peer from his cubbyhole and scan the surrounding forest. All was quiet. He slipped out of the hollow log and crouched as he took a good look in all directions.
Nothing moved except for the occasional breeze passing through the upper branches. He got up and began walking back toward the tree where he had spent half the night. It wasn't far and he identified it easily by the deep, clean burns in the bark.
He approached it warily, but there was no need. No one was there. No sign of anyone. On the opposite side he found one of the helmets. It was crushed and useless. There were no spent cartridges. Harry was sure he'd heard shots being fired.
As he walked over the site, he tried to imagine what had happened. He could see where the first alien had appeared and where it had fired and missed. Marks on the ground and the tree attested to the hot beam of the laser weapon.
Beam weapons required a lot of power. Power storage for such devices was bulky and heavy, quite difficult to lug about. That's why Fagen had left theirs back at the shuttle. Even so, the energy drain was so great they could only fire the weapon in bursts. Before the next shot could be fired, the system had to recycle.
The weapon he'd seen last night didn't have any of those characteristics. It fired a varied beam in broad strokes several times within a short span. But still, it had missed. That was odd.
Such impressive technology would surely have processor-guided aiming devices. Harry should have been hit, but he wasn't. It was odd.
He walked under the branch Fagen had used for his escape and found the place where he'd jumped to the ground. From there, it looked as though he had run to another tree. Sure enough, when Harry got there, he found the shell casings. There was still no sign of Fagen or Parker or anything to indicate where they'd gone.
If they escaped the aliens, Harry reasoned, they would continue to press on to the shuttle. Suddenly afraid he might be left stranded, Harry set out to find the craft.
He knew it wasn't far. The armor he wore was uncomfortable and he considered removing it, but decided against it while he was still lost in the forest. It would feel good to get back to the shuttle and remove the bulky suit.
Harry picked his way between the trees, occasionally stopping to scan the forest ahead. He walked for forty minutes without seeing anything. By then, he began looking ahead for the clearing that held the shuttle. He didn't see it, so he continued his course for another thirty minutes. By then, he realized he was lost.
*
One hundred yards from the clearing, Fagen and the doctor sat behind the cover of a mammoth tree trunk. They had been there for a little under an hour, watching for movement and signs of the aliens. There was nothing to indicate the aliens had discovered the shuttle.
"Let's just make a run for it," Parker suggested.
Fagen didn't take his eyes from the clearing and didn't reply.
"How long are we going to wait?"
"Until I'm satisfied the shuttle's not being watched."
"Edward," Parker said, exasperated, "we've been here an hour and haven't seen anything. We need to check in with Bonner and Nadine."
"All right, all right. Stay here while I check things out." Fagen rose and worked his way closer to the shuttle. Parker watched as the commander approached the vehicle.
