by Isaac Hooke
I stretched my arms. It felt good to step beyond the confines of the craft.
Queequeg came to my side almost immediately, walking on the knees of his forelegs in submission.
"Good-morning Queequeg." I scratched the animal's head. "Beautiful day."
He groaned softly.
My friendship with Queequeg was the only thing that kept me sane. I talked, he listened. Queequeg made me feel needed, gave me a reason to go on with each day.
The animal was what I called a hybear. He had the elongated head of a hyena and the bulky torso of a bear. Thick black fur sheathed most of his body, and tufts of green hair tipped his knees, shoulders, and ears. SK bioengineering at its finest. I suspected Queequeg and his brethren contributed to the terraforming in some small way. Probably inhaled carbon dioxide and exhaled oxygen or something along those lines. But don't quote me on that. I'm no bioengineer, plus I don't have proper bio-scanning equipment.
The main problem with the hybears was that there was no one left to feed them, now that the Sino-Koreans were gone.
And they were hungry. They'd eat the Beasts if they had to, or each other, but they much preferred human flesh, judging from the interest they always showed in me.
I didn't have to worry about Queequeg though. He thought he was human. Still, I had to be wary around him: he existed in a state halfway between a savage animal and a domestic pet, like his namesake from Moby Dick. Sometimes, if I tried to approach him after the frenzy of the hunt, he would snap at me and I'd have to talk so very soothingly to him.
I watched the dark, roiling clouds in the distance. The sight gave me an uneasy feeling in my stomach.
"Storm's growing," I said distractedly.
Queequeg clacked his teeth in answer.
If the storm swept this way we might have to take shelter in one of the abandoned sinkholes that were common to this area of the planet.
But they were never really abandoned, were they?
My stomach growled, thrusting my gloomy thoughts aside. I'd said that the hybears were hungry. Well, so was I.
"Come on, time to hunt."
Queequeg stood to his full height and whooped eagerly.
I hefted my spear—an M4 rifle with the long, sharp mandible of one of the Beasts secured to the end with utility tape and superglue. A crude weapon to be sure, but I'd run out of ammunition a long time ago.
I gave the campsite one last glance to make sure everything was in order. My gaze swept past the damaged shuttle, and not for the first time I wished the AI had awakened me from stasis in orbit rather than trying to land on its own.
When my eyes passed over the intact cockpit glass, I saw a stranger in a furry jumpsuit peering back at me.
Startled, I actually jumped. And when the stranger jumped too, I realized I was looking at my own reflection.
I should have laughed at my own foolishness.
I should have turned around and walked away, shaking my head.
But I hadn't seen myself in weeks.
I'd been avoiding it.
But now that this reflection presented itself, I stared.
And stared.
Beyond that facemask, my features were so sunken, so gaunt, my hair such a stringy mess, that the person I once was proved unrecognizable.
Who had I been?
What had I become?
I didn't even know anymore.
No, that wasn't true.
I did know who I was.
Who I am.
I've gone to places I never dreamed I could go.
Scaled heights I never dreamed I could ascend.
Survived situations so dire and encounters so fierce it's mind-boggling I'm still alive.
I really should be dead.
But I'm not.
And you know what?
I will survive this.
I will endure.
I will see Earth again.
That's a promise.
You can hold me to that.
We all live our own lives in this galaxy.
It just so happens that I live mine on a planet 8,000 lightyears from everyone else. For now.
I have to go.
It's time to hunt.
Remember me in the dark nights, when all hope seems lost.
Remember me in the storm, when you think you can't go on.
Remember who I am and what I stood for.
This is Navy Astrogator Shaw Chopra, signing off.
Thank you for reading!
I hope you enjoyed ATLAS.
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Postpartum
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Thanks again for reading.
About the Author
Isaac Hooke is the author of the military science fiction novel, ATLAS. His experimental genre-bending action novel THE FOREVER GATE was an Amazon #1 bestseller in both the science fiction and fantasy categories when it was released in May 2013.
When Isaac isn't writing, publishing, and blogging, he's busy cycling and taking pictures in Edmonton, Alberta, Canada.
He's been writing since 1997, and he has a degree in Engineering Physics.
Also By Isaac Hooke
Read about Snakeoil's heroism on his first deployment in Caterpillar Without A Callsign, a 7,800 word short story.
Read about Facehopper's encounter with the infamous privateer Mao Sing Ming in Just Another Day, an 8,500 word short story.
Finding Harmon
The Forever Gate Compendium Edition
www.isaachooke.com
