by John Lilley
‘You’re right. If we get the drone up to its 5,000 feet ceiling, then the radio’s range, depending on cloud cover, etc., could be as much as 350 miles. It’s got to be worth a try. Why don’t we spend all day tomorrow on this and then start to walk the day after if we get no joy?’ said Dennis.
‘Anything that will save me fifteen days of walking on starvation rations has got to be worth a try.’ said Jane.
The limit on the drone was not the altitude, but its battery life. Once above 5,000 feet, it required a lot of energy to fight against the winds and stay over the airstrip. They kept it aloft for an hour at a time before its power was down to 10% and then brought it quickly back down for a recharge from the Osprey’s batteries. With each flight, they took in in turns to read out a mayday request for Jake. All day their handsets just brought back static. Failing light eventually curtailed the seventh flight after just thirty minutes, with still no reply. So with great resignation, they packed up the drone and had a generous supper before preparing themselves mentally for the long walk the next day.
Jake was sat on a chair under the awning of his tent down in Columbia. It had not been a good day for him, the constant worry over the Osprey expedition was getting to him, and they had only been gone for three days. He stared up at the early night sky as the last rays of the evening sun were silhouetting the nearby buildings of the naval base. The bats were already out in force, and a small family of armadillos (Dasypus Novemcinctus) were scuffling around a few yards away. Time for bed he thought. He checked the radio which had been setup on a small table just inside the tent’s doorway. Something seemed wrong; the red power light was not illuminated. He pressed the on/off button a couple of times, but no joy. He was in the shadow of the tent’s main light so slipped on his head-torch from his pocket and switched it on. Moving the radio around so he could see the back of it, he checked the power cable wire. It was still in place, so he traced it back to beneath the table and the transformer they had made up to supply the correct voltage for the ancient equipment. Everything was OK to that point, but when he pulled on the supply-side cable to the transformer it came towards him too easily, and he found himself staring at bare wires.
Bloody armadillos, he thought as he looked for the other end of the chewed-through cable.
Several of the cables coming into the tent had been chewed through. It would take him quite some time to fix them all, but he decided to concentrate on the radio supply. He had no idea how long it had been out but could have missed important messages from the Osprey team, even though they were not due to check in for a few more days when they were back in range. The rewire took him thirty minutes. The radio immediately showed that it had numerous messages stored in its buffer, which must have come in during the day, while he was away from the set walking around the base. Anyway, he played the first few through just so he made the best of the patchy signal and managed to piece together the whole repeated message, then he scrolled through to the last one where Jane said that they were shutting down the radio and would be setting off walking in the morning. Back at the 4x4, he searched on its navigation system for Summerville and then the airport. Forty minutes later he was packed up and on the road back to the Asheville dome.
There was a dust storm raging when Dennis and Jane awoke just before dawn. It buffeted the plane but didn’t stop them from having a hearty cooked breakfast. The wind seemed to increase in intensity and was gently rocking the plane as it caught its wings and rotors. Then there was a sudden much louder rumbling sound which they both assumed was thunder.
‘Great that’s all we need a dust storm and a thunderstorm, what a great bonus they will be to our walk,’ said Dennis.
Jane just laughed, but then they both spun around as there was a knocking coming from the cargo bay door. Too regular to be anything but a person knocking, but they still stared at each other wanting an explanation before the knocking came again, this time accompanied by Jake’s southern drawl: ‘Come on open up, it’s blowing the crap out of me out here.’
The flight back to Asheville was uneventful. Jane and Dennis were relishing the smoothness and relative comfort of Jake’s hovercar.
‘So what do we do next, how are we going to get Harry back?’ said Jane.
‘Well, we can’t get there and back in a hovercar and even if we could, how could we possibly find him in all that forest. Also, how would we get him away from the Natives? It’s not looking good,’ said Jake.
‘Seems desperate, do you think Central would help us?’ said Dennis.
Jake and Jane turned to him with looks of disbelief.
Gene, Bill, Carlos and Jake were all sat in front of their conference call monitors. Jake was the most distant, being in his new “temporary” home near Asheville.
‘OK wise guy, so you got them into this mess, what are you going to do about it?’ said Gene to Jake. ‘Don’t you have anything in that Columbia scrap yard of yours that could handle the Natives?’
‘I suppose I did encourage them to go up there,’ Jake said. ‘Harry was keen to go, but I’m worried about him guys, you’ve got to help us.’
‘What can we do?’ said Bill. ‘We’re just a bunch of old farts.’
‘Hey, no need to get upset,’ said Jake.
‘Know what you really are Jake, is someone who’s too small to ask Central to help you?’ added Carlos. ‘I thought you were the big guy, the one who spurned Central. Are you now coming crawling back?’
‘Look,’ said Jake. ‘Let’s all put that kind of difference to one side immediately. These are our Kids we’re talking about here. You, of all people Carlos. I knew a time when you would have immediately blasted off for the northern forests ready to take a piece of Native with your teeth if you had to.’
Carlos stared quietly at the bottom of his monitor screen. They all felt bad about the situation, but at the same time helpless. As Jake had said, in their youth, they would have tackled anything, even the Natives. But there was also a certain underlying element of the others blaming Jake for what had happened.
‘Well, shall I ask the old bastard?’ said Gene.
The other three just nodded in agreement.
Gene called Brad into the room: ‘We need a conversation with the boss.’
‘As you wish sir,’ said Brad.
Immediately a fifth attendee joined the conference on the monitors. The face of Lucas Powell, complete with aviator shades: ‘Hi guys, welcome back Jake. How can I help you?’
Two days later Dennis and Jane were picked up by two modified hovercars. Gene had told them that the cars’ range had been extended and that the simulants that would accompany the expedition were military models which had been modified to make them harder for the Natives to detect from a distance. He also said that one of the cars would be carrying mostly supplies and that they should travel in the other car.
The simulants on board their car were not particularly talkative, most seemed to have partially shut down, something that Dennis and Jane had not seen before. During their previous life in the domes, they’d been used to all simulants jumping to their every command and found this latest behaviour somewhat disturbing. Dennis could not see why the military modifications would result in such obvious changes in their human interaction; however, he decided to keep his thoughts to himself.
The simulant pilot was not making any compromises to accommodate human physiology, so they just hung on, grinned and tried to enjoy the scenery flashing by. The second hovercar containing the other simulants and the additional cargo was flying in formation 300 yards to port.
Jane’s shoulder wound was still smarting where her shirt rubbed against the dressing, and her hand and face were still badly swollen, but the shrapnel burn down her back was the most irritating of her recent injuries, especially when strapped into a flight seat. She managed to find some comfort from thinking that they were now on their way to rescue Harry. Then she thought about having to confront the Natives once more and where Harry was and began to weep
quietly to herself again.
Dennis had decided to continue his tests on radiation. He had brought along the small hand-held Geiger Counter which was now reporting a quite high signal, not matching his observations on their previous trip north. As he turned to starboard to get a handkerchief from his rucksack, he noticed that the signal faded. He rotated his arm back to port, and the signal picked up again. Pointing it downwards it reduced, upwards it reduced, back to port and it increased. Perhaps there was some small source in the hovercar which was causing this? He got out of his seat and used the overhead grab-rails to walk towards the port-side access door, playing the Geiger Counter left and right looking for the strongest signal. He reached the window and looked at where the highest trace was coming from: the other hovercar.
Several hours later they landed on the exact same rocky outcrop that Dennis had found with the Osprey. Dennis’s mind immediately went into overdrive; he could not help thinking that Central may have monitored their every move in the Osprey. If that were so, then he must have deduced what they were up to all along. Why would he be so helpful in coming to Harry’s rescue? What was the cargo in the other hovercar and why was it radioactive?
The Platoon Leader of the simulants told them that one soldier would stay with the cars and would use the drone to keep in communication with the rescue party. Also, he would fly in to pick them up or to bring further equipment, as and when required. This would happen automatically once contact was made with the Natives.
‘So what is in the cargo car?’ asked Dennis.
‘Mostly additional food for you guys, plus extra ammunition,’ replied the Platoon Leader.
Dennis let the conversation drop but sneaked a look at the Geiger Counter now only a few feet away from the second hovercar. Surely not, he thought as he looked at the readings.
The rescue party scrambled down the rocky outcrop and into the forest below. Jane and Dennis kept at the back of the group with just one of the heavily armed simulants bringing up the rear. That was another strange thing, Dennis thought, why had he and Jane not been given any weapons?
The first night’s camp in the forest began very quietly. Jane and Dennis prepared their food rations on the small portable solid fuel burner. They could have easily got one of the simulants to do it, but just welcomed the distraction. They then spent an hour getting a small campfire going. Meanwhile, five of the simulant soldiers patrolled the perimeter of the camp at a distance of 20 yards while the remaining four sat in the camp. The forest was surprisingly busy at night. The relentless chorus of the crickets and frogs seemed overpowering at times. This was interspersed with bird cries, and the distant, more disconcerting noises of much larger animals. For Dennis, it was still a big adventure having not been in the forest before. The sheer size and natural beauty of the forest were making a big impression on him. He was tired, but somehow the warm scented forest air and the glow from the fire was keeping him awake, he just didn’t want to miss a thing. For Jane, the horrors of her recent escapades in this forest were too raw to forget. Sitting around by the fire was just stirring up those memories, and the sounds of the forest were making her jumpy. She made her excuses and went to bed, leaving Dennis by the fire.
It started as a muffled crashing noise to the south, the sound of branches cracking indicated that something large was on the move. Then the noise stopped, but ten minutes later it came again, only this time much nearer with discernible heavy footfalls. The soldiers had all picked up on it and closed ranks on that side of the camp. Some 200 yards away a large bush was moving. The soldiers watched as an enormous head emerged low down at the side of the bush. The creature was chewing purposefully on the vegetation it has just stripped from the bush. On top of the creature's snout appeared to be a large horn ending in a bulbous bony tip. It moved slowly out from behind the bush, the small ears above its head twitching as if to swat some midges. Its shoulders seemed to go on forever; sloping upwards from the head and finally peaking at around nine feet above sturdy tree-trunk legs with elephant-like feet. The creature’s back sloped downwards to its rear, but only slightly. It was covered from head to toe in a thin layer of mottled brown and grey fur. Still chewing it kept walking but turned towards them creating more puzzles for the soldiers’ recognition systems because the single horn was actually two, around two feet in length and shaped like a two handled spade if such a thing existed. The creature seemed to be returning the soldiers’ stares. It now stood motionless, except for the slow movement of its prehensile lips as it crunched through the tough vegetation. Eventually, it finished the mouthful and continued to stare at the soldiers for a full five minutes before it began to move again. Like a steam roller, the massive creature slowly headed straight for the camp impervious to the undergrowth standing in its path. It was barging its way through at a slow walking pace, but on its long legs, it had already covered 50 yards with no sign of stopping. The soldiers observed the creature with increased fascination. As far as their knowledge-spaces were concerned the creature was some sort of herbivore, male, and similar in shape to a rhinoceros (Ceratotherium Simium), only much bigger, probably around five tons in weight. The horn looked like it could have been used for fighting, perhaps some sort of male courtship aide? Rhinos were listed as dumb herbivores with poor eyesight and only dangerous if provoked. This creature, however, was moving its head from side to side and appeared to be counting the soldiers. At 40 yards out the creature stopped. Its immense size was now more apparent, head-on it was as wide as it was tall. A mountain of muscle and bone, not the sort of dumb creature you would want to frighten into a stampede, assuming you could frighten it because it was completely unfazed by the soldiers’ presence. Obviously, it had no idea what the weapons they were carrying were capable of. Without warning it tilted its head back and let out an almighty bellowing noise. Several of the soldiers jumped in an autonomic reflex, and one of them dropped his weapon. Dennis and two other soldiers came running.
‘What in hell was that?’ Dennis said anxiously.
‘Oh it’s just a stupid herbivore,’ said the nearest soldier having regained his composure.
Dennis stared in disbelief at the creature. His heart began to pound, and he felt a strong reflexive tightening down below.
‘It’s a brontotherium, how in hell does that even exist here?’ said Dennis.
Julie came running up by his side, skidding to a halt as she saw the creature. Staring open mouthed she gently grabbed onto Dennis’s arm and cowered behind him.
‘It’s a brontotherium,’ she whispered.
‘I know,’ he whispered back.
At that moment the creature turned to the left and started to move again. Twenty yards later it turned left again and began to walk away from the camp.
All the soldiers were still watching the retreating creature when the attack began. They came from all directions at once, three to each member of the group: One on the weapon arm while the other two knocked or dragged the victim to the floor. Dennis was flattened by the momentum of the first Wolf. He screamed as another of the 120 lb creatures bit into his ankle and started to drag him along the ground. The first wolf now stood on his chest snapping at his throat. Desperately, he beat at the creature with his left hand only to be rewarded by the growling wolf gripping his forearm in its vice-like jaws. The wolf’s teeth pierced and crushed the flesh and bones of his arm. Dennis felt he was going to throw up. He brought up his other arm and began to beat the wolf on its head. This had little effect on the creature but dislocated two of Dennis’s fingers before the third wolf attacked and bit right through the palm of Dennis’s flailing right hand. The world turned black, and Dennis lost consciousness.
‘What do you mean they took some of your weapons? What are they going to do with them? Sell them to the Natives? Ouch, watch what you’re doing,’ snapped Dennis as one of the soldiers dressed his wounds.
‘I don’t know sir. It was almost as if they’d planned the attack and used that brontotherium as a decoy. There are
too many unanswered questions. Perhaps we need to call the hovercars and get out of here?’ said the soldier.
‘We’re not letting a pack of dogs and a stupid creature from the past beat us. Let’s take stock and then decide if we need more backup,’ said Dennis.
They made slow progress the next day. Dennis’s ankle was severely swollen and made walking painful for him. Jane seemed to have got off lightly in the attack. She’d been knocked into a patch of ferns behind Dennis and wasn’t touched by the wolves. Despite his injuries, Dennis managed to keep going all day making a further 15 miles towards where they had last encountered the Natives. The evening meal was a hurried affair because Jane and Dennis were both desperately tired.
Four hours later one of the soldiers was walking along the perimeter of the camp, completely unaware of the grizzly bear (Ursus Arctos Horribilis) that was standing on its hind legs and hiding behind a large tree on his patrol route. He’d already passed the tree several times, but his enhanced senses failed to pick up anything coming from the bear. As the soldier approached the tree this time, the bear waited until he’d just passed before making its move. The bear’s 6 inch fore claws penetrated the soldier’s head on each side as the bear lifted the soldier off the ground. The soldier’s body twitched a few times and then was still. The only sound from the whole attack came from the soldier’s firearm as it fell from his grip onto the thick leaf-mould of the forest floor. The bear waited a few seconds until the soldier’s body had stopped moving. It then lowered the body quietly to the floor and extracted its claws from the soldier’s head allowing the internal fluids to gush from the wounds and mingle with the leaf litter. The bear then recovered the weapon, tucked it into the soldier’s webbing and picked up the body in its mouth. Proceeding as quietly as it could the 800 lb eight-foot tall bear carried the body away through the forest to a clearing some 200 yards away. It casually tossed the soldier’s broken body into the centre of the clearing, turned and sauntered off. Two Natives immediately emerged from the undergrowth as soon as the bear had left. One of them removed the soldier’s weapon and slung it over his shoulder. They then secured the soldier’s body to a long ash pole and shouldering the pole they carried the body silently away into the night.
