by Andrew Beery
“Had you and Dr. Locus not come to inspect the beast,” I remarked, “I would not be here. As I understand it, I almost didn’t make it anyway. So, I thank you.” I clapped my hands vigorously and bowed toward him.
He smiled and turned to regard the assembly. “Who would like to hear the tale from our huntress?” he asked.
It seemed the entire gathering rose to their feet and applauded their reply. My mouth fell open. It hadn’t really occurred to me they would all want to hear the events from my perspective.
Derrick and Lloyd appeared at each of my elbows. Lloyd moved in and cleared my end of the table while Derrick lifted my chair on to it. Then, Derrick pulled another chair up to the table and offered his hand to me. Their intent was clear. They wanted me to sit on the chair upon the table.
I swallowed hard and took his hand. In no time, I was perched on the raised seat. The room fell silent again.
“So, you wish to hear the tale from me?” I wondered aloud.
“We do,” the crowd thundered.
“Then let me start from the point I learned the invisible creature was coming,” I responded.
The room remained quiet allowing me to spin my story. I told it as accurately as I could. Even though my tale was unembellished, my listeners seem to hang on every word. – I did omit X-tee’s humming which I felt he would appreciate. Such a sweet gesture might endanger his stern macho image. I didn’t miss him mouth the words ‘thank you’ when I skipped over that detail.
When I finished, Derrick’s hand shot into the air. I pointed to him.
“So, you fell out of the tree when the beast dropped to the ground?” he asked.
“Yes, sad but true and very painful,” I answered.
“What would you have done if the creature hadn’t dropped with your multi-arrow shot?” asked a woman who I knew had been among those processing the kills.
“I would have continued to fire as many arrows as I could into it,” I replied. “Assuming my first volley hit the creature, I would have had a visual and sonic target.”
“Do you think the invisible predator knew you were up in the tree?” inquired an anonymous male voice.
“Yes I do,” I responded. “It just didn’t know I was a threat. It may have thought I was a strange smelling, stupid, tree dweller. After all, the brighter ones had fled.”
“Why do you say that?” probed another unknown male voice.
“Judging by the absolute silence it triggered in the jungle by its presence, the other creatures have learned to fear this animal,” I conjectured. “It is an apex hunter meaning it doesn’t have any enemies. That is, until we arrived.”
“Are you saying it will start hunting us?” a frightened woman’s voice asked.
“I’m saying that the creature will learn we are dangerous like we have learned to be wary of the little tree jumpers,” I said. “I won’t lie. Our new world has many hidden dangers. Until our latest hunting expedition, we didn’t even know this cat existed. Now we do. When we go out we need to keep alert so we don’t miss any of the warning signs.”
“What warning signs are you talking about?” questioned Marc, one of the hunters, who was sitting at my table.
“For this cat, there aren’t many,” I told him. “There is, however, absolute silence within the usually noisy jungle. There are quiet footsteps without being able to see the creature. And, there are blurred edges of quick moving body parts. – Obviously, the most notable is the silence.”
“That’s not a lot to go on,” remarked Marta. She, too. was a hunter sitting at my table.
“True,” I agreed. “Captain X-tee, what has Dr. Locus been able to learn about the creature?”
He rose to his feet and turned to regard the assembly. “Dr. Locus has learned that the cat is not fit for human consumption. He is still testing to see why this is so. His preliminary results point to the pigment cells within the tissue. – Other than that, I haven’t heard.”
While he spoke, I made good my escape from the elevated chair. I was seated, once again, at my table. I felt relieved to be just another person in the crowd. I hoped X-tee wouldn’t call me out for it.
Instead he asked, “Are there any other questions?”
No one raised their hand. So, I did.
“Who did the art work on the cake?” I inquired again.
My dorm mates that were sitting at my table all raised their hands.
“It was a group effort,” said Jerad. “Ross and I baked the cake.”
“Kristine drew the image,” revealed Ross. “Emilie and Pascale did the icing.”
“Nice job!” I lauded them. “How did you know chocolate is my favorite kind of cake?”
“Ky, it’s the only kind you eat!” replied Ross.
I laughed. He was right. If the choice included chocolate cake, that’s the one I selected. Still smiling I turned to Kristine.
“You do fine work!” I told her.
“I’m glad you liked it,” she murmured. “I was afraid you would be upset by all the exposed skin.”
“There was a bit more than I thought I let show,” I confided to her. “But I really liked how the focus was the arrow tip and my eye. That was so cool!”
“That was my favorite part to do!” she responded smiling. “I’m glad you enjoyed it.
“I sure did!” I told her enthusiastically.
The gathering broke up soon after X-tee’s report on what Dr. Locus had learned about the cat. As before, people passing by me patted my shoulder and thanked me for my protection. This included the frightened woman whom I knew was a member of the processing group. She wanted to assure me that she knew I’d do everything in my power to keep them safe. – I hoped ‘the everything in my power’ meant the attacking creature was dropped. I didn’t like the scenario in which the creature survived.
My dorm mates walked me to my door. Right before I entered, Derrick presented me with the piece of cake adorned with the focal point.
“Thank you so much!” I managed with emotions threatening to close my throat. “Goodnight everyone! You all did a fine job.”
I stepped quickly over the threshold and closed the door. Alone I sank onto my bed. Tears blurring my vision, I stared at the artwork on my cake. My gold brown eye returned my regard. I hoped, at least, one person had sent me an image of the cake before it was cut. This piece would soon be consumed. How could I possibly let a piece of chocolate cake go stale?
Chapter 4
I awoke with a start. My body drenched in sweat and shivering in the cool air. I held myself still, listening intently. Nothing but my own panting breaths and the racing of my heart filled my ears. I drew deep breaths to calm myself. What had awakened me?
I sighed, realizing it was the old recurrent nightmare, and snuggled down under my covers. It was the night our colony ship crashed upon this world. I remembered it well. It had been nighttime then too. The memory began to replay in my mind.
Alarms split the air jolting us awake. The ship groaned and shuddered constantly. An officer yelled for us to get to our assigned life pod. I staggered through the smoke and confusion to the one I was to go to. I struggled through the hatch and discovered I was the last to arrive. An older man shouted for me to activate the hatch. I pushed the button and, instantly, we were sealed in. Lurching across to the vacant seat, I climbed into it and got myself strapped in. When I did, the light for launch went green. The person nearest the light punched the release button.
We drew away from our ship as the automated system came online. The distance between us increased. Soon we could see the entire vessel through our pod’s view port.
Our ship was too short! I realized with a shock that the engine section was missing. There were three gaping holes spaced along the rest of the ship’s hull. Atmosphere still vented out into space. Our vessel was headed towards the planet behind it.
Time passed slowly. Our little pod was programed to take us to the same planet in a more controlled manner. We knew this world had liquid water, an ox
ygen atmosphere in quantities we could breath, and life. It had not been our destination until we had no other choice.
We stared in horror as the planet’s gravity plunged our ship into its atmosphere. We saw orange and red flames spread out beneath the vessel as it fell. We hoped enough of the ship’s heat shields were left intact to let the vessel reach the surface. Maybe, just maybe, whoever was left aboard would survive the trip.
Our life pod entered the atmosphere at a better angle. It still got a hot. We could see an intense orange and red glow wrapping halfway around the pod. But there were no flames.
The ride was very bumpy. We were shaken and bounced around a lot. Thankfully we were strapped into our chairs. After what seemed like hours, we jerked to a stop. Our downward journey completed.
I remembered being relieved, thankful to be alive. Except for my shoulders and hips which ached from being thrown against the chair’s straps, I was unhurt. I, like my other seven pod mates, were wide eyed and panting. It took us several moments to recover.
Within the pod, our chairs were arranged in a circle. The only empty curve was taken up by the hatch. Storage compartments lined the area between the deck and the base of the chairs. There was a single row of cabinets right above the seats. Above them were the view ports. The top of the pod was composed of metal plates.
I looked around at my pod mates. There were four men and four women, including myself. I can’t recall all of their names. Besides Bernard, Derrick and myself, none of the others survived. We learned the hard way about the predators and the need for a defendable camp on our new world.
The first person to recover was an older gentleman. He was in his late fifties with greying black hair going bald on the top. He was a kind man and knew a lot about the pod. He was acquainted with the inventory and the location of things onboard. It was he who provided guidance. He started his role by having each of us check our neighbor to our left.
Mine had been Derrick. Like me, he was fine. His only complaint was the bruising from the restraint straps. That turned out to be everyone’s complaint.
Our next task was to get to the ship. That proved more difficult than any of us expected. The pod was caught in a humongous tree a long way above the ground. Gusts of wind off the mountain right beside us threatened to dislodge our parachute and send us plummeting to the ground. Already, we had continued our downward fall two times. Happily, but painfully, each time we had been jerked to a stop seconds after our fall had begun.
Older man had suggested that we needed to secure the pod to the tree and release the chute. Derrick and I had volunteered to make it so. Wearing rope harnesses connected to a tether made fast within the pod and carrying a large coil of spare cable, we ventured out of the pod. We were able to secure the pod to the tree. Then, we released the chute. When we did, gravity gripped the pod jerking it down. The sudden movement had left Derrick and I aloft for a few seconds before gravity and our safety line pulled us after the pod.
While the pod didn’t have far to fall because the cable forced it to arc under the tree, we continued to drop. Derrick grabbed my harness and pulled me into a tight embrace. I held onto him too. I knew that should I reach the end of my rope the jerk could break his shoulders, especially if the pod tugged him in a different direction at the same time.
Our groundward fall changed into an arc, swinging us up higher than the pod and the tree. Before we reached our apex, the pod began to swing the other direction. We were tugged after it. As we swung after the pod, we noticed that when it reached its apex, the pod hitched down along the tree.
Both of us saw the large branch growing up out of the tree. It would bring the pod’s lateral movement to a halt. The question was: How would the stop affect us?
We found out soon enough. The pod’s motion added a horizontal element. The addition sent us into a roughly circular path. I squeezed my eyes closed as I fought dizziness.
Presently, our motion came to a stop. We were both relieved. Shifting slightly in Derrick’s arms, I was able to haul up the rope that connected our harnesses. I created a loop for his foot in an effort to take our weight off his shoulders. When he stepped into it, he told me that it helped.
About that time, our pod mates began hauling us up. We were pulled upward a half meter at a time. The even upward pace allowed us to pay attention to our new home.
We dangled so that we faced the mountain from which our tree grew. The tree rose from the slopes at a gentile angle. It looked like it would make a fairly easy walkway down to the ground.
Trouble was the tree grew at a deflection point. Above it, the slope became a cliff face. Whether there existed anyway upward, we couldn’t tell. Below the tree, the slope dropped steeply down into the tree canopy. The grade must have been about seventy five percent, if not greater. And there was no telling what lay under the leaves of the forest. We had no way of knowing how tall those trees were or what they hid.
The view away from the mountains was composed of tree leaves as far as we could see. Off near the horizon, we could see mist rising above the canopy. Dark lines cut through the forest. All of them seemed to head toward the misty area. Presumably those lines indicated rivers and the misty place was a swamp or the edge of a lake.
The ground below us was hidden from our sight. Only the forest canopy was visible. I wondered at the life on this planet. I had seen vids showing vast varieties of birds, reptiles, and mammals inhabiting the forests of ancient Earth. I could tell nothing from my current height.
My thoughts were interrupted by our pod mates helping us into the pod. For a moment, I was content to lay on the deck and rest. I was pleased to see Derrick doing the same.
A middle-aged woman with warm brown eyes and skin handed me a water bottle. I sat up and took it, quenching a thirst I hadn’t realized I had. The woman gave a bottle to Derrick. He winced as he took it and the woman examined him. His shoulders had been rubbed raw. The woman retrieved the med kit and went to work on him. When she was satisfied, she examined me. I told her he had taken the brunt of every rope jerk.
When it was suggested we get some sleep, I remember feeling angry and grateful. I was angry because we needed to get to the ship. There might be other survivors who needed our help. But I couldn’t fault the logic. The sun was going down on our first day on our new planet. We couldn’t help anyone if we all fell to our death in the dark. We would wait for daylight so we could see what we were doing. – I was grateful because I was exhausted.
We spent the night safe in our pod secured to the tree. Tomorrow morning, we would figure out how to get to the ground and to the ship. I remembered hoping that would, indeed, be the case.
Early the next day, we ventured out of the pod. Each of us wore a radio headset, a harness made of spare restrain straps, and gloves. If Older man had had his way, we would have been wearing hazmat suits to protect us from all the unknowns we were about to face. The only reason we weren’t was because none of the suits were aboard the pod.
The great tree trunk did make an easy way to the mountain slope. After a brief search, we managed to find a way up onto a stony plateau above the tree. From there, we easily located our crashed vessel because it had ripped a long gash through the forest canopy. It looked like there should have been fires but we neither saw nor smelled smoke in the air. I suppose it was possible that the smoke was born away from us on the wind.
After locking both the ship’s and our position into the guidance device Radio man carried, we set off for the vessel. We decided to stay above the trees. We thought the going would be easier and better lit than traveling under the canopy.
Finally, we had worked our way around to the mountain’s edge closest to the crash site. We left the sanctuary of the rock and entered the forest. It was a whole different world under the trees. It was darker, more humid, and filled with lots of unknown noise.
We paused at the forest’s edge to let our eyes adjust to the lower light levels. As we did, skittering sounds and strange calls cam
e to our ears. It seemed a long time before our vision adapted.
In the dimness, we saw strange plant life. This vegetation looked nothing like the great trees supporting the canopy. These plants reminded me of vids documenting flora that grew under the sea on ancient Earth. Some of them resembled gorgonian fans while others looked like anemones. Both had tentacle-like leaves stretching into the humid air. It was startling for those leaves to quickly vanish into the stem when the leaves were touched. I wondered what these creatures ate, especially since they were so large and numerous.
As we pushed through the plants, we came upon other types. The most notable grew large, flat leaves, like dinner plates, that lit up when disturbed. They glowed in eerie shades of yellow, green or blue. The glowing did little to light up the surroundings. Instead, they drew attention to themselves.
We had to work to focus on following Radio man. He held the guidance device and was using it to make sure we kept heading towards the crash site. I was sure that if I didn’t pay attention, I would wonder over for a closer look at those glowing plants. That feeling gave me the creeps. I couldn’t help imagining myself as a moth attracted to the light of a bug zapper.
Presently, we arrived at the crash site. For a few long moments, all we could do was stare. Our ship, our home for so many years was in ruin. A portion of it, presumably the nose section, had carved a large furrow in the ground. Much of the ship was hidden by the dirt the vessel plowed through before coming to a stop. Back along the ship’s trail, a debris field spread for about two klicks. We stood facing the biggest piece of our vessel. It was appallingly short even if it filled most of the furrow.
Older man recommended that we split into four groups of two and search the vessel and debris field. He suggested we search for survivors first and then for anything to help us survive our new world. He asked us to give frequent reports.
I was paired with Nurse lady, the woman who had tended Derricks shoulders. We climbed the mound and turned to the right to walk along the long side of the ship toward the debris field beyond. The vessel’s hull was pitted, blackened and dented. There was no way to tell how much of the damage was caused before the crash.
