Kraken Orbital

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Kraken Orbital Page 4

by James Stubbs


  Kolt hasn’t said anything all afternoon. It’s irritating how collected he is. It’s annoying how he doesn’t have to try and doesn’t seem to be affected at all by the painful desert heat. I want to take my armor off and cool down but I know that if I do I’ll just get burned to a crisp.

  I can smell the snake cooking around his back. The heat bouncing down on it’s fragile flesh, reflected and intensified over his disgusting apron, and the thing is cooking in it’s own skin. I want it to make me sick. I would feel more normal if it did. But it’s just making me hungry. The flesh is sizzling under the scales and I can smell the meat as if it was a barbeque.

  Maybe it’s just that I’m so used to eating that crud they forced down my throat for the past five years of my life. All you can eat snake buffet sounds, smells and looks appealing right now. I can’t help but to stare at it. Swinging back and forth with each of his gentle steps.

  The sun is low in the sky and its hard to see. The light is calmer though and ebbs away with each passing second. As the powerful, evil sun passes down into the night and stops belting us all day long. I feel as though I can’t take anymore. I stop, shout to Kolt, and start frantically tearing at the shell of my armor. Kolt turns. I though he was going to stop me and complain that I was slowing down the pace. But instead he waits patiently as I clamor at the sticky armor.

  My skin is wet and clammy. The soft texture of the armor underneath sticks to my arms as I pull and tug at it relentlessly. The sudden exertion makes my heart beat faster and I feel like I’m about to pass out again. A few deep breaths settles me and my armor finally relents. I pull my arm free and take off the torso cover like a sweater. I fall to my knees, panting for breath from the dry desert and sandy air, and watch as sweat drips down my ridiculously hairy chest.

  The air feels cool. And the sun dries me gently as the day slips, finally, into old age. I take one last deep breath and open my eyes. My chest hair tingles as the sun caresses me dry. I sigh. Happily.

  ‘We are almost to the body of water.’ Kolt raises a weary arm to the setting sun. I watch him in silence. I’m only half interested in what he has to say. I’m watching the gorgeous rays of orange colored light wash across the darkening sky as the sun dips below the dunes. I turn to see the three moon’s of the planet rise in the pale sky behind me like silver discs in the sky. The view clashed as night met day and day was defeated by night.

  I can see the stars again over my shoulder and I could not be more grateful of it. I know the night will be cold. I know that as the heat disperses I will beg for the sun once more. But I don’t want to let that thought drive me crazy. I don’t want to feel like I’m in some kind of perpetual Hell. I just want to feel cool and dry as the sun finally gives in.

  I can’t even be bothered to reply to Kolt. I just get to my feet. He locks eyes with me and just waits to see if I can carry on. He is much kinder than I have judged him to be. I feel guilty and ashamed of how I reacted to him. I thought I was better than that. To judge a man because he looks, simply, terrifying.

  ‘You want me to carry the bag.’ I ask him. I am surprised at how croaky my voice sounds. I haven’t used it much all day. He shakes his head but carries on without looking back. ‘Or maybe your gun if it’s getting heavy?’ I offer. It must have sounded like a threat. Or a ghastly attempt at diplomatically disarming him. He doesn’t rise to it. Even though the bait was completely unintentional.

  ‘I can manage.’ He says in his rugged accent.

  ‘Where did you find that thing by the way?’ I have wanted to ask him that since the first second we met. I thought people had given up on projectile weapons long ago. I should have been more considerate though. He has lost his memory and is, like me, trapped on an alien and unfamiliar world. I didn’t mean for my question to cause him any offence.

  ‘It was on my ship.’ He looked, more sounded, distant again. I can’t see his eyes. But I doubt they’ve changed and still look as distant. We walk side by side for the first time since meeting. If I could see them I’m certain they would be the windows to his lost soul and would be searching his broken memory for the answer to my question. But he continues.

  ‘I found it after the fire finally went out. I’d not thought about… what it is? Is it old?’ He asks me and sounds pretty genuine too. He sounds confused. He even glances over to me. I can only see his eyes for a second but they look horrified. He looks like a broken man, hiding under his impressive shell. For the first time in our short relationship, I feel deeply sorry for him.

  ‘Yeah man.’ I reply. I don’t want to upset him. But he is freaking me out a little again. I try not to let it show and think back to how silly I was to be scared of a man who saved me. ‘Nobody uses projectile anymore. They’re noisy, inefficient, offensive weapons.’ I try to explain to him. He draws it from his back and studies it as though he was picking it up for the first time ever. He holds it nervously but grips around it with his open palms a few times. Its like he is reassuring himself of something.

  ‘I like it.’ He finally says and throws it back over his shoulder. He strides forth again. He can walk as fast as he likes, he isn’t escaping the reality that he is lost. Perhaps more so than I.

  I’m sure now. I am sure I can hear the water. I can see the light reflected from the celestial moons against the lapping and undulating waves ahead. It’s pretty much dark, and our conversation about his gun is a distant memory for us both by the time we finally make it to the shore. The lapping, gentle and caressing sounds eventually turn into crashing and slapping waves as we draw closer. I can see the blackness of the water ahead and the breeze rolling in cools me to a more comfortable level.

  The water can’t be deep, or the stretch of it between land masses long. I can see, in the very distance, tones and hues of green on the horizon and the washing shadows of trees swaying in the wind. I want to drink so bad. I remember my survival training and I know that I can’t drink salt water. I can smell the saline in the air as we finally stop.

  The sand about my boots is cooler and damp here. I pull my armor back on in the brief recess. As I expected, the night brings the cold with it. I remember watching instructional videos about drinking salt water and how it dehydrates you quickly. It sounded easy back in what passed as a classroom back at work. It sounded obvious. It was almost insulting that they would have offended our intelligence and overstated it.

  But the video didn’t mention how hard it was. To stand in front of a stretch of water and not be able to drink when you are, literally, dying to quench your thirst. I envied ignorance. I wish I could just drink and not know what torture my body would go through because of it. But I can’t and I don’t.

  Kolt stops too and places our bag of meager supplies on the cool sand. I know we can’t swim this mass of water in the dark. I have to face another cold night in the desert. He takes the dead creature from around his neck and snaps the snake clean in half with his bare hands. He, kindly, gives me the larger half.

  ‘Other half for breakfast.’ I could swear he is smiling. Even laughing. Under that garish black mask of his. But I’m so grateful I don’t stop to analyze it. I wolf the meat down without stopping to feel sorry for him because he can’t even eat. He stabs his needle back into the water bottle and again into his already battered and bruised arm.

  The meat is chewy, tough, and tastes like overcooked pork. But I couldn’t care less. I wolf it down, tearing into the gristle and flesh with my back teeth. I yank at the snake and tear it apart like a possessed wild animal. I have left any manners behind, and did so long ago, and don’t stop until the meat and skin are all eaten. It warms my stomach and I feel a gentle, soothing build up of energy that builds like a crescendo inside of me. I feel alive again. I feel like I could swim an ocean with ease, find the biggest dinosaur on the planet and punch it right in the snout.

  Chapter 4

  Triassic World

  I awake to a grumbling, belching, ear splitting roar. My eyes spring open in shock and I scra
mble undignified to my bare feet. The sun is barely up behind us and a cold wind races through the unforgiving desert in the early morning. Sand whips up from across the dunes and blasts into my eyes unsympathetically. In the cold light of the morning I can see further and more clearly than last night.

  I can see the trees on the horizon sway, and I can even hear their branches and trunks snap, but can’t make out the form of a beast. Something must be moving through the tree-line.

  I can only assume that noise was from one of the resident dinosaurs. Kolt is already up and is sat by the calm water with that bottle jammed into his veins again. I can hear him breathe in time with the low, gentle, lapping waves. I stretch my tight muscles to get rid of the cramp forming in the backs of my things and at the base of my spine. I reach for that left over snake meat and tear into it. Shame it’s gone cold but I can’t wait for the sun to heat it back up again. It would just burn it to more of a crisp anyway.

  I eat fast and it makes my stomach turn. I couldn’t care less though. I just want to eat. I hope we even find another one it’s that nice. But this is survival, different to any other situation I’ve ever been in, and every day counts. So I doubt realistically that we’ll find another.

  The night was cold like I thought it would be. I kept my armor on right through the night though so I guess it could have been worse. I looked at all of the stars again. I spent hours laying on the cool sand, stubbornly awake, just staring at the glimmering lights in the black sky above.

  I remember how I used to pick one in the distance. Back when I was a kid. I remembered how I used to pick one at random and dream about what might be there. What planets might orbit it in a celestial dance. What creatures, or even men, used to walk upon their surfaces and swim in their oceans. I imagined a better world. I just wanted to spread my wings and break off the chains that held me to one place. I just wanted to wriggle free of the shackles that bound me to the one spot.

  I used to use that feeling to remind myself that there was always a way out. To remind myself that no matter what, you just have to keep one eye on the door at all times. Even when things seem ok. You never know when you might need that desperate escape route. So that’s why I stole the rig and crashed it into a sandy desert. I was buzzed with that thought all night.

  It was kind of rock and roll, what I did. Never caring and just hitting the open sky with a stolen ride. I felt elated and self satisfied. I had been keeping an eye on the door the whole time. But that wasn’t enough. Eventually, after staring at it for long enough and hating your life for long enough, and coveting what might be on the other side, you just have to open it. And step out into a bigger world.

  Right now I don’t even care if I die out here. I don’t care if I get eaten alive by monsters that were supposed to be long extinct. Because it will be my own damn fault. And that sets me free.

  Kolt sharply tugs the needle and tube away from his arm. He stands un-phased by the sinewy noise it makes and turns to me. I know I have a huge smile on my face. It’s just an aftershock from the sudden and probably a little naïve energy burst I have. I’m just pumped to get going. All those thoughts I had last night about stretching out to distant stars and just seeing what there was there. I would be a huge hypocrite if I didn’t just start enjoying myself in the here and now.

  I know it’s dangerous. I know all we are doing is going off in search of rescue but it’s enough. Even though I’ll probably just end up going back home to be brought up on charges. And then likely shot in jail. At least the food will be better there.

  ‘Are you prepared?’ Kolt asks me between labored breaths. I have already got my red, battle brushed, armor on since I slept in it. I pull my boots on quickly and drink the last of the water. We will have to find more once we reach the forest on the other side of the expanse of water. Kolt hasn’t picked the backpack up and I frankly see no need in dragging it along. I have equipment slots in my utility belt and in the pockets of my basic armor. I don’t want the bag to weigh me down on the swim. He just takes the clear bottles that used to have water in and pins them to his equipment belt underneath the muddy colored overalls.

  ‘Let’s do this?’ I almost shout. The trees upon the horizon have settled and I hear no more monstrous growls. I am a little scared. My ego has shrunk that to a niggling little voice though and my eagerness is masking it, even from myself. I clap my hands together and flail my arms around to get the blood back to my fingers. I can feel my heart rate increase as I swing my limbs around and jog on the spot. Kolt does nothing.

  He enters the water like a specter and simply walks until he can stand no longer. He then spreads out his arms and begins to wade through the waves. The air still holds a cold sting but I would rather we set off now that wait for the sun to reach it’s full strength. That would sap our strength and the sun stroke would probably drown us in a haze of confusion. I ride my energy boost and throw myself into the water and splash like an excitable child to catch up with Kolt. I slow my pace for his sake. But saving my energy is probably the best option anyway.

  I start to wave my arms though the sickly and salty water. The waves get stronger the further out we swim. I fight against the weight of my armor to keep my mouth above water level. The salty taste makes me physically sick but I can hold it together. The water tastes dangerously sweet but I still have to fight that powerful urge to just take a long, briefly satisfying, gulp. The waves toss us around like rag dolls in a bathtub but it’s kind of fun. I’m a confident swimmer, I even enjoy it. Even though I haven’t done it for a very long time.

  Kolt is still keeping his same pace, his same rhythm, and remains irritatingly calm throughout. I think we might be making some progress until I turn around and see the land we left is far closer to us than the land we left behind. I decide to pass the time by quizzing Kolt on his odd theories. Maybe I can even help him regain a few memories.

  ‘Why don’t you think you need to be rescued?’ I shout as another wave bounces me up with the force of the hydraulic motion.

  ‘From what do I require rescue?’ He shouts back. I can barely make it out through his breathing apparatus. Maybe he is having trouble keeping water out of it. I secretly hope we find a way to get that thing off for him. It would be nice to see his face I guess. I’m finding it hard enough to read him without being able to pick up on his subtle facial expressions.

  ‘Just to get away from this planet I guess. No family back home? Will they be worried that you’re lost?’ I shout again. The conversation is fragmented. I’m starting to run out of steam and I’m out of breath. I’m also battling the waves with fierce swings of my arms.

  ‘I was lost at home.’ He yells back in that irritating cryptic way of his.

  ‘What?’ I wished I could have hollered something more intelligent back but nothing comes to my tired mind.

  ‘What are your thoughts on being lost?’ I don’t even have the energy to reply. I can see the shore of the other mass of land come slowly into view. Another few more powerful minutes of aggressive swimming and we can make it.

  I pull myself by my elbows away from the foaming water and onto the warm beach of the next island. The sand here is grainier and scrapes audibly over my plastic coated armor. I cough uncontrollably and churn up a few mouths of salty water. I can’t move. I hadn’t even noticed how hard that swim had been on my arms. I thought I was stronger than that. Maybe my arms were just too used to chiseling at stone.

  Kolt, I see over my shoulder as I lie face down in the gravel like sand, walks out of the water on two feet. The ocean spills over his brown apron and over his heaving shoulders. He isn’t even out of breath.

  ‘Even though I called it home, and enjoyed the comfort of having one, my heart felt unsettled. My soul was lost to me. I ask you, Parker, how can a man find his soul without first becoming irreconcilably lost himself?’ He sends shivers down my spine.

  ‘I do not require rescue because I no longer feel lost. Even though I am lost. If I am “rescued” I re
turn to a home that I no longer crave. Somewhere I do not belong.’ He passes me by and doesn’t help me to my feet as I was oddly expecting him to. He peers into the tree line that sweeps the beach for as far as the eye stretches in both directions.

  The greenery is thick and I can’t see a lot through the choking veil of vegetation.

  ‘Where next?’ I ask him enthusiastically, still riding the emotional energy I seem to have stumbled across.

  ‘When I finally made it down the mountain, where my ship had crashed, I found a system of caves that led me into the forest we see before us. I hope that I can find my way back.’ I shrug. I could argue with him and complain that we might never find it but why bother? He has seen me right, even put me to shame, in terms of my physical ability so far on this trek. I trust him. I know I didn’t before. I know that I was scared of him and I found him aggressive. But he has won me over I guess.

  He slipped past the first palm branch and disappeared into the thick tropical shrubbery. I followed with a smile and I’m looking forward to the change in terrain and hopefully temperature too.

  The jungle is a dense and claustrophobic place to be in. The thick branches of the various plants and trees form thick symbiotic knots around one another. I have to remain constantly aware of what is around me and what is under my feet. Sometimes I can’t even see the muddy earth below. I have to climb through overgrown branches and coiled up vegetation just to make any ground. Progress is painfully slow and I’m starting to sweat already. I don’t dare take my armor off though. I know what is in the jungle, hiding, and to add to it I keep snagging my shoulders and chest on knotted branches and twisted trees that I don’t even see.

 

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