Eternal Frontier (The Eternal Frontier Book 1)

by Anthony J Melchiorri

  He thought of all the emergency supplies he could use sitting aboveground in his air car. If only he could take these three down. He eyed the limping pirate’s holstered pistol. It wouldn’t be too hard to subdue him, but how would he deal with the other two? Especially with his injury—he wasn’t sure he could prevail in hand-to-hand combat.

  They carried on through the hanging, bioluminescent plants through the tunnel. Tag mulled over various plans, lost deep in thought. But when a warm wind rustled his suit, all plans of escape and worries about his injury dissipated. His eyes went wide, and even his heart seemed to stop.

  What he saw next he never would’ve expected on a planet as frozen and dead as Eta-Five.

  CHAPTER TWENTY-SEVEN

  A soft beep within Tag’s EVA suit signaled that the atmosphere here was amenable to human life. Oxygen and temperatures were at acceptable, in fact comfortable, levels. But it wasn’t the suitability of the environment that shocked him.

  The tunnel opened into a vast chamber. No, not a chamber. Another world entirely. The landscape sloped deep into the belly of Eta-Five, and Tag couldn’t even see the end of this mammoth cave. Huge, tree-like plants sprouted in columns taller and wider than Earth redwoods. Their leaves, like those of the plants hanging from the ceiling or growing along the ground, glowed in light blues, dark purples, and vibrant reds. Wind whispered through those bright, enormous leaves. And the breeze wasn’t the only sound.

  Calls, vaguely like Earth birds’, sang out in melodic choruses. Some birdsongs came across as lonesome wails, while others were high-pitched sopranos rising and falling along musical scales. Somewhere in the distance came the rush of a waterfall and a river coursing over rocks. Tag thought he heard a more rhythmic noise, like that of a drumbeat. Low and steady.

  A bird broke through the tree canopy, squawking and flapping six wings. A long, feathery tail drifted behind it, and its white feathers seemed to reflect the glow of the multicolored leaves it passed. Everywhere Tag looked, there was a strange insect or intriguing plant beyond his earthly imagination. The place was teeming with life. An underground jungle with sufficient bioluminescence to make it seem like day and more than enough biodiversity to rival the most beautiful of Earth’s rainforests.

  A pistol jabbed at Tag’s back and broke him from his awestruck trance. The harsh realities of his captivity and injury flooded back. He held his injured shoulder, and the pirates guided him through a path between the enormous tree trunks.

  “What is this place?” he cried.

  He was met with more responses from his captors that sounded like hisses and static.

  Maybe, if he took off through the shrubs and tangled roots, he could lose the pirates in the dense foliage. But one of them seemed to sense his thoughts. The pirate grabbed his upper arm and forced him to continue with them. They soon made it to a clearing. A multitude of metal structures had been constructed around the glowing plain. The structures were squat and square shaped, lined up in rows like a miniature city, decidedly out of place and crass in the woodland. A few vehicles, strangely shaped, were parked on the waving grass. Dark shapes moved between the vehicles and structures.

  Tag thought they were wearing suits like his captors.

  As they drew closer, he realized he’d been mistaken. Most weren’t wearing full armor suits.

  And they weren’t human.

  His knees buckled, and he almost crumpled. The pirate holding his arm tugged him and barked at him in his shrill, incomprehensible voice. The people around him weren’t any kind of people Tag had ever seen. They wore fitted black pants, but their bodies were covered with a short layer of black fur.

  And their limbs. Each arm seemed to bend at angles that made Tag cringe. No human, without considerable genetic modification, could ever exhibit that flexibility. Their fingers were long and thin, moving as if they were jointed like a snake’s spine.

  He wasn’t the only one that was staring. They gazed back at him, pausing whatever they were doing, their yellow lizard-like eyes calmly measuring him up. A shiver snuck through him. Their faces appeared almost reptilian, except for the fur. No external ears poked off the sides of their skulls—just small holes in the sides of their heads. They had no prominent noses, though Tag spied slits he could only assume were nostrils. Long, thin lips cut across their faces. They looked like some peculiar amalgam of human and snake.

  One of Tag’s captors waved at an approaching snake-person with a single working eye. The other eye appeared glossy and scarred over, along with the rest of its battered face. The scarred snake-person opened its mouth, and something between a hiss and a series of clicks echoed out.

  The pirate took off its helmet. Its face appeared just like that of the other people milling around this underground base. It shoved Tag forward, and the scarred snake-person caught him. He hissed then turned, leading Tag abruptly away from the three suited people. The other two had taken off their helmets and trudged back to one of the dark metal buildings.

  “Where are you taking me?” Tag asked the snake-person, his voice coming out raspy.

  The snake-person looked at Tag with its one good eye narrowed. It gave no vocal response but continued guiding Tag. It motioned for him to remove his helmet. But Tag didn’t trust these people, and he didn’t trust the sensors. Just because there was enough oxygen in the air didn’t mean there wasn’t some unknown poison waiting to kill him.

  Yet as the snake-person guided him away from the base and onto another path, Tag got the feeling this person didn’t want to harm him. The snake-person had one hand on his shoulder, but it didn’t squeeze. There was no pistol pressed to his back.

  Something else bothered him. He felt eyes watching him from between the branches and vines. But everywhere he looked, he saw nothing but glowing plants or large insect-like creatures meandering over the underbrush.

  While Tag heard more birdcalls, buzzing insects, and gurgling water, there was another sound growing louder. It seemed like the rhythmic drumbeat he’d heard earlier was becoming more intense and furious with each step they took.

  The pounding of the drums grew louder. Each beat reverberated in his chest and made him wince. The roar of a waterfall grew in concert with the drumming. The cacophony became loud enough to pierce Tag’s EVA suit, and he cringed, wishing he could put his hands over his ears. He almost thought about taking off his helmet so he could do just that, but he couldn’t bring himself to trust this snake-person, or the atmosphere.

  They soon passed by the noise’s source. Tag expected to see the snake-people situated in some kind of odd drum circle. Instead, there was only a giant machine. Primitive, really. It was constructed of timber that appeared to have been cut from the luminescent trees of the underground rain forest. The waterfall powered a wooden water wheel. As the wheel spun, it activated a large arm with a counterweight. The arm acted as a drumstick and pounded against a massive leather hide stretched taut. The entire drumhead seemed at least eight meters across. Tag’s mouth went agape—the hide consisted of a single piece of leather. He'd hate to run into the creature that hide had come from.

  The snake-person didn’t seem a bit distracted by the contraption. He guided Tag onward as they trudged over fallen leaves and snaking roots. They left the racket of the drum-machine behind and started winding through a narrower path. Tag definitely felt eyes on him now. He could see shapes flit between the trees. But these shapes were shorter and squatter than the snake-people.

  Must be another alien race, Tag thought. His senses and mind were overloaded by so many new sights and sounds. He was certain the scent of this foreign environment would overwhelm him should he finally take his helmet off.

  But every foreign creature and plant he’d seen so far hadn’t prepared him for what stood waiting for him at the end of the path.

  A woman. A real, human woman.

  CHAPTER TWENTY-EIGHT

  She stood there with a half smirk and wore a standard-issue SRE bodysuit with the sleeves and legs
cut short. Dried white paint with red stripes covered her skin, and she peered at him with gleaming brown eyes beneath the face paint. Her coffee-colored hair was tied up, presumably to cope with the heat of the jungle. Tag felt an almost unquenchable urge to run to her, as if they were old friends. He hadn’t expected the overwhelming emotions flooding him at the sight of another human being, alive and in front of him. But he restrained himself.

  “You’re the anthropologist. The lieutenant. Dr. Sofia Vasquez,” Tag managed.

  “Yeah, that sounds a bit pretentious. Just call me Sofia.” With no EVA mask of her own, he could clearly see the shallow furrows in her brow when she said, “Welcome to the Forest of Light on Eta-Five.”

  “Aptly named,” Tag said, still in shock.

  “Sure is. There’s no such thing as day or night down here. It’s like staying at a hotel in New Vegas on the main strip. And as much as I’m looking forward to getting back to Earth and doing some vacationing, I thought I had another two days before rendezvous. Or did I not properly keep track of the time?”

  “Yes ... yes ... that’s right,” Tag said. Words jumbled over his tongue as he struggled for what to say next. So much had happened, and he had so many questions. But he figured he’d start with the most immediate. He turned to the scarred snake-person and then back to the woman. “These people tried to kill me. Are they friendly to you?”

  The woman laughed. “Friendly isn’t the word I’d use to describe them in the colloquial sense.”

  Tag stepped back from the snake-person.

  “But don’t worry. I don’t think they’ll hurt you.”

  “They already shot me!” Tag said.

  The snake-person’s mouth opened, and he emitted a series of rushed noises that sounded vaguely like words. Vasquez’s eyes went wide as if she understood what he was saying. She held her hands out in a supplicating gesture. “Ah, there must’ve been some mistake then, yes?”

  The snake-person’s nostrils flared, and more mangled words escaped his lips. Tag stared at him with his brow scrunched. He tried to discern the snake-person’s intent to no avail.

  Vasquez must’ve seen his expression. “Ah, wait a second.” She reached into a pocket and pulled out a small device. “Still got a few backups. No good ET anthropologist leaves home without one.”

  Tag held out his gloved hand, and she dropped the tiny device into it. He recognized its purpose.

  “Need to take that helmet off first,” she said.

  The moment of truth. Tag undid the latches under his helmet and lifted it. He took a timid breath. Just enough to test the air. Nothing tasted poisonous, and Vasquez seemed to be fine. He sucked in deeper and almost choked on the sweetness. All the smells of the foliage and fresh water and rich soil overwhelmed him, and he coughed.

  “Ah, I never forgot my first breath,” Vasquez said. “Intoxicating, isn’t it?”

  Tag tried to nod as he recovered from his coughing fit. Once he breathed normally again and realized he wouldn’t suffocate, he placed the small device Vasquez had given him in his ear canal. It fit snugly and, once in place, emitted a short hiss of static. Then it went quiet.

  “Is this thing working?” he asked.

  “I don’t know. You tell me, human,” the snake-person said, glaring at him.

  Tag almost jumped in surprise. He calmed his hammering heart and looked back at the snake-person. “Can you ... can you understand me?”

  He thought he saw the snake-person roll his good eye. “Of course. Our technology is far more sophisticated than yours. It’s simple enough to pick up on the primitive nuances of human languages.”

  With that settled, Tag’s mind raced. “What do you intend to do with me?”

  The snake-person held a slender hand over his narrow chest. “Me? I’d prefer to have nothing to do with you. But Sofia insisted we bring you down as soon as we realized you were a human.” The snake-person shrugged. “Surprised to see you here at all, to be honest.”

  Tag looked for a further explanation, but the snake-person didn’t give him one.

  “We’ve got a lot of catching up to do.” Sofia paused, cocked her head, and squinted at the name badge on his EVA suit. “Lieutenant Commander Brewer, chief medical officer. Not a name I recognize from the rendezvous committee.”

  “Like you said, we’ve got a lot of catching up to do.” Tag was ready to start his story, but Sofia held a hand up.

  “We really can’t get into this now.” She motioned to her painted body. “If we don’t make our hosts happy, there won’t be time to tell stories.”

  “But—”

  A sardonic grin crossed her face, and she nodded at the snake-person. “No, really, we can’t leave them waiting. Just ask Coren how he got his scars.”

  The snake-person, Coren, made no reply, staying straight lipped and serious.

  Tag couldn’t tell if he should believe Sofia. “I take it you didn’t come to this planet to study his people.”

  Coren let out a gruff exhalation that sounded derisive to Tag. “Study us? Ha, not on this damned planet.”

  “Then—”

  “Come on,” Sofia said, leading them on. She gave Tag a grave look. “You need to be quiet from here on out. Not a goddamned word unless I tell you. Got it?”

  Tag nodded. “Understood.”

  “There’s a catch to you being here. And the only way you’ll live is if you do exactly what I say.”

  Tag frowned at Coren. “I thought you weren’t going to hurt me.”

  “Not me. Not my people,” Coren said.

  “Let’s move,” Vasquez said. “We don’t have much time, and I’ve got to introduce you to the Forinths.”

  CHAPTER TWENTY-NINE

  A low humming sounded around the woods. It was like the buzzing of insect wings, but Tag swore it was coming from the round shapes shadowing them from the trees. He tried to get a better look at these beings, but they seemed to fade into the foliage every time he thought he’d spotted one. As they walked, he worked on the wrist terminal interface of the EVA suit, overriding the controls for the healing salve and painkiller doses. The cool wave of both concoctions flowing through his vessels made his shoulders relax, and he sighed with relief. But his mind continued whirring at a breakneck pace.

  He had questions, so many questions, for Sofia and Coren. But the expression on Sofia’s face had made the warning quite clear. He trudged behind her, holding his aching shoulder and wondering when he’d finally get some answers.

  Tag walked near Sofia. She grabbed his upper arm, puffed out her chest, and marched with determination.

  From the corner of her mouth, she spoke. “This is going to be weird. You’re going to be scared. But just don’t say anything or scream or anything. Don’t protest. Don’t struggle. They’re going—”

  She stopped mid-sentence and started humming a low, sweeping melody. Coren joined in, looking straight ahead.

  Tag was confused but attempted to display only stoicism in his expression and gait. The song Coren and Sofia sang was accompanied by several other voices. Through his periphery, Tag tried to identify the source of the swelling chorus, but once again, he saw only shadows moving between the tree trunks and shrubbery.

  The other voices grew and bolstered the haunting melody. Goosebumps formed along Tag’s skin. It wasn’t from the temperature. Gods, no. Definitely not the temperature. As they marched on, as the voices began to crescendo, the air grew thick with hot humidity and the rotten stink of sulfur. Sweat matted Sofia’s dark hair, and beads rolled down her neck. But she made no move to wipe them. Perspiration dripped over Tag’s face. An instinctual urge begged him to clear the sweat, but Sofia’s warnings echoed in his mind. He carried on, silent and anxious.

  Soon the pathway opened to a clearing. The wide space wasn’t illuminated by luminescent grass or glowing fronds. The soil was barren and dark. In the middle of the open circle was a single mound. But it was no innocuous bump in the dirt. A hole, at least ten meters across, belched
steam and yellow gas. Orange and red light flickered from it like a fire was burning from within.

  A volcano, Tag thought. Small, sure. But a volcano nonetheless.

  Tag had to remind himself to breathe. He sucked in a mouthful of air. It was wretched. A metallic taste lingered in his mouth with each inhalation. The closer they came to the incipient volcano, the louder the music from the woods became. Soon it was no longer humming but unbridled singing. The melodic voices rang out with a rich range, from the deepest lows to the highest highs. The music almost carried Tag away, threatening to put him into a stupor.

  But he reminded himself he was in danger. Whatever beauty might be found in this music was outweighed by the threat to his life Sofia had warned about.

  Sofia and Coren came to a stop. Both still humming in tune with the ghostly choir, they motioned for him to stand between them. He took a single step and stood, frozen and silent.

  The entire clearing shimmered. Tag fought back a surprised gasp. Glowing red eyes appeared first, then the shimmering settled like falling snow. Creatures seemed to teleport around him all at once.

  No, it wasn’t teleportation.

  He realized these creatures had been here all along. But they were like chameleons, capable of altering the color of their flesh to blend in. Their bodies were slender and small, and they had bulbous heads. Each eye shifted colors as they all stared at Tag. He felt unprotected and naked despite his EVA suit. Their hypnotizing, color-changing eyes flashed, trance-like. Then their entire bodies lit up in bursts of fluorescent colors.