Star Cruise: Marooned: (A Sectors SF Romance)

by Veronica Scott

  Callina helped herself with no further hesitation, making a pouch with the skirt of her sundress and pouring several handfuls into the makeshift bowl.

  Meg said, “Generally, most things on the planet are edible for humans. It’s the wildlife that tends to be poisonous here.” The berries had a delightful tang to them and the fiber of the seeds and skins was filling. “Any sign of pursuit?” Meg asked, going for her third helping after a refreshing swallow of the cold morning condensation he’d collected.

  Tossing a berry high into the air and catching between his teeth, Red shook his head. “But we need to remain on high alert. It’s fortunate the forest grows in the direction we want to go.”

  “I think the trees cover pretty much all of this continent,” Meg said.

  “If we stay marooned forever, maybe we can start a tree-dwelling civilization.” Callina’s voice held undeniable sarcasm.

  A few minutes later, the group resumed hiking along the branches like veterans, traveling as directly west as possible. At times, a detour was required, climbing or descending to reach main branches growing in the correct heading, but overall progress was steady. Despite Red’s warning earlier, Meg was relaxed and concentrating on the uneven bark under her feet when something large, making no sound other than a low hum, soared overhead. Above the treetops, the craft blocked the sun.

  “Get to the nearest trunk and stay down,” Red ordered.

  Meg grabbed Callina and hustled to do as he wanted. Red joined them a moment later. Mr. Bettis huddled close to the tree that Meg and his wife had just traveled from. Trever put his back to a tree trunk and closed his eyes, hands clenched on protuberances in the bark, as if he was afraid a tractor beam was going to sweep the area and pull him into captivity.

  “A Shemdylann ship?” Meg whispered, as the flyer lazily passed from view to the east. “Will they find us?”

  “I hope not.” Red kept scanning the sky. “I hope he’s merely doing a few sweeps to say he made an effort.”

  The five humans stayed motionless for a good ten minutes by Meg’s chrono, and when the enemy ship didn’t return, continued on their journey.

  At times, Meg thought this would have made a superb nature tour, worth as many credits as a visit to the Falls. The route took them through gorgeous areas of flowering vines, with jewel-like insects flitting in and out of the blooms. From a distance, Meg saw several small troops of the monkeylike climbers, grooming, eating, and sleeping. A few sentinel animals bared fangs at them, but apparently the humans were far enough away—or Red was imposing enough—preventing the creatures from initiating a territorial fight. Red hustled them through those areas as fast as he dared. Here and there a tree snake was coiled, the gorgeously tinted menace hugging its chosen branch. Meg insisted on sidetracking far out of their way to avoid any proximity to the snakes.

  Red offered to kill one and cook it for lunch and she shuddered, clutching her stomach. “I’m not that desperate yet, thank you.”

  A flight of red and yellow song birds with long tails swooped over the branch, startling them so much Callina slipped and nearly fell before Red grabbed her arm.

  The deeper Meg traveled into the forest, the more astounded she was by the quantity and beauty of the winged residents. All sizes and types of birds appeared to inhabit the area, from tiny jeweled sap drinkers to giant birds of prey with twelve foot wingspans, drifting on the air currents among the trees.

  When Red called a halt for a midmorning break, he picked a spot close to a spectacular blanket of purple flowers growing on a nearby tree, cascading toward the ground, anchored by stout roots dug deep into the living tree. There were all types of birds drinking the nectar or hunting the lacy-winged insects hovering amid the blooms. The volume of bird songs was amazing. One of the red and yellow songsters flew to a small branch above them and trilled a crystalline run of notes.

  Callina cleared her throat, stood and launched into a song in her bell-like soprano, more beautiful than Meg had ever heard from a human, not even on opera trideos of famous Inner Sector singers. Although Meg was far from being an expert on music, Mrs. Bettis had a range of at least three octaves. The song soared so high Meg’s pulse pounded, and then there was an astonishing run of phrases, the pitch constantly changing to delight the ear, but sung at full volume. She glanced at Red, worried he might object to the unnecessary sound, but he gave every sign of enjoying the unusual performance. By the time their fellow refugee had finished her aria, with lingering notes, the closest branches were filled with songbirds of all colors and descriptions, heads tilted as the flock absorbed the concert. The humans applauded and Mr. Bettis gave his wife a kiss.

  She curtseyed to the birds, who rose in a wave of noisy, kaleidoscopic colors, swirling through the nearby branches and going about their normal business.

  “Amazing,” Meg said. “Where did you learn to sing so beautifully?”

  The passenger blushed. “I was in training at the Sector Fine Arts Academy because my stepfather had finally agreed that my voice was good enough to merit professional training.” She had a rueful smile. “I was an asset, you understand? I entertained at some of his charity galas—he supported the school with scholarships. And paid my tuition, of course. I met Peter while we were making the arrangements for the various charity events and the concerts, and well, one thing led to another. This cruise was supposed to be our delayed honeymoon.”

  “I’m a lucky man.” Mr. Bettis straightened his back and raised his chin.

  “Not to dampen the mood—because I enjoyed the song as much as the birds did,” said Red. “A rare treat. But we need to move out. Save your breath, Ma’am, and perhaps you can sing us a concert once we’re safe at the research facility.”

  “Of course.” Basking in their praise, Callina was as happy as Meg had ever seen her.

  Twice more that morning, however, the sky darkened overhead and the Shemdylann shuttle made another pass in their area.

  “This isn’t good,” Red said. “I think they’re reading something on their scanners here, despite interference from the vegetation. We’re probably lucky Crxtahl is sailing under direct orders from the Mawreg overlords. His bosses won’t want him to linger on this planet, and won’t appreciate him scorching the forest to ash, wasting armament trying to swat flies with a flame thrower.”

  Meg stared at him. “Would the Shemdylann destroy the rain forest? Just to keep the five of us from escaping?”

  “In a heartbeat.” Eyebrows raised, Red seemed surprised at her astonishment. “Intergalactic war isn’t a game. It’s played for keeps on a grand scale. We’ve burned off entire planets and so has the other side. And I’m afraid the commander’s considerable ego is involved, since he’s got a ship searching for us. Shemdylann attain and keep rank through ruthless success, and defeating constant challenges from ambitious subordinates. He can’t afford to be seen as weak. I was hoping he’d be smart enough to deflect criticism from his troops for losing us, but when were the Shemdylann ever big thinkers?”

  Wondering if she’d ever find out more about the experiences he’d endured in his years of service, she said nothing. He seemed so well versed on the enemy.

  “You four stay here and be ready to move when I say so.” Drawing the blaster, Red ran at full speed in the direction they’d come.

  “What’s he doing?” Callina asked.

  “I have no idea.” Meg was as puzzled as the others, but she was grateful for a chance to rest.

  Moments later, a terrible shrieking filled the air, coming from the same direction Red had gone. At the same moment, the Shemdylann ship drifted by for the fourth time, close to the treetops, which were another hundred feet or so above Meg’s head. She cringed, as if making herself smaller would save her from detection by the enemy. The noise in the trees came closer and she worried about what kind of threat might be approaching. Hands over her ears to block the yelling, which seemed to be from a large number of creatures, she hunkered down.

  “Shouldn�
�t we get out of here?” Mr. Bettis shouted, arms locked around his terrified wife. “Whatever’s moving this way sounds worse than the Shemdylann. And the threat is here in the trees with us right this minute.”

  Meg shook her head. “Red said to wait here.”

  “You’re in command, not him,” Bettis said, pointing his finger at her.

  She glared until he averted his eyes. “And I trust his combat skills. Stay here as ordered.”

  “Fuck this, you fools can wait here to see what’s about to overrun us, I’m moving out.” Trever sprinted away from them, running full tilt along a sturdy branch. “Every man for himself today.”

  Frustrated, Meg turned away. She couldn’t abandon the others to chase him. He’d made his choice, and she hoped he wouldn’t regret it.

  Mouth open in surprise, Callina stood, pointing. “Lords of Space, it’s some sort of stampede.”

  A troop of the tree-dwelling mammals was running along the branches and swinging on vines through the open spaces. The screaming and yelling came from the fleeing animals, green-blue fur on end and curly striped tails spiraled close to their bodies. Ears flat against their skulls, fangs bared, the troop of enraged beasts came in a wave.

  Meg shrank back, pulling Callina with her. She realized Red was driving the creatures, using carefully aimed, short blasts from the blaster. He was hitting branches in close proximity to the troop to speed the laggards’ progress and head the leaders in the direction he wanted. As the flood of angry animals reached the next tree trunk to the east, Red spaced his shots to force the alpha to climb instead of continuing on to where Meg and the others waited. Standing directly below the chittering, complaining animals, he whipped them into a frenzy with a few more well-placed shots at the heels of the rearguard climbing toward the crown of the tree. Meg heard the engines of the Shemdylann ship again.

  “Run!” Red yelled, not taking his eyes off the animals. He fired a few more blasts to keep them motivated, and sprinted after Meg.

  “The tree climbers’ll emerge from the foliage right under the ship’s scanners,” he said, running so easily right on her heels that she was jealous of his stamina. “I’m betting the pirates will be fooled into thinking they’ve been tracking the animals all this time. Worth wasting some blaster charge if we can decoy the enemy away.”

  “Clever. We’re tree climbing mammals too,” she said.

  “Exactly.” He took her elbow to help her navigate a huge knothole in the branch she was travelling. “Shemdylann scanners aren’t well calibrated. Or at least the tech wasn’t up to par last time I was on an operation downrange.”

  Meg stopped with a shriek as something heavy hit the branch right in front of her. She realized a heartbeat later it was Trever, sprawled across the wood like a broken doll. Red moved in front of her and knelt by the body. “I wondered where he’d gone.”

  “He refused to wait with us when you were driving the animals in our direction,” Meg said.

  Red had his fingers pressed to Trever’s neck. “He’s dead.”

  Retreating a step, hand to her mouth, Meg said “Did the pirates kill him somehow?”

  Aiming the blaster at the body, Red fired a short burst of low intensity fire at something on the dead man’s arm. “Spiders!”

  Callina shrieked as a cluster of fist-sized, yellow-and-black arachnids scuttled away from Trever’s corpse, scattering along the branch and taking shelter in nearby nooks and crannies of the bark. Meg yanked her backpack off and swiped at a particularly large specimen crawling in her direction, dropping bag and spider into the two hundred foot void below the branch. Shuddering, she followed the passengers to the tree they’d left, where the three of them huddled close to the reassuring bulk of the trunk for a moment. More slowly, Red joined them, scanning the branch as he came.

  “How do you suppose Trever tangled with those?” Meg asked.

  “He was always careless about tearing through the hanging vines growing in our path, rather than detouring,” Red said. “I untangled him more than once, remember? He just wanted to bull through them or any other obstacle like he did to the human opponents in his playing days. We’ve seen a lot of insects, so I’m betting the spiders live in the foliage as well. He must have disturbed a nest.”

  “And like everything native to Dantaralon, the spiders are evidently poisonous.” Callina gave the nearest cascade of brightly colored flowers draped over a nearby branch a nervous glance, edging closer to her husband.

  “What are you going to do with the—with Trever?” Bettis asked. “We can’t leave him here.”

  “I don’t have time for burial detail, nor am I about to carry a corpse hundreds of feet to the ground. We leave him.” Red’s tone was uncompromising. “I’m concerned about saving the living while we still have time.”

  “Some ancient cultures arranged their dead in trees or on platforms,” Callina said unexpectedly. “To be closer to the Lords of Space.” As the others swung to give her their attention, she added, “Or whoever their deity was.”

  Meg seized on the idea. “If we can cover him with small branches maybe? And say a few words? Then it won’t be so harsh, just…walking away.”

  Red grumbled, but obliged her by moving Trever’s body to lie against the nearest trunk, and then took her knife to slash small branches in the vicinity, which the others piled in a fragrant mound over their late companion. Meg commended his spirit to the keeping of the Lords of Space and Red had them on the move again as soon as she uttered the final words.

  Callina didn’t offer to sing.

  Red steered them north for about an hour before correcting their course to the westerly heading again. It seemed his stratagem had worked, because they didn’t see the Shemdylann shuttle, which was a relief.

  But relief never lasted too long on this voyage, Meg reflected, while resting during a lunch break. “Am I seeing things, or is it getting dark early today?”

  “Kinda windy too,” Callina said. “Worse than yesterday, anyhow.”

  Meg and Callina exclaimed in unison, “Storm!” Meg grabbed Red’s arm. “How many cells were you and Drewson tracking when we landed?”

  “Two, with a third one beginning the process of coalescing around an eye.” He stood, tilting his head in an effort to peer through the canopy of leaves and branches above them. “I think I see clouds. Guess I’d better shinny a bit higher and verify. You keep walking. I’ll be along soon.”

  Meg took him aside as the Bettis couple scrambled to identify the next branch and hike per orders. “If there’s a storm brewing like the one we had at the ranger station, how are we going to shelter?” She stared at the forest surrounding them. “We’ll never make it here. The wind must howl through these branches. And the last storm took down a tree as big as these. Would conditions ground level be any better? Should we descend for the night?”

  “One problem at a time. First, let me see if there is a weather threat.” Brow furrowed, eyes narrowed, he climbed to the next higher branch and kept going.

  All too soon, he rejoined them, dropping on the branch in front of Meg like a big cat. “Major storm on the way all right. The front is blowing in fast.”

  “Can we tie ourselves together with the vines? Maybe lash ourselves to a tree?” Mr. Bettis asked.

  “We could, but keeping ourselves from blowing away in the gale wouldn’t solve the problem of the rain. At these wind speeds, the droplets will hit like projectiles.” Red frowned at Callina’s sundress over a swimsuit. “We’re not exactly dressed for a storm.”

  “Let’s keep moving, see if we come across anything we can use for shelter, maybe a hollow tree or dense branches, perhaps closer to the ground,” Meg said. “The first thing we find, we settle in.”

  “Agreed. I’ll scout ahead.” Red was off, moving faster than Meg would have dared, supremely confident of his balance.

  She led the two passengers after him at a more deliberate pace. The breeze was definitely picking up, buffeting her from odd directions a
s she hiked along the branches.

  Then Red was there, broad grin on his face. “You won’t believe what I’ve found for shelter.”

  Half annoyed, Meg was astounded at his amusement, given their tight situation, caught in the open with a storm about to pummel them any minute. “What?”

  His expression grew even more mischievous. “Oh, no, you have to see it to believe it. But the entrance is tricky, so we need to hurry before the winds intensify.”

  A few moments later he brought them to a halt where one of the giant trees had forked into three trunks. Built securely into the fork was an odd structure, like a small hut, maybe fifteen feet across and five feet high, made of woven twigs, dried mud, and other materials. The breeze pushing at her didn’t so much as stir the dwelling.

  Meg examined the odd construction from various angles, holding her hair out of her face with difficulty. “Is it a nest of some sort?”

  Red nodded. “Probably built by those birds of prey. Remember the ones gliding on the thermals above us yesterday? The nest is big enough to accommodate their wingspan.”

  Her memory crystal clear on the menacing knifelike talons and beaks on the largest birds she’d seen, Meg was concerned. “Won’t the current owners be upset at us moving in?”

  “I’ve checked it out already. Either the nest was never occupied or else it’s been abandoned for a long time. It’s clean, not even feathers, no sign of previous tenants.”

  “I’m not riding out a storm like the one we had before in some bird’s nest,” said Callina, eyebrows raised to her hairline. “Are you crazy?”

  “It’s obviously been here a long time and survived many a storm intact,” Red informed her. "Unless the tree falls, we’ll be fine. The birds or whoever built this thing anchored it to the tree with mud and vines. The mud dried to a stone-like consistency and the vines have taken root in the tree itself. Clever construction—never underestimate Mother Nature’s ingenuity. There’s nowhere else and we’ve got to get under cover in the next few minutes.” He appealed to Meg.