“You were in trouble,” Nyara added.
“What do you want from me? Thanks?”
“I don’t expect I’m going to receive any.”
“Then elves must have a sixth sense or something.” Blake started back toward the entrance to the silo. “Now, come on. We need to strap in. Skreet still has to put us down, and it was a mess up there.”
Without waiting to see if Nyara was following, Blake made his way back into the corridor, steadying himself as the RV once again rocked violently to one side. When he emerged into the communal area, Maddox, Uldo and Cid were already secured in their seats with safety harnesses.
“Welcome back,” said Maddox.
Blake grunted and swung around to look at the viewing panels. By his estimate, the RV was less than three hundred feet from the tops of the trees now. Nyara came to stand next to him and said, “We’re not going to reach our landing site, are we?”
Blake didn’t need to respond. It didn’t take a genius to work out they were coming in too fast.
“Okay,” he said, and headed for one of the nearby seats. “Everyone better brace.” He sat down and slung the safety harness over his head. Nyara slipped into another chair opposite and was soon similarly secured. Blake looked back to the viewing screens. Trees were rushing up to meet them.
Then Skreet’s voice came over the speakers: “Keep your heads down, folks! This might be a little…”
The voice crackled away. Blake grabbed hold of his harness against his chest. Briefly, he locked eyes with Nyara. Then the first impact came.
5
Everyone was thrown forward when the RV struck the tops of the trees, splintering and flattening them as it ploughed toward landfall. Inside, the sound was like a bomb had gone off. Blake grimaced as his back sang with pain. The ship juddered again, more crashes reverberating through the hull, the whirling yellow beacons above them flickering and going out completely. Blaring alarms silenced. An acrid, smoky darkness filled the communal area, save for the stuttering, ghostly light of the viewing panes. Then these shut off too and Blake found himself jostled in his seat, aware only of his breathing and the pain in his shoulder and legs. He briefly thought of Kaylen, as he always did in moments of crisis, searching in his memory for her soft grey eyes to calm him. But her image was spirited away as everyone was heaved to one side again, their straps creaking, pummelling hammer blows tearing at the ship. Blake closed his eyes. There followed an ear-splitting whine, until all the cacophony ceased abruptly, and an eerie stillness descended.
ELEVEN
1
It took a while before the lights winked on inside the RV. A thin haze of biting smoke hung in the air, and Blake coughed thinly. Through the murk, the first fellow passenger he saw was Cid, who’s implacable green eye simply glowed at him unflinchingly. The golem didn’t appear to be damaged in any way, which was no surprise. Not that the same could be said for all of them, for as Blake turned to Maddox, he saw a thin rivulet of blood running down his face. It looked as though something had been dislodged and struck him during the landing. At least he was conscious, though, and even managed to give Blake a crooked smile.
“Any of your tours touchdown like this?” he said.
Blake acknowledged the comment by nodding tiredly, before looking across to the dwarf who was already unclipping his harness.
“Wonderful!” Uldo groused. “Now what do we do? Those things have messed up the mission already!”
“Take it easy.” Blake grappled for the catch on his safety belt. “Let’s at least see what damage has been done before we jump to any conclusions.”
Next to him, Nyara had also shaken herself free and was coughing behind her hand. Standing up from her chair, she had to lean to one side. The RV was tilted, as if it were slumped.
“It doesn’t look good though, does it?” she said. “What if we can’t get the RV back in the air?”
“Then we’re screwed,” Blake replied matter-of-factly, grimacing as he leaned out of his chair, his knees biting. He wafted a hand before his face, clearing the smoke, and added, “Just wait here while I check on Skreet.”
2
Skreet was already clambering out of the cockpit by the time Blake reached him. He looked greener than usual, although seemed otherwise unharmed.
“Some landing,” were Blake’s first words to his friend. “You okay?”
“Oh, I’m candy,” came the goblin’s disgruntled reply.
“Dandy,” Blake corrected, but Skreet was in no mood for a lesson on Earth idioms.
“Blake, half the console is lighting up back there,” he complained. “There’s damage to one of the thrusters, the landing gear under the left wing is mangled, and there may be two or three possible breaches in the hull. That’s not to mention what those wyverns did to the rest of the ship.”
“Yeah, but can it be fixed?”
Skreet sighed. “I ain’t sure. I need to take a look around the perimeter. There may be other things to find, but the landing gear ain’t so much of a problem. It’s if we can get ourselves airborne again.”
“Okay. Well, it’s not exactly like we have much choice. The permits give us less than a standard week. If we don’t break atmosphere by then we’ll be picked up.”
“I know, I know.”
“So do you have any idea where we are?”
Skreet glanced back to the cockpit, as if he could read the nav con from where he was standing. “Can’t be sure. Maybe twenty klicks east of the designated landing zone.”
So they weren’t too many miles off course at least, Blake thought, and that was something. It just depended on whether they had the necessary equipment and parts to get the RV airborne again.
“Make whatever assessment you need,” Blake said. “But try and do it quickly, okay? The sooner we can get off this rock the better for everyone.”
“Sure thing. Just need to shut off the spectral disruptors.”
“Fine. I’ll tell the others where we’re up to.”
When Blake stepped back into the gallery above the communal area, he found his companions waiting restlessly for his return. The fog of smoke had cleared a little and the large spinning hologram of Terevell had trembled fitfully back into life, shedding a stuttering pale light over the room.
“Well?” Uldo demanded as Blake climbed down the steps.
“Skreet is going to check the perimeter to make a more thorough assessment of the damage. But the long and short of it is, the RV isn’t going anywhere soon. It needs work. Hopefully Skreet has all he needs to fix it.”
“And if he doesn’t?” Maddox asked.
“Then we’re stuck here, unless there’s any other way we can get off Terevell.”
“And is there?”
“Just that old ranger outpost we mentioned before,” Blake shrugged. “Maybe they still keep an old Hopper up there we can use.”
“Yes, but I thought we only had five days to pull this off,” said Uldo. “Didn’t you say it was a ten-day hike to the outpost?”
“Something like that,” Blake admitted. “And even if we hiked day and night and somehow managed to get there in time, there is the matter of transferring the border codes.”
“So we’re in the hands of your little mechanic then,” said Maddox.
“Looks that way,” Blake said.
“Then he’d better be worth replacing Reniss is all I can say,” Uldo grunted. “Otherwise, I’ll have something to say about it.”
3
Once Skreet had powered down all of the unnecessary systems, and some which he worried might cause more problems if he left them functioning, he arrived in the communal area ready to make his assessment of the damage outside. Blake suggested everyone stay and wait while he accompanied Skreet. But Nyara, and to his surprise, Maddox, insisted they follow. Blake was too tired to protest, although he was beginning to get uncomfortable with Nyara’s eagerness to shadow him wherever he went.
They congregated at the airlock. With none of the cameras working
to give them a picture of the outside, and those portholes with a view showing little more than a canopy of blue-tinged leaves, Blake had insisted everyone arm themselves for the recon.
“The landing might have attracted a bit of interest, after all,” he said.
The airlock hissed as the pinions disengaged. Popping out of its housing, the doors parted, and a mixture of odours invaded the RV from the outside: rich, turned soil, the sweet smell of fresh air, and the almost tea-like tang of damp leaves. There were sounds, too, and many of them as familiar to Blake as nature’s harmonies of his youth: distant bird song, the rustling of vegetation, the occasional call of something larger but more distant. Not that Terevell was the same as Earth. He had to remind himself of that every time he stepped foot on the planet. It was like a dream of his home world; that uncanny sense of alien difference and primal familiarity that haunted every human who came here.
“Blake?” murmured Skreet. “You okay?”
Blake refocused. “Hmm?” The goblin was staring up at him, a slight shadow of concern on his face. “Oh. Yeah. Fine. Let’s go.”
Stepping past Skreet, Blake led the way, clinging onto the doorjamb as he stepped up onto the rim of the airlock. He looked down. There was a drop of about ten feet onto the ground below. He would have to lower one of the ladders pinned to the outer skin of the ship beside the door. But first he leaned out and scanned the surrounding area.
There was a lot of destruction. The RV had taken out a wide avenue of trees as it had come into land, some of them shorn of their leaves, or splintered by the impact, or thrown aside in its wake. Then, as the ship had hit the ground, it had ploughed a deep furrow through the earth until finally it had come to rest. Now it was slightly tilted against a huge, fallen log, the cockpit windows spared as the nose had thrown up a mound of wet earth. There was a pall of oily smoke still hanging in the air behind the craft from choked out thrusters, caught in the twinkling of bright sunlight that speared through the canopy. Brightly coloured insects danced lazily through the air or settled in gloriously brilliant flowers that hadn’t been flattened in the impact.
“Everything okay out there?” Maddox said from behind.
“Seems to be.” Blake clutched at one of the ladders, uncoupled the pins, and let it drop within a couple of feet from the ground. He swung out and climbed down.
The others followed. Skreet came next and immediately scrambled off in the direction of the fuselage, tutting to himself. Nyara dropped to the ground lightly and took a deep, cleansing breath. Blake realised how difficult it must have been for the elf to be away from her home. Every hour her kind spent on foreign soil meant the beginning of her slow degeneration. It would be subtle at first, then, over time, everything less long-lived creatures took for granted would begin to take its toll. Blake had no idea how long Nyara had been travelling to set up the hunt, but by her reaction he guessed it had been a least a few weeks. Maybe months. And being a resident of the planet himself for a while, Blake could appreciate a little of what she might be feeling. When he’d left the planet all those years ago, he soon began to notice a tiredness creep over him, followed by a malaise that couldn’t have just been explained by Kaylen’s death. At least, that was what he had told himself. It had been one of the factors, although he didn’t care to admit it, which had motivated him to return.
“Boy,” Maddox said. He had been the last to exit the ship and was now standing on the brink of the clearing the RV had made, staring into the forest. “So, this is it, huh? What everyone makes such a fuss about.”
Blake slung his rifle off his shoulder and dragged back the bolt handle, slapping it in place. “You’ve never been here before?” For some reason he was surprised that a man with Maddox’s resources never had a chance.
“You kidding? The closest I managed was Yrin. Smuggled myself aboard a Yrini wheat freighter when I was a younger man. But Ilmaris was always out of reach. I would’ve given anything to take a trip to the Valloran Highlands. It’s said to be something to behold up there.”
“Yeah, well, it would make our lives a whole lot easier if that’s where we were. The Deep Forest is a lot wilder and more dangerous.”
“So Nyara keeps telling me. Still, I have to admit, I feel almost giddy just standing here. Must be something to do with the oxygen levels, eh? All this verdant life must be pumping it out like crazy.”
“No, that’s not it, Mr Maddox,” said Nyara, and both Maddox and Blake turned to consider the elf. Blake noticed the elf was breathing the air deeply, as if she had just emerged from a deep and cloying sleep. “What you’re feeling is the World Tree. It’s enlivening effects.”
“The World Tree?” Maddox frowned.
“The World Tree is all pervading,” Nyara explained. “It calibrates everything on the planet, helping it to function optimally. And in the Deep Forest, the World Tree’s influence is supposed to be even stronger.”
“Yeah, and that’s what I’m afraid of,” said Blake.
“What do you mean?” asked Maddox.
“Only that we’re intruding on one of the World Tree’s most ancient territories, and it might not take so kindly to it. I was up in the White River Mountains in ’86. The elves said Settler’s Fever had nothing to do with the Tree. I’m not so sure.”
“Say, that’s right!” Maddox said. “I remember. Those miners were digging up Deep Right, right Blake? For export to Xoros.”
“That’s what I heard.”
“And you think the World Tree had something to do with their deaths?”
Blake glanced at Nyara. “Ask her.”
The elf lowered her eyes. “The Tree gives, and it takes in equal measure.”
“Which is another way of saying those miners got what they deserved.”
Nyara lifted her piercing eyes again and fixed them directly on Blake. Once again, he was reminded, for all their beauty, how alien the elves were. How inhuman.
Then a voice behind them said, “Well, it’s not good but it’s better than expected…” and the spell was broken.
Skreet appeared through the mist of oily smoke, wiping his hands on his vest, his long claws covered in grease. “Like I thought, the fuselage needs reworking, and there’s quite a bit o’ rewiring to carry out too. But them winged demons stayed away from anything else too vital, so I think I can repair the RV with what I have.”
“Then that’s good news!” said Maddox brightly, his grin returning. “We’re still in the game!”
“Looks that way,” Skreet nodded. “But only if I can get everything fixed up by the time ye get back. And that won’t be easy. At least, not on me own.”
“I’m sure you’re up to the challenge,” said Maddox, “Right, Blake?”
Blake ignored Maddox and said, “We have to know if it’s doable, Skreet. I mean, really. If we set out this afternoon and all goes according to plan, we’ll be back here in five days’ time. If the RV isn’t ready though, that’s a big problem. So? What do you think? Be honest now.”
Skreet sniffed. He glanced back at the RV, ruminating for a moment. Then he said, “Okay. Why not? I’ll have it done.”
“You sure?”
But Maddox interrupted. “He said so, didn’t he? Come on, Blake, light’s a-wastin’. We have a lot of organising to do.” And he headed back toward the ladder.
Nyara followed Maddox, but Blake waited with Skreet until they had clambered inside. Then he turned to the goblin again and said: “Better lay out some perimeter defences before we go. Laser trips and sentry guns. The cloak still working?”
“I think so.”
“Make sure you have it on all the time. Don’t worry about any energy leak.”
“But won’t that just put up a flare to say we’re here?”
“Only if there are any elves close by, and if the disruptors worked no one is going to come looking for us too soon. Hopefully, by the time anyone notices any anomaly we’ll be long gone.”
“Okay, Blake.”
“Also, if
you think there’s a chance you’re going to be intercepted and the RV is up and running, don’t hang around. Take off and get out of here.”
“But I can’t do that!”
“Yes, you can. You have the codes. No sense in all of us ending up in a stasis tank.”
Skreet didn’t look very happy about that idea either. Except this time he didn’t argue. He probably could sense Blake’s obduracy on the matter, so the goblin simply nodded.
“Fine. Right,” said Blake. “I suppose we should start suiting up. Maddox is right, we’re already behind schedule and we need to start marching. Anything you need, just let me know.”
4
It took the party a couple of standard hours to make ready everything they needed for the hike. In the meantime, Skreet set up the perimeter defences, organising a ring of sentry guns on tripods around the stricken RV, and planting trip sensors on the edge of the clearing. He waited until everyone had clambered out of the craft, laden with their packs, before he fired up the cloak shields, throwing down a nebulous, reflective blanket over the craft. Now, most every creature in the immediate area would be fooled into thinking the RV was just another part of the trees around it. And if they became too curious, they would first be discouraged by the laser trips, then the sentry guns.
“Now, you sure you’re going to be okay?” Blake asked the goblin. “Like I said, we won’t be able to interact once we set out. Even if that shield hadn’t been ripped off, we’d have to keep communications silent in case someone was listening in.”
Skreet offered up a none-too-convincing smile. “Sure. I’ll be fine.”
“Because there’s no need to be a hero, understand? If things get hairy you leave if you have to.”
“Don’t worry. I ain’t no hero. If anything hairy comes out of them trees, I won’t look back twice. And break an arm, will ye? That’s what they say, ain’t it? For good luck.”
Return to Dragon Planet: Book one of the Dragon Planet Trilogy Page 13
