She nodded numbly and lowered over the edge. The wall was like black glass. She kicked off and moved down several meters. The geyser struck like a battering ram. Breath left her in a painful oof. She clung to the moss rope as water shunted her to the side. Out of control, she dropped another meter.
The water receded and left her spinning. She struggled to gain her bearings. Her shoulder slammed the crater wall. She closed her eyes.
“Almost there,” she whispered then continued down.
She’d planned to shine her light into the cave before entering in case it was the lair of some beast. But the geyser roared again. Water threw her into the cavern. She landed awkwardly on one hip, her light bouncing over the rock. Several bats fluttered around her head. Up close, they looked like striped kittens with wings. When the cave mouth cleared of water, they flapped outside.
Impani untied the rope. She tugged it twice and called, “I’m down.” The rope reeled in.
With her light aimed before her, she explored the cave. It was small and irregular, perhaps seven meters at its widest point. In places, the ceiling barely cleared her head. As she walked, she heard a steady drip of water. But then the geyser roared again, and she lost the sound.
Without warning, Trace burst through the steaming curtain and sailed feet first into the cave. He landed as neatly as a gymnast. Impani scowled. Her hip still stung from her fall.
He said, “Here’s your rope back. Are we alone in here?”
“It appears so.” She accepted the coiled rope and draped it over her shoulder. “I was investigating the sound of water.” She trained her lamp into the depths of the cave. The geyser ebbed, and she could again hear the musical drip.
The ceiling slanted downward, forcing her to crouch as she followed the sound. At the farthest reaches of the cave, she found a meter-wide basin worn into the floor. It brimmed with liquid.
Her mouth went even drier at the sight. Fumbling through her supplies, she took out her kit and tested the water. “It’s good,” she said in a husky whisper. “We can drink this.”
Trace dropped to his knees. He slid his mask to the top of his head and splashed his face. “That’s better.”
Impani cupped her hands beneath the persistent trickle then scrubbed the remaining salt from her eyes and nose. She removed her flask from her belt, drank it down, filled it from the basin, and drank again. It tasted vaguely sweet. Her empty stomach swelled. Refilling her flask, she sat beside Trace.
“Real Scouts carry a canteen that replenishes itself from humidity,” she said. “Add that to our list of complaints.”
“Yeah.” He motioned at her wrist lamp. “You should save the batteries.”
“Right.” She switched it off. In the darkness, the gushing geyser looked bright. “Why do you know so much about nonpoisonous melons and carnivorous vines?”
He gulped some water then pulled his mask in place. “I grew up on Andromeda Four.”
“You’re a farmer?” But farmers were rich.
“My father’s a farmer. I… left.”
“How did you end up in a penal colony?”
He leaned away and stared.
Impani shrugged. “Everyone knows.”
Silence fell between them, and she thought she’d pushed too far. She leaned against the wall and latched her mask.
He gave a heavy sigh. “I wanted to travel, so I took a job as an off-loader on a freighter. Boring work, but I hoped to see a lot of worlds. That’s what the poster promised, anyway. So on my first night in port, my friends and I were sightseeing. I headed back early. I stumbled across a man assaulting a woman in an alley, and I jumped in to save her. It turned out that the woman was an underage girl and her assailant was a prominent government official. The local authorities needed to hush it up, so they twisted the facts and made it look like I was a vagrant trying to rob him.”
“But the girl was a witness.”
“She refused to testify. Scared, I guess, or maybe they bought her off. So, I was sentenced to hard labor. Then they found out that I’d lied about my age on my application with the freighter. I was sixteen at the time.”
Impani stared at Trace Hanson. She couldn’t have been more wrong about him. “So, the judicial system cut a deal with the colonization program?”
“They couldn’t leave me in the mines. I was too young. Even so, my father had to call in some favors.” He shook his head. “What about you? Where are you from?”
“Nowhere near a farm.” She laughed a little too loudly. “I never even saw a tree until the program.”
“City girl, eh?”
“Something like that.” She looked at her hands. A farmer’s son. They weren’t alike at all. What would he think if he knew she grew up on the streets—homeless and uneducated? A fiery blush crossed her cheeks.
At least, I was never in a penal colony.
But she had done far worse than rescue a girl in an alley.
“I wonder where we’ll jump next,” he murmured.
“It isn’t where that’s important but why. We have to figure out what caused the malfunction. How well do you understand Impellics?”
“Well enough, I guess. But they didn’t cover malfunctions in class.”
“I have a theory. We know that a drop consists of a sequence of rings. I think the final ring in our session fractured and is wobbling, trying to break free. The instability pulled the other rings out of sync.”
“No, it can’t be the final ring or it wouldn’t keep latching onto us.” He massaged his neck. “It must be a middle ring. The last ring picks us up, trying to send us home, but we hit the fractured ring and the wobble spits us out somewhere else.”
“That makes sense. So, how do we bypass the middle ring?”
“We don’t.” He glared as if he doubted her sanity.
“So we just give up?”
He stretched out on the cave floor, hands behind his head. “Wake me at daybreak.”
She drew in her knees and hugged her chest. There had to be a way to stabilize the ring. She watched the flowing geyser and let her mind drift, willing it to land on inspiration. The steamy curtain brightened. She crawled to the cave mouth and gazed outside.
“Good morning,” she said.
“The sun’s risen already?”
“Short night.” A shadow passed over the cave mouth. She skittered backward. “Something’s out there.”
Trace shot forward and pulled her away as an enormous snakehead parted the rushing water.
Red and gold patterned the snake’s pebbly face. Its fangs curved inward, saber-toothed, and a tongue flicked between them.
Impani gaped. Her heart beat so hard, her entire body shuddered. The snake’s milky-white eyes turned toward her. Water splashed and pounded its head, sounding like rain on tarp. After a while, it pulled from the cave.
Trace looked outside. “It’s gone. I guess we didn’t smell like food.”
“This is drel. I want to go home. We have to figure out how to fix the ring.”
“I’m sure the technicians—”
“Forget the technicians. If they could bring us back, they would have done it by now. We have to do this ourselves.” She stood to face him, daring him to contradict her.
Then nausea struck. Her stomach wrenched as if a grappling hook were wedged behind her naval.
The ring was coming. She wanted to curl into a ball, wanted to weep, to rail at the injustice. She couldn’t keep doing this, couldn’t stop doing it. There was no help, no end.
The Impellic ring pounced. It ripped her away from reality and twisted her gut until she thought she would faint. She smashed against the barrier and tore her way through, falling. Falling.
She landed face down in the dirt. With a whimper, she curled onto her side. A tear splashed her mask.
Trace shook her. “Do you smell that? Forest fire.”
“I don’t smell anything.”
“We’re upwind. It’s coming this way. What’s the terrain like?”
Groggily, she took out the resonator. “Trees. Hills and gullies. A river in that direction, but it’s pretty far.”
“Let’s go.”
Favoring her bruised hip, she climbed to her feet. “Are you sure there’s a fire?”
He took off through the forest, calling over his shoulder. “Hurry. We can’t stay here.”
Impani looked at a soot-gray sky. The trees were tall and thin, the branches fanned like the tail of a bird. They whipped about as if the forest itself was attempting to flee—but the air where she stood was stagnant and dry.
With a sniffle, she hugged her arms. Her gaze fell upon the coiled moss rope in the dirt. She snapped it up, draped it over her shoulder, and hurried to catch her partner.
He stood at the top of a steep rise.
Embarrassed by her outburst, she smiled as she joined him. “How can you smell a fire if your mask is latched?” She’d meant it as a teasing reference to the pact they’d made about not taking off their masks. But he looked at her with an almost painful seriousness.
“That bothers me, too. These masks aren’t airtight. Think about it. We’re only supposed to jump to class m worlds. The filters neutralize any unfriendly gases we encounter, but…”
“We can still suffocate in a fire.” She nodded. “Let’s keep moving.”
Boots skidding, she led down the slope. Tufts of yellowed grass tangled her ankles. As they crested another hill, she caught a whiff of smoke.
He took out the tri-views. “Nothing but trees. Can you find a clearing?”
“In that direction.” She motioned with the resonator.
Bounding from trunk to trunk, they followed an animal run down the slope. A gully ate the base of the hill. It was black with muck. She leaped to drier land. Trace stared at her.
“At the top of the next rise,” she said to what she thought was his question.
“Hear it?” He turned his back on any answer and climbed quickly away.
She was about to shout hear what when a distant roar reached her. Fire. She glanced upward. A flock of birds passed overhead, wings beating.
Fear gathered in her throat. She followed the root-strewn path up the hill, grasping trees for support. Puffs of dry soil kicked up with her footsteps. Her boots felt like lead.
Keep moving. But she was hungry. Tired. Her muscles burned with each step. By the time she reached the top, she was panting.
Trace stood in the clearing. He pivoted on his heel as he peered through the tri-views. “We’re closed in. We have to find shelter. Locate a cave or something.”
“What cave? There’s nothing here.”
“We can’t outrun it.”
She snatched the glasses from his hands and looked out upon the trees. Smoke billowed and churned. She saw a glint of water. “The river. If we’re quick, we might make it.”
He looked to where she pointed. Then he frowned, head tilted. “What was that?”
“Come on.” She headed across the clearing.
He went the other way.
Fear and anger raced through her. “The fire is coming.”
She could hear it clearly now—the thrum of a thousand drums. Panic gripped her, rooting her with indecision. Finally, she followed her partner as he pushed through the trees.
The ground was uneven, making her footing treacherous. She slammed against tree trunks, sliding and dislodging loose stones. Ahead, Trace crouched low and melted into the prickly brush.
She ducked beside him. “What’s going on?”
He motioned toward an animal caught in a stand of sapling trees. Wisps of smoke rose from its fur. “We can’t leave it.”
“All right.” She huffed out a breath. “We’ll free it and go. We’re nearly out of time.”
<<>>
Trace looked at the large animal. Its hindquarters were heavy but the forelegs were finely drawn, as if the beast stood upright. The front hooves were splayed almost like fingers.
Hands outstretched, he approached the creature through the trees. “There now, my friend. You can’t stay here.”
The animal raised its head, eyes wide in pale fur. Its muzzle was snubbed, its mouth upturned as if in a smile.
“Gently, gently. What seems to be the trouble?” He moved in a slow circle, wide of its reach.
The creature’s hind leg had caught in the young trees. Bone splintered through the skin with the weight of its thrashing. The saplings were supple—the beast would never break loose.
He bent over the fractured leg. How could he free it without causing more damage? Sweat fogged his faceplate. He lifted his mask so he could see.
Immediately, his eyes watered. He coughed into his glove.
Impani moved behind him. “Look.”
Flames encroached upon the hill. It glowed as if it wore a halo.
“No time.” He removed his gun.
“What are you doing?”
“What do you think?”
“Can’t we just free it?”
“Take a good look.” He pointed. “The thing’s a biped. It can’t run on one leg.”
She knelt to stroke the animal. He glanced back at the glowing hill. A hot wind rose.
“You can’t kill it.” She stood between them, arms folded. “That’s not why we’re here.”
“I can’t let it burn to death, either.”
He pushed past her toward the creature’s head. Its eyes, black and piercing, bore into his.
“I’m sorry, my friend,” he said, “but you’re too big to carry. This is the best I can do.”
Its stare held his. He raised the gun.
Please, a voice not his own said clearly in his mind.
Chapter 8
Trace jumped back. Had the animal spoken?
“Trace,” Impani said.
“Did you hear that?” he asked her.
“I hear the fire. We have to go.”
He shook his head. He’d heard it say please. Please kill it? Please don’t? Either way, he couldn’t murder an intelligent being. “Give me your rope. And go cut a few branches. We have to make a litter.”
Her glare sharpened. She hurried away.
He snapped the mossy rope between his hands, testing its strength. Ash pelted his face. With fingers over his mouth and nose, he appraised the broken leg. The ground around it was scuffed black.
Pain said the creature.
Some sort of telepathy. Trace knelt beside it and stroked the pale fur. “Don’t worry, buddy. We’ll get you out of here.”
He glanced toward Impani as she scored the base of a long branch with the beam of her stat-gun. On the hill beyond her, the aura grew.
He jammed his boot in the crook of the trap and spread the saplings. The creature moaned and writhed. It pulled its mangled leg free. Bright red blood smeared the bark.
“How much longer?” he called over his shoulder. Hot cinders rained down. He covered his face with his arm then locked his mask.
“Here.” She carried over eight poles roughly two meters in length and charred on each end.
With a nod, Trace wove the poles together with the rope.
<<>>
Impani watched her partner’s fingers as he deftly knotted the rope about the wood. She looked at the animal. Its eyes were closed, but its chest rose with long, regular breaths. Patches of burned fur showed pink, blistered flesh.
They were going to die trying to save this beast. She glanced at the sky. The lowering smoke was tinted orange with the approaching blaze.
Trace tossed a piece of wood toward her. “Strip the bark off this one.”
“What are you making?”
“A sled. I hope.”
She bit back a scathing reply. Taking out her utility knife, she slashed the surface of the pole. The bark peeled back like paper. The wood beneath was smooth and slick. As she worked, an acrid stench seeped through the filters of her mask. Heat leeched through her skinsuit.
The forest fire had found them. Flames lapped the surrounding brush
and ran the length of the tall thin trunks. Trees cracked with the sound of breaking bones and crashed to the ground, showering the air with sparks. She covered her head and stifled a scream.
“Help me with this,” Trace called over the sound of burning.
She hesitated. Reflections of flame danced over his mask—with her among them. Swallowing a catch in her chest, she knelt at his side. They bowed the pole she’d stripped of bark and affixed it as a single runner to the bottom of his sled. Then they wedged the platform against the creature’s back and lifted it, balancing the heavy beast on top.
“Take off your belt,” she called. “We have to strap it down.”
Coughing, Trace held out his belt.
She tried to connect the belts together, but her buckle wouldn’t hold. Panic rose to her throat.
He yelled, “We’ve got no time.”
Hands shaking, Impani forced his belt to latch onto hers. She tossed the length over the creature’s chest and secured it to the poles. “Let’s go.”
Holding opposite sides of the platform, they rocked the makeshift sled. The runner creaked and dug deeper into the dirt.
“It’s too heavy,” she yelled.
Fire claimed the trees at the edges of her vision. Her head swam with smoke, and she imagined her skin searing to the inside of her suit.
The sled moved—slowly at first, and then faster. The creature stirred, but remained silent. Steadying the platform, they steered it down the hill.
She struggled with her grip on the sled, fought for balance on the skittering rocks. As the roar of the flames receded, the haze grew. Trees shot as if from nowhere, striking her shoulders as she thudded through them.
The creature’s face was rigid, eyes squeezed shut. Its body jounced, and its heavy rear threatened to spill onto the ground, but the belts held.
The ground leveled. The sled slowed.
She panted. “Now what?”
Trace stumbled and glanced about. “I didn’t plan past getting down the hill.”
Impani pressed her lips tight against mounting anger. What did he mean he had no plan? He was going to get them killed. They should have freed the beast and let it take its chances—just like them.
Alien Worlds Page 7
