Project U.L.F.

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Project U.L.F. Page 22

by Stuart Clark


  So Kate had become a stretcher-bearer and the effort visibly fatigued her, but she took her shifts when the time came and did not complain once. Wyatt, having lost his pack in the lake, always carried one of the stretcher-bearers’ equipment.

  The going had been slow and the shift changes made welcome resting stops when they could rub the cramps from their arms and legs and take on some of the little water they had. The trees provided an unbroken cover from the two suns, but while the shade saved them from the heat, it was dark and humid. At times the plant growth had become so thick that Wyatt had been forced to draw his knife and attempt to hack a way through for them and sometimes even this had failed and they had been forced to backtrack and then set off in a different direction. But their perseverance was being rewarded. The forest was visibly thinning now and the ground underfoot becoming more solid. The oppressive humidity was lifting and the cooler air felt refreshing on their faces, but it remained dark beneath the leafy branches. Nightfall was almost upon them.

  Byron came up alongside Wyatt. “We’re going to have to find a place to hole up for the night.”

  “Yeah, I know.”

  “Well, we’d better do it soon. The light’s fading fast and we’re going to need to get a fire going. Once that second sun goes down the temperature is going to plummet.”

  “You’re right, as always, my old friend,” Wyatt said to him, and then with a cheeky grin, “But I knew that…okay. Tell the others to keep an eye out for anywhere with a bit of cover and protection. I don’t want to be out in the open.”

  Byron nodded and dropped back behind him.

  They found their spot by accident. The light had faded rapidly and they had upped their pace in an attempt to cover more ground and seek out more places to camp. Wyatt had had his head down, concentrating on the dark soil beneath them, tracing the path it led with his eyes. So intent was he on it, that his eyes focused just in time to prevent him taking the next step that would have sent him tumbling over a twenty foot overhang. It was almost like half the forest had just subsided for no apparent reason. Byron came up beside him to peer over the edge.

  They skirted the overhang and found a place where they could scramble down onto the lower plateau.

  “This’ll do,” Wyatt said. “We’re covered pretty much from behind and above. I think it’s the best we’re going to get.” Some of the others nodded, some just dropped their packs in exhaustion. Wyatt could have said anywhere was fine and they would have dropped where they stood. “Okay, let’s gather up some deadwood, branches, bark, dry leaves, anything that will burn. We’ve got to get a fire started.”

  “You might not need to,” Chris said. “We could just sit around Bobby.”

  Wyatt turned to him. Chris was crouched over her, a palm to her forehead. “How’s she doing, kid?”

  “Not good. She’s burning up, as I thought she would.”

  “Can you give her something for the fever?”

  “I could, but I don’t want to. That’s her way of fighting the infection. But I’ll have to bring it down in a couple of days if it doesn’t happen naturally.”

  “What about drugs? Can you treat her for the infection?”

  “Well, I can give her what we’ve got. I’ve already given her one batch.” He looked up at Wyatt who towered above them. “I mean…I don’t even understand how the infection could have taken hold. The antibiotics I gave her should have killed off…I mean this is, this is frighteningly quick.” There was a look of exasperation in Chris’ eyes. “I just don’t know what I’m dealing with here.”

  Wyatt put a steadying hand on Chris’ shoulder. “I know, kid. I know. We’re not expecting you to be superhuman. We just expect you to do your best for her. That’s all you can do. Nothing more. Nothing less.”

  Chris nodded at the wisdom of the words. Wyatt turned away from him, “Now then. How are we doing with that firewood?” he asked.

  * * * * *

  The charred log cracked and popped and then broke in two, sending a scatter of red sparks dancing upward into the cold night air and to a swift demise. The fire was now a pile of glowing embers that lacked the energy of its earlier life when wicked flames had licked around the wood and sent fleeting shadows dancing across the faces of the small group. Now the darkness that the flickering light had kept at bay seemed to sense the slow demise of the warmth-giving glow and close in on them like a carrion feeder. Cowardly.

  Kate peered out into the blackness and could just make out the slender pale forms of the trees nearest to her. She pulled her blanket closer around her shoulders and shivered, an action that was not solely attributable to the temperature. In the still of the night her mind had wandered and taken her to places just as dark as this real world. Half of the animals that lived out there existed only in her head. She fingered the weapon at her side to remind herself it was there.

  They had eaten a sparse meal of crackers and dried fruit after realizing that after all their foresight of emptying their packs of kit and weaponry to stock up on supplies, most of that food was useless to them. It was dehydrated food, and water was not a commodity they had in excess. Still, what they had salvaged as a meal had satisfied most of them.

  They had spent the rest of the evening sitting around the fire, enjoying the warmth and the feeling of safety it offered. They talked about the day’s events, about what a crackpot idea it had been to fly the Santa Maria on such low power levels. It seemed funny now. They even joked about the food problem and how stupid that was. They all laughed, even Kit, but inside, they all thanked their Gods that they had made it through the day alive and, if all went well tonight, that they would see another dawn. As exhaustion smothered their humor, one by one they had lain themselves down, made themselves comfortable and let sleep come to claim them from the day.

  Kate had requested to take first watch. It was a request that Wyatt had agreed to since it was probably the safest watch. The nocturnes would be at their least active and the fire would burn long enough to keep most things away, or at least out of visible range. As a precaution, Wyatt had posted Byron as the second watchperson with her. They would need two, in any case, to keep a careful eye on the whole area, and who better to have with your least experienced team member than your most experienced team member? Wyatt had fallen asleep almost instantly after they had bedded down. He was happy to accept that between the pair of them Byron and Kate could look after the team adequately; sleep was his main priority. It had been a very long day.

  Kate peered over her shoulder at Wyatt. All the lines of concentration and worry that creased his face during the day were now gone. He looked fresh and relaxed in the faint glow of the dying fire. His breaths were deep and slow as he slept.

  “Tell me about him,” Kate said quietly.

  “Huh?” Byron was surprised more by her voice than by the question. “Who?”

  “Wyatt. Tell me about him.”

  “Well it’s not really my place to say anything. If you want to know anything, why don’t you ask him?”

  “Oh, come on, Byron, give me a break. You know what I mean, and besides, you know him better than anyone.”

  “No, I doubt that. There was one who knew him better than me,” Byron said quietly.

  “What do you mean? Who?”

  He could see the game she was playing with him. A knowing smile crossed his face. “That is something only he can tell you.”

  Kate sighed. This was getting her nowhere. Then, to her surprise, Byron spoke again.

  “Young lady, I will tell you what I can about Wyatt…about most of us in fact because it is something you should know and something I don’t think you realize. You are here only through a series of coincidences…unfortunately for you,” he added hurriedly. “Wyatt has been called back into service for this one job. Alan knew Wyatt as a friend. The mission was assigned routine status.” Byron counted them off on his fingers. “Alan probably thought Wyatt wouldn’t mind having you along, in fact he probably took a shine to yo
u, thought maybe Wyatt would look after you. But I’ll tell you this for free. If any of those components hadn’t fallen into place with all of the others you wouldn’t be sitting here talking to me now. Any other day of the year and you wouldn’t have been assigned to a U.L.F. mission. A nice CSETI exploratory cruise to one of the desert moons of the Rona system, perhaps, but not here. Not with us. You see, Wyatt and I, and some of the others, we are men with…” He paused, his mind searching for the right word, “…histories,” He nodded, to confirm to himself that his choice was the most descriptive and yet least offensive. “We all have secrets,” he said with a sad smile. “Some of us more than others. That’s what makes us what we are. Molds us. It’s what makes us different from the next person. Some of those secrets weigh us down and they need to be shared to let us carry on with our lives, but some are burdens that are meant to be carried. We know that.” He indicated the others asleep behind him with a backward tip of his head. “Do you understand what I’m saying?”

  Kate nodded. “I think so.”

  “We don’t ask any questions. Anything we know about each other is decided upon by what individuals wish to volunteer about themselves. I know Wyatt as a colleague first and a friend second. That’s why I can’t talk to you about him. I’m sorry.”

  “That’s okay,” Kate said quietly.

  Silence fell on the campsite once again for a few minutes and then Kate said, “So what’s he like to work with?” Byron smiled in spite of himself.

  “Well…” he began.

  Behind them in the darkness, Chris smiled as well. He knew this was a private conversation but he could not help but overhear it. With one hand he pulled the inadequately thin blanket closer to him, the other tightly clasped one of Bobby’s hands. He was worried about her. He hoped, that even though she was feverish and unconscious, somehow she would sense his closeness and take some comfort from it. He knew he would not sleep tonight.

  The night passed without event, or at least if anything had occurred after Kate’s watch she had been blissfully unaware of it. Par and Kit, who had taken last watch, were clearly wide awake, but the others still stirred where they had lain themselves down the night before or were sat rubbing the sleep from their eyes. Chris sat up next to her.

  “God, you look awful,” she said.

  “Yeah, I know. I didn’t sleep a wink last night.” He gave her a knowing look. Kate’s heart leapt into her mouth. Had Chris heard her conversation last night? She and Byron had handed over to Wyatt and Chris. Could he have possibly discussed her conversation with Byron to Wyatt? Chris could obviously see her train of thought in her eyes.

  “No, I didn’t,” he said, almost apologetically.

  Kate still reeled with shock. She felt exposed in front of him. Almost as naked as when they had opened her cryosleep chamber and found her there. That conversation was supposed to have been private. It was meant only for Byron to hear. She wanted to scream at Chris, to do something, anything to correct the violation she felt but she stopped herself. She was over-reacting again. Chris hadn’t said anything. He admitted that. What was she getting so upset about? Byron’s words from the previous night rang in her ears. “We all have our secrets,” she heard him say again, “Some to be shared, some to be carried.” Chris had elected to carry this one for her. The look of astonishment faded from her face. Chris had already turned his attention away and to Bobby.

  “How is she?”

  “I really can’t tell,” he said. “It worries me…the not knowing. The uncertainty. Not just with Bobby but with all of it. Whether these ships are here and what state they’ll be in when…if we find them. What lurks behind the next bush or up the next tree. Whether we’ll…live.”

  Kate felt her stomach knot. Chris had just put a voice to her fears. It had seemed okay when she had hidden them, forced them to the back of her mind, but now she was confronted with them. She had thought as well that maybe she was alone in those thoughts, that no one else had spoken of worry because they genuinely were not worried. She had taken some comfort from that—if they weren’t worried, why should she be? Now she realized that she was not alone. For a moment she was lost for words but then she put a hand on Chris’ arm. “Wyatt says we’ll reach the shuttle by tomorrow if we make as much progress as we did yesterday. There will be plenty of food and water there.” It was the only two things she was sure about. She didn’t want to hazard a guess at their chances.

  They dressed quickly and ate a small breakfast of the same dried fruit that they had eaten for supper the previous night. Then they packed and were gone, following Wyatt through the trees towards the shuttle and their ticket home.

  By mid-afternoon they had cleared the forest and found themselves hiking across a vast plain of waist-high grass that rippled and swayed in the blustery wind. It was not the cane that they had encountered on the day of Alex’s death, but it was of the same straw color and it had Chris looking about anxiously, as if, at any moment, he expected a curled black tail to rise from out of sight and finish the job it had started.

  The sky was covered with a blanket of cloud which completely blotted out the suns and added an additional chill to the wind which whipped past them. Soon it began to rain, a few small isolated spots at first which rapidly became a deluge. A downpour that turned the ground beneath their feet into mud and the sky dark before its time. The wind became a gale which howled and raged, slapping the rain into their faces and onto their cold exposed skin so hard that it stung. Caught in the open, they had no choice but to go on and hope that the change in the weather was a fleeting one. In the distance they could see another clump of trees and a rocky incline. Perhaps there was shelter to be found there, but Wyatt guessed it was more than ten miles away and they had to get there first.

  They marched for hours, slowing considerably as the time went by. The constant, drubbing rain had soaked them through, drenching clothes and equipment, making both heavier and more cumbersome. Cold, fatigued limbs twinged with cramp and their spirits fell as the forced march seemed to be bringing them no closer to their destination on the horizon, but eventually the trees started to grow in stature and the outcrop of rock could be seen for what it really was—a scree of boulders, rocks, stones and pebbles packed solid from the sheer weight above it and scattered here and there with saplings, daughters of parent plants which grew on the plateau below or the ridge high above.

  It was dark when they reached the cover of the narrow band of trees at the base of the slope and picked their way through it. It was not yet night time, the weather had cut their day short by at least a couple of hours, but Wyatt saw no reason and no point in going on. Despite their slowed pace today, they would still make it to the shuttle tomorrow. At present they needed to find a place that would get them out of rain and allow them time to dry off.

  As they emerged from the trees at the base of the slope they found themselves standing at the entrance of a cavern. A gaping maw in which they could see nothing. Wyatt sighed with relief. Not all the gods hate me, he thought. Carefully, he picked his way over the boulders that lined the mouth of the cave like teeth.

  “No, no, no,” Chris said, shaking his head with a smirk of disbelief. The others all turned to face him.

  “What is it, kid?” Wyatt asked.

  “You’re not seriously going in there?”

  “Yeah. Why not?”

  “You’re kidding me! That could be a home to something!”

  Wyatt laughed. “I doubt it. These are all natural fault lines,” he said, pointing to structures in the rock, “And besides, I doubt anything that would need to build a hole this big to live in would survive out here. After all, what would it live on? I didn’t see another living thing out there today.”

  “I’m not surprised. Nothing else is stupid enough to go out in weather like this,” Chris retorted.

  “Well, have you got any better suggestions? If you have I’m sure we’d like to hear them.”

  Chris looked around him at the assembl
ed faces. None of them had to say a word for him to realize that it would be in his best interests to stop this line of argument now. They were cold and soaked through and this place offered the best opportunity for shelter since they had set out this morning. “Well,” he said quietly. “I’m still not convinced this is wise. After all, you saw the size of the thing that killed Alex, and look at that thing from the lake yesterday. I just don’t…”

  “Well I’m with Wyatt,” Par interrupted him, coming up close to Chris. His face was hard and spattered with drops of water which met and then streaked down his forehead and cheeks to drip off his nose and chin. “If he says there’s no animal down there then I believe him and if he’s wrong, well I’m quite happy to risk that. Anything to get out of this God-forsaken rain. If you want to stay out here, then fine. Maybe we’ll throw you out some food, but me? I’m in there.” Par turned on his heels and followed the others over the rocks and into the mouth of the cavern.

  “Okay, okay,” Chris sighed. “I’m coming.”

  * * * * *

  They camped about ten yards inside the mouth of the cave, far enough to be out of the wind and rain and yet close enough to the entrance to make a hasty exit should they need to. While Wyatt very much doubted whether Chris’ fears were rational, it would not hurt to exercise a little caution. Water seeped through from above and dripped in numerous places forming puddles where it fell, the drips regular as clockwork, the sounds they made like single piano notes being played over and over again. The sequence of drops sent a haunting melody echoing away into the blackness.

  Finding somewhere to bed down and yet avoid the dropping water proved challenging but it was far more agreeable than spending the night outside in the storm. They tried to gather tinder wood from beneath the small clump of trees outside, but the ground was sodden and nothing they found would burn with any great success, or it belched great clouds of smoke. It was a futile effort. Tonight they would have to go without fire and hope that they had found a safe place to sleep. They would still put one person on watch.

 

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