Prosperine: The Adventures of the Space Heroine Hickory Lace: Books 1, 2 & 3 (The Prosperine Trilogy)

by PJ McDermott

  Hickory and Paddy followed next with Jess and Gareth bringing up the rear. God, I hate jungle, but swampy jungle is worse, thought Hickory. She swung her sword ferociously at a vine. The top half of the plant writhed away, spurting a viscous green fluid across Hickory’s jacket. “Ughh. What the hell is that?” As she opened her mouth, a fly hit the back of her throat. She spluttered and coughed, then called a halt. She removed her jacket and scrubbed most of the sticky fluid off, but the jacket still smelled foul. She tied a bandanna around her face, but this seemed to make things worse, with more and more flies attracted by the smell now pestering her eyes and ears. “This will drive me mad if we don’t get away from here real quick,” she shouted.

  “We should reach the island in a few hours,” said MacArthur, checking his map. “Hopefully, there’ll be fewer flies when we get out of the trees.” He called to the Rangers, “Jack, Barb, pick up the pace. We don’t want to be stuck in this jungle when night falls.”

  Jess shivered. “Can’t imagine anything worse,” she muttered.

  They shouldered their packs and stepped up their work rate. Hours of tramping through calf-deep mud took its toll, and before long, their boots and clothing were sodden, and their feathered hair clung limply to their skulls.

  When they found a dry patch, Hickory decided on a break, and they stripped off their shoes and stockings. The constant damp had caused their skin to turn white and peel, and Gareth discovered that one of his feet was infested with a parasite. Barb, who doubled as a medic, cleaned and medicated the raw flesh, bandaged each toe separately and swaddled the entire foot in surgical tape.

  “All right?” asked Jess, searching Gareth’s face.

  “Yeah. Picked up a couple of suckers, those tiny bio-leeches, along the trail, but I think Barb got them all. Nasty little beggars.”

  “They’re not the only nasties to worry about in here.” She offered him a small olive-green block. “This is the last of the repellent Mack and I found on our first trip. Rub it over your face and arms,” she said.

  He took the block, weighed it in his hand, then gave it back. “Thanks, but I’ll manage. You should keep it for yourself, or Hickory could do with it. The insects are tormenting the hell out of her.”

  Jess’s eyes crinkled. “I just gave her the second last piece, you dope. Take it!” She laughed at his expression.

  Hickory caught up with MacArthur. “How far to go, Paddy?” she asked.

  The engineer checked his compass heading and peered at his map. He took a handkerchief from his pocket and wiped his forehead. “Tell the truth,” he said eventually, “I’m not sure. There’s nothing here to take a bearing from, but I’m pretty confident we’re still headed roughly in the same direction as when we started. It seems to be becoming less dense, so I figure it can’t be far. I’ll send my two off on a recce, just in case we’ve strayed.”

  “Okay,” said Hickory. “Gareth and Jess could do with some rest. We’ll stay here until the Rangers return. Tell them no more than fifteen minutes out and fifteen back. The last thing I need is to have to go looking for them.”

  “Right,” grunted MacArthur. He called his crew.

  They waited for the scouts to return, resting their backs against a tree trunk.

  “That insect repellent is ten times better than the stuff we were issued with, Jess, but it doesn’t keep everything away.” Hickory flicked a large furry orange and blue fly from her jacket.

  “Not surprising, given how much your jacket stinks,” said Gareth, screwing up his nose.

  Hickory sighed. I’m smelly, covered in insect bites, and I have the beginnings of an infection in my eye. She rubbed at it with the back of her hand. God, I could do with a bath.

  Five minutes before the Rangers were due back, a terrified cry forced them to their feet.

  “That’s Jack!” shouted MacArthur.

  Hickory turned to Gareth, who was pulling on his boots. “You wait for Barb. I don’t want her here on her own, thinking she’s been left behind, soldier or not. She’d have heard that scream, too.”

  Gareth protested, but Hickory glared at him. “Gareth, just for once…” She turned and dashed into the bush, followed by Jess and the lumbering MacArthur. Jack had marked branches and left footprints to find his way back, so he was easy to follow. After about a quarter mile, Hickory paused. The tell-tale signs ended at a well-trodden track leading left and right.

  “Animal trail,” said Jess. “I hope he didn’t follow it.”

  They searched the ground on the both sides of the track but found no signs of the missing man.

  “Damn!” said Hickory. “Which way?” They listened for any sounds from the engineer’s aide.

  Hickory probed in both directions using her empathic abilities but could sense nothing. She was about to order them to split up when she heard a howl coming from the right-hand path.

  Jess crouched and peered after the noise. “Sounds big, bigger than Jack,” she whispered.

  “And it’s headed this way. Look out!” Hickory drew her sword and at the same time grabbed MacArthur by the arm, heaving him off the path. A short, muscular figure on two legs flashed past her. It was a blur of white fur, splattered with dark red blood.

  Jess had only a fleeting glimpse of the fleeing creature before it disappeared into the forest. “What the heck was that?”

  “Not the small life-form the admiral told us to expect, that’s for certain,” said Hickory, wiping the blood from her blade. “We can talk about it later. We need to find Jack.” She had a bad feeling they were already too late. Her empathic ability should have told her if he was nearby and in pain. She pulled MacArthur to his feet. “You okay, Paddy?”

  The giant engineer brushed himself down, looking anxiously around him. “Has it gone? He was a big bloke. Knocked me off my feet like a skittle in the bowling alley.”

  Hickory winced and said, “I’m afraid that was mostly my fault. Sorry. Let’s find Jack. He can’t be far away.”

  A few minutes later, they found Paddy’s assistant lying face down in the swamp. They turned him over, but he had stopped breathing. Jack’s eyes were open, and three deep diagonal cuts ran across his face, chest and shoulder.

  MacArthur turned from the sight and retched. “My God, that…that beast did this? Poor Jack. He was one of the good guys—he didn’t deserve to die this way.” His eyes widened in horror. “What am I going to tell his family?”

  Into the Swamp

  Two hours later, they emerged from the jungle with Gareth and Jess carrying Jack’s body on a makeshift stretcher. For the last half mile, the ground underfoot had become progressively softer and more marsh-like. Prosperine’s two moons had dispersed the aurora, the smaller nestling on the surface of the sea and the other peeking above a twin-peaked mountain on the other side of a wide inlet.

  A reed-filled quagmire stretched out for miles before them. Hickory searched left and right with her spyglass. “There’s something about a mile over there.” She pointed further up the edge of the jungle. “Hard to make out, but it could be our jet.”

  As they made their way across the marsh, bubbles of noxious gas burst on the brackish water all around them.

  “Ugh,” said Jess. This place stinks like something very unpleasant has died here.”

  “And the flies are worse than in the jungle.” Barb swatted frantically at a group of multi-winged iridescent insects that buzzed around her face.

  Hickory saw an orange blur scuttle away beneath the surface. “Keep to the matted weed and stay away from the water. The quicker we move, the sooner we’ll get out of here,” she said.

  They set off at a trot, keeping close to the trees, with Paddy bringing up the rear. He waved them on when he saw them slow down to wait for him.

  They closed in on the crashed spaceship. It rested on one side at the end of a deep hundred-yard-long furrow running parallel to the forest’s edge. One of the short stabilizing wings had snapped off in the landing and lay half-buried in the
weed forty feet further on from the fuselage. The signature swallow-tail of the Bikashi flyer towered high above them. Various smaller pieces of the ship’s silvered hull and plastisteel windscreen were scattered around the crash site. The forward entry, just behind the cockpit, gaped empty like a missing tooth.

  Hickory raised her arm. “The light’s still good, so I want a thorough search of the area before we settle for the night. Jack’s body should be as safe here as anywhere. Spread out between the ship and those trees but be careful, the ground looks pretty treacherous. Keep a hundred paces between us. Barb, you and Gareth stay on the far side and stick together. Jess, you’re in the middle. Call out if you come across anything significant. I’ll cover the area towards the sea.”

  Half an hour later the all met back at the ship. “Anything?” Hickory asked Jess.

  “Looks like they were trying to make some running repairs.” Jess showed them a hammer and some metal rods that were flat and blackened at the ends. “There’s a makeshift forge.” She nodded in the direction of the mound. “Also, this.” She handed a blaster to Hickory.

  Hickory examined the gun. “Empty.” She passed it on to Gareth.

  He looked at the weapon and frowned. “I swear this is the same gun Vogel pointed at me.”

  Hickory blinked. “One Bikashi blaster looks pretty much like another, I’d have thought.” She inspected the metal rods then glanced back at the spacecraft. “Seems like a pretty hopeless task given the extent of the damage.”

  Gareth’s brow wrinkled. “Whatever they were up to, they were disturbed. The trees over there are decorated with blood and shredded flesh. It’s a pretty gruesome sight. From what I could tell there were three or four of them.”

  “Plus one between here and the jungle,” said Barb. “His head’s been ripped clean off his shoulders. Bikashi, but showing signs of massive radiation damage.”

  “Any idea how long he’s been dead?” asked Hickory.

  Barb glanced at Gareth, who nodded for her to continue. “The burns were pre-death of course. A few flies and crawlers have found homes in the skulls, but they only moved in fairly recently. I’d say three, perhaps four days at most.”

  Jess nodded. “The fire looks relatively recent, too. I’d agree four days.”

  “So, five or six of them—a complete Bikashi squadron wiped out,” said Hickory, “and they’d been here a fair while. This place looks lived in,” said Hickory.

  “Shock troops, eh? What could do this to a crack outfit like the Bikashi?” said Gareth.

  Hickory clenched her jaw. “I think I can guess the answer to that. We saw in Erlach what the Riv-Amok is capable of. Let’s take a look at the ship.”

  The interior seemed in surprisingly good condition given the damage to the hull, thought Hickory. The lights were still operational, as was the Bikashi equivalent of washrooms, a meat freezer, and the ship’s galley.

  Jess returned from looking over the flight console in the cockpit. “Not even a glimmer of life from the engines. Someone’s been trying to fix the radio, but with no luck.”

  Hickory eyed the shower. “We’ll sleep in the jet tonight. I’ll call the admiral and give him a progress report, then we’ll give Jack a decent burial. But first…”

  “Definitely Bikashi,” said Hickory. She’d showered and washed her clothes, leaving them to dry on the ship’s fuselage. Wearing Barb’s ranger jacket, she felt infinitely better. She moved away from the ship, mostly to have some privacy on her call to the Admiral, but also so that she could provide a good view of the ship via the voice activated transmitter in her hand. She noted that Gareth had followed her out. “There’s the remains of a half-dozen or so commandos scattered around the place. From the look of what’s left, I’d say they’ve been massacred by the Riv-Amok or one of his kind.”

  The admiral appeared on the small screen, grim-faced. “Is it Vogel’s personal transport? It was a gift from the Bikashi high command. There would be some personal items belonging to him—a commendation, amongst other things.”

  Hickory glanced at Gareth, then back at her transmitter. “There’s nothing inside to indicate that it’s his, but that doesn’t mean it isn’t, of course. There’s not much left of the Bikashi troops except mangled body armor. To be honest, it looks as though they’ve been ripped apart, and their corpses most likely were eaten.”

  Gareth burst out before the admiral could reply. “No way! Uh, sorry admiral.” He looked sheepishly at Hickory. “Sorry, Commander, but I just don’t believe it. That bastard is far too cunning to be killed by an animal, no matter how big it is. He’s here somewhere.” He glanced around as though he might spot the Bikashi commander lurking in the undergrowth.

  “Get a grip, Gareth,” said Hickory, narrowing her eyes. “You go back to the ship, get some rest. I’ll take it from here.”

  She watched as Gareth shuffled away, his hands deep in his pockets then spoke quietly. “Sir, there are signs that at least one Bikashi survived the attack. We found an empty blaster and a campfire, a few days old. Also, there were footprints from the ship to the water. I believe he may have headed for El Toro Island.”

  “Maybe Gareth is right about it being Vogel.”

  “Sir, Gareth went through hell with Vogel and his scientists. It’s natural his emotions run high where he’s concerned, but I’d back his intuition. I certainly don’t feel comfortable assuming Vogel’s dead.”

  The admiral’s eyebrows knitted together. “I’m not going to assume anything of the kind, commander. I’d love to get hold of that bastard. I’d be happy to send a squad of greenjackets to look for Vogel, but chances are they’d warn him off. And that’s the last thing I want.”

  Hickory wondered whether sending in the greenjackets wasn’t the best option. After all, they were the Agency’s elite marines and specialists at operating behind enemy lines without being caught. But Gareth and the admiral were right. This Bikashi had a knack for getting out of tight spots. And if he remained on the loose, he could become a significant threat, especially if he got his hands on the sword.

  She thought about asking the admiral to drop a dinghy to make the crossing quicker but realized he wouldn’t risk spooking Vogel. “I’ll call you when we get to the island, sir.”

  Something in the Water

  They gave Jack a sea burial and watched as his body floated away, buoyed up by some reeds. Paddy said a few words, mostly about Jack’s service record and his fondness for practical jokes. Jack wasn’t religious, he said, but he thought the ranger wouldn’t mind a silent prayer to mark his passing, and they bowed their heads self-consciously.

  The cadaver made it a few hundred yards from shore before there was a disturbance in the water and it disappeared.

  “Better than being buried in the ground around here,” said Paddy.

  They stayed by the water’s edge watching the moonlight illuminate El Toro’s twin peaks. The island looked tantalizingly close, separated from them by this narrow stretch of sea. Iridescent froth sparkled on the tops of small waves that extended as far as Hickory could see on either side. “Can everyone swim?” she asked.

  “It doesn’t look that bad—maybe a mile,” said Gareth, looking through the spyglass.

  “I haven’t been swimming for a long time,” said Barb, “but I did a mile at basic training.”

  “Swim like a fish,” said Paddy. He smacked his oversized chest. “Or a whale more like. Anyway, the distance won’t bother me.”

  Jess looked doubtfully towards the mountain, then sighed. “I don’t suppose we’ve much choice, do we?”

  Hickory shook her head. “I know we’re all tired, but we have to get to the island as quickly as we can. So here’s the plan. We don’t have the tools to make a raft big enough to carry us all, and even if we did it would take us days to build. Instead, we make a small one to float our backpacks on and push it in front of us. We can get that done in a couple of hours, then we eat and rest up until the morning. Hopefully, the crossing will look eas
ier in daylight.”

  “Who needs sleep?” said Gareth. “We’ve only been on the go for fourteen hours.”

  Jess and Barb searched for wood along the edge of the forest, and Gareth and Hickory trimmed and tied the pieces together with vines to form a makeshift raft. When they finished, Hickory looked at it critically. “It should do the trick. The water is flat, and there’s not that much of a current.” They retreated to the Bikashi jet, ate sparingly from their rations then huddled together in their weather packs.

  Jess heard Barb sniffling softly and put an arm around her. “Don’t cry, little one. Things will look brighter in the morning. You’ll see.”

  “I can’t stop thinking about Jack. What a terrible way to die.”

  “Were you close to him?” said Jess.

  “He was a nice guy, but no…we weren’t close—not in that way. It’s just…that monster! It ripped him to shreds. What was it?”

  Hickory spoke in the darkness. “I’ve been thinking about that myself. I’m glad we didn’t bump into any others.”

  Gareth snapped his fingers. “That could be it, you know. It’s feasible this is a solitary animal—probably a male—and Jack could have unwittingly trespassed on its territory. The beast probably felt it needed to defend itself when it saw another large bipedal male.”

  Hickory felt unsure about Gareth’s explanation. In the second it fled past her, she’d seen that the beast was wounded, possibly by a sword. It had been in agony, and angry, and might have associated Jack with its pain. She guessed its attacker was one of the Bikashi. But she agreed with Gareth to help put Barb’s mind at rest. “I think it’s a jungle creature, so we shouldn’t meet more of them—not out here anyway.”

  Hickory woke early but lay until the first rays of daybreak pushed the darkness back. She made a hot infusion of herbs that refreshed her more than her sleep and then, as Prosperine’s bright orange sun came over the horizon, she woke the others.