Jupiter's Glory Book 1: The Dinosaur World

by Adam Carter

  “You’re telling me there are sabre-tooth tigers on this world?”

  “Sabre-tooths. Sabre-tooth cats if you have to, but please don’t call them tigers.”

  “Stop correcting everything I say. Are you telling me there are sabre-toothed tigers on this world?”

  She narrowed her eyes at me, not happy with my stubbornness, but if I was going to die I was not going to do it while arguing semantics. Nor did I argue the point that surely they would be called sabre-teeth and not tooths; after all, I did not want to be a hypocrite.

  “Yes,” she said. “It appears there are.”

  “Great.” I looked about, but could see nothing. To the one side we had the rising rock wall, to the other a plain of rocks and gravel as far as the eye could see. If there was a cat out there it could well have been hunkered down watching us and we would never know it was there. “All right, talk to me about them.”

  “I don’t know what kind of cat we’re facing, not from just its droppings.”

  “So you don’t know everything?”

  “Do you want to score points off me or do you want to survive this?”

  “You’re the one with the gun. I’ll have to face this thing with my charm and my wits, so maybe it’s best you tell me what I could be facing.”

  “Something big, fierce and thankfully lonesome.”

  “They didn’t hunt in packs?”

  “I don’t think so, but the droppings didn’t indicate that, anyway. We’ll know more once we catch sight of it.”

  “I have a feeling by that point it might be killing me.”

  “Then at least I’ll be able to analyse it enough for me to survive.”

  I cast her a dirty look, but she was too worried to even notice.

  “If we move quickly enough,” she said, “we could be out of its territory by nightfall.”

  “Why? What happens at nightfall?”

  “Cats have amazing eyesight. You ever seen a pride of lions take down an elephant?”

  “No.”

  “Neither did the elephant. Pitch-black and the lions could still organise themselves into a unified fighting force.”

  “You’ve convinced me. Stop talking.”

  I set off at a brisk pace, Arowana likely behind me. I was warier than I had been, but the flat terrain did nothing to belie my fears. We had not been walking for more than a few minutes before I heard a low roar building behind me. I’m not ashamed to say I froze, which is a perfectly natural reaction when one is faced with imminent death. In the very next second something collided with me from behind and I screamed, although Arowana clamped her hand over my mouth even as she forced me to the ground. She was pressing us as close to the wall as she could, trying to gain some cover by a slight rocky overhang. I wanted to ask her what she thought that would do against a sabre-toothed cat, but short of biting her fingers I was unable to say much of anything.

  Then something streaked by overhead: a familiar black shape which roared like an angry bear. Dust and sand churned up before us as the jet passed and my eyes followed it until it had pulled around in its search.

  “I don’t think she saw us,” Arowana said, releasing me to stare up at the sky. I glanced at her gun and again contemplated seizing it, but again dismissed the idea. “She’ll be coming back for another pass soon enough. We should find cover.”

  I looked around. “There is no cover.”

  “Then we need to move more quickly.”

  “You want us to run?”

  “Mr Hawthorn, if we don’t move quickly Captain Taylor will find us and gun us down. Or, if we’re lucky enough for her not to return this way, night will fall and a large and savage cat will tear our flesh from our bones. If we’re fortunate we may even die before it rips out our insides and begins to feed.”

  “You raise some good points, Arowana.”

  “Move.”

  Needless to say, I moved. Quickly.

  CHAPTER THREE

  We did not make it far out of the wasteland before night fell, but we did indeed make it out. Beyond the gravel floor and crumbling cliffs lay a vast plain, formed mainly of grass but with a smattering of small trees thrown in for good measure. It was difficult to see how far it stretched, for the night on Ceres was dark, although even the blackness was tinged with a faint orange glow from the ever-present sight of Jupiter. We found a small tree in which to spend the night. The trunk was thick enough to hold our weight, while the branches exploded outward evenly so the thing resembled a mushroom. We had no special camping equipment so settled down as best we could. Arowana insisted we sleep in separate branches and kept her gun in her lap the whole time. I had no doubt if I turned over in my sleep I would make enough noise to wake her.

  “Arowana,” I said as I gazed up to the stars, “what do you want out of life?”

  “To sleep.”

  “Your whole life, all you want to do is sleep?”

  “No, right now.”

  I should have known. It was that thing women did, to answer a question so sarcastically that a simple soul like me felt stupid for taking them at their word. Undeterred, I ploughed on. “You must have some lifelong ambition, Arowana.”

  “Must I?”

  My eyes flickered over to her, but she was lying on her side and was paying no attention to me.

  “Everyone has dreams, Arowana.”

  She sighed and rolled over onto her back. I could see her profile, but she looked distant. “Since I’m not going to get a wink of sleep until I answer you, Hawthorn: yes, I do have dreams. I want to be away from Securitarn, far away. Somewhere they can’t possibly find me.”

  “Why don’t you just quit? The pay can’t be that good.”

  “I think they stopped paying me.”

  “Ah, that probably goes for the both of us. Seriously, if you want to leave Securitarn, just leave.”

  “It’s not that simple.”

  I didn’t like to argue with her, but yes it certainly was that simple. Securitarn liked to act as though they were a country unto themselves, equipped with a military and a hierarchy no one was supposed to argue with. But the truth was they were just a business that travelled. It seemed to me that Arowana was making a big fuss over nothing.

  “Me,” I said, “I only want one thing out of life. Can you guess what it is?”

  “Does it involve naked women, by any chance?”

  “My dreams don’t involve any women at all. I’ve learned my lesson there, thanks.”

  “Well that sounds rather sad.”

  “And now she pities me. No, come on, if you know everything, what’s the one thing I want out of life?”

  Arowana exhaled air noisily through her lips. “No idea.”

  I smiled. “All I want out of life is the fluid capacitor for a D-97. I asked my folks for one for my thirteenth birthday, didn’t get one. I kept asking every year until I was eighteen. For my eighteenth they got me a fluid capacitor for a D-84. Didn’t have the heart to tell them the thing was useless to me.”

  “Why do you want one? A D-97’s a type of motorbike, right? You have a bike?”

  “Nope. But that fluid capacitor … If only you could see it. It’s a thing of beauty, let me tell you. Far better than any woman in my life ever was.”

  “All things considered, maybe it was a good thing your parents never got you one. You might have shocked them by marrying it.”

  It was a typical woman’s reaction to my dream, and I had not expected Arowana to have been any different.

  “Mind if I go to sleep now?” she asked.

  “Ah, do what you like.”

  She turned over and that was that, I guess.

  Lying in that makeshift bower, I closed my eyes and fought so hard to drift off to sleep. The chirping sounds of nocturnal insects were intense, and I could only imagine how large the prehistoric crickets grew. Why there were dinosaurs and other prehistoric life on Ceres I had no idea, I don’t think anyone does, but the fact was they were there. An animal can kill
you just as easily if you understand it than if you don’t.

  The other problem with trying to sleep was that I was so thirsty. We had not happened upon any source of food or water and neither of us was carrying anything to satisfy either need. My body was so tired from all the walking, but the fatigue was countered by the adrenalin rush brought on by someone actively trying to kill me. Consequently, after still being awake two hours into our rest I became painfully aware I was not going to sleep.

  Plus, there was a strange cooing sound which was keeping me awake, as well.

  At first the sound was distant and I associated it with the tu-whit a barn owl makes and the tu-whoo with which its mate responds. After a while, however, the sound grew in intensity until I was reasonably sure whatever was making the noise was standing beneath the tree in which we were lying. For a while I resisted the urge to look, hoping that if I did not move, did not make a sound, the thing would move along. But it continued to coo, and each fresh noise sent shivers down my spine.

  Finally I could not bear it any longer and inclined my head to look down.

  The thing standing there would perhaps have come up to my waist. It had the same general build as the dinosaur I had seen before, but at the same time reminded me of a flightless bird. Its long legs were clearly designed for running, while its neck was equally lengthy, ending in a head with large eyes and a sharp and hard beak. From what I could see in the darkness, the animal was covered with feathers, completing my imagery of a bird, even though I could clearly see it was also a lizard.

  Relieved that this was not something likely to climb the tree and eat us, I relaxed a little. The creature looked at me curiously, tilted its head to one side and cooed again. I cooed back, mainly to see its reaction, but it did not register my sound. I looked around for something I could throw at it. If I had a spear I could kill the thing and we would have our breakfast once the sun rose, but I was no savage and would have probably only succeeded in impaling myself.

  “Hey,” I called up to Arowana. “Hey, wake up.”

  “What?” she asked groggily.

  “What’s this dinosaur called?”

  “What?”

  “There’s a dinosaur below us. What’s it called?”

  She looked down sleepily and turned over to go back to sleep. “Avimimus. It’s not going to hurt you.”

  “I know. I figured that out all by myself.”

  “Then why did you wake me up?”

  “Because I don’t like you? Because you dragged me all the way to this dinosaur world and you’re probably still going to kill me at some point?”

  “Let me go to sleep.”

  “No. What’s an avimimus eat if not us?”

  “Small things. Now leave me alone.”

  “He’s a cute fella, isn’t he?”

  “Hawthorn, shut up.”

  “If we find some of his bigger cousins, what are our chances of riding the rest of the way to wherever it is we’re going?”

  “Hawthorn.”

  “I like this fella. Think I’ll call him George. Hey, George, you like that name? George suit you?”

  The avimimus continued to coo quizzically for the next few moments. After that the night exploded in terror and blood as a large form pounced on George and tore out his throat so savagely that warm blood spurted upwards and spattered my face. I froze, unable to scream, unable even to blink. George thrashed madly on the ground, his every whine sending gouts of blood surging through what remained of his throat. His large eyes were widened almost to burst as he realised there was nothing he could do to prevent his death.

  Beyond him, in the cover of darkness, a massive silky shape skulked. The cat was far bigger than a cat had any right to be. It was difficult to be certain of anything in the gloom, but its body was easily longer than mine was tall. As for its height, I would have estimated it would come up to my chest, although again it was difficult to be sure since it was not only concealed but also crouched. The cat’s glossy coat was a dull yellow, slightly patterned as though it did not know whether it was a lion or a tiger. Its four limbs were all well-muscled and heavily padded so it did not make a sound. Its relatively small tail swished silently behind, while its head bore the rounded snout of any cat, its ears drawing back as it snarled. I could see a row of sharp teeth, and two huge downward-facing tusks, almost elephantine in nature and each as long as my forearm. The creature’s green eyes glowed in the night, reflecting the moonlight in a truly disturbing fashion.

  It had moved so quickly upon the avimimus that the poor beast had never known what had struck it. Now, like a shark, the great cat was waiting for its prey to bleed to death before moving in to devour its carcass.

  “Efficient form of killing, isn’t it?”

  I started, almost falling from the tree. Arowana had descended to my branch without my even realising. Her eyes were upon the cat, never wavering from the killer, making sure the great beast understood we were not ourselves prey.

  “It’s cowardly,” I said.

  “You want to call her a coward to her face?”

  “Poor George.”

  She did look at me then, although by that point I was the one unable to take my eyes from the scene. “The smilodon doesn’t want to risk damaging herself. Get in an early strike and sit out the struggle while the prey dies. It’s effective.”

  “That’s what it is, then? A smilodon.”

  “The most famous sabre-tooth, yes.”

  “If they’re so successful,” I said, not even knowing why I was getting so angry, “why did they go extinct?”

  “Too slow, probably. There’s a lot of bulk in that cat and as impressive as those teeth are they’re not all that strong.”

  “There you go again, knowing weird stuff.”

  “So long as it keeps you alive, you should stop complaining.”

  Arowana’s most annoying trait was that she was right all the time. Deciding not to tell her that, I chose to say nothing at all. After a short while – too short for such a beautiful animal – the avimimus breathed his last and the cat closed in. The nauseating stench of fresh blood was made only worse by the sickening crunch of bones as the cat snapped away whatever it needed to in order to get to the choice parts of the corpse. I watched as its snout came away bloody, releasing a clump of feathers.

  “Who would have thought you’d have to de-feather a dinosaur?” I asked.

  “It’s a shame she’s feasting under our tree,” Arowana said, looking about, having decided it was safe to take her eyes off the smilodon now it was engaged in its meal. “But then, I suppose she’s only here because you distracted her prey.”

  “So this is my fault?” I paused. “What’s my fault? It can’t get up here, can it?”

  “It’s a cat, of course she can get up here. But she won’t. That dinosaur will last her, and her cubs if she has any. If she doesn’t finish the carcass she’ll either bury it or drag it up a tree. Probably not this one, since we’re in it.”

  “She’s afraid of us?”

  “She has no idea what humans are. If nothing else, she wouldn’t drag a carcass into a tree in order to get it away from scavengers if there are two unknowns already in that tree.”

  “Right. So, what’s the problem with being in this tree, then? If this is my fault, what’s the issue?”

  “Maybe nothing. Maybe other smilodons, maybe those aforementioned scavengers. If any other animal comes to challenge her, one of them will lose out.”

  I knew what she was saying. “And they’ll take us as sloppy seconds.”

  “Since there are no other trees we could leap to, and since it’s too dark to see out there, I’d say we’re safer where we are for the moment.”

  I did not like the thought of having to stay in the tree, but again Arowana was right. I touched my fingers to my face, for it was wet, and they came away bloody. I remembered the spattering of George all over the place and my stomach lurched.

  “If you’re going to be sick, Hawtho
rn, do it over the side.”

  I turned my head to face downwards, but my hand missed the branch and fell through so suddenly I slammed my chin into the branch. Scrabbling for purchase, my other hand grasped something solid, but it turned out to be the handle of Arowana’s case so not something attached to the tree at all. With flailing arms I fell straight through the leaves and crashed to the ground with enough noise to wake the dead.

  However, of the two animals before me, it was not the dead one I had to worry about.

  Disturbed by the sound of my plummet, the smilodon’s head snapped up. I could see its eyes shining in the night, gazing directly upon me from barely five strides distant. It was the most fearful sight I had ever known and the next few moments were an eternity of blind terror. The great cat stared at me across the carcass of George, perhaps debating whether I was a threat, a potential second meal or something to simply be ignored. I froze where I lay, unwilling to make even a single move, lest the creature mistake my actions as threatening. Slowly, the eyes moved, slinking to the side as the cat opted to investigate me, and my heart hammered so hard in my chest that I was certain it was going to explode.

  Padding cautiously towards me, the smilodon finally stopped several paces away and stared. Its massive fangs were enough to convince me I was about to die, even though it seemed more curious than aggressive.

  “Hawthorn,” Arowana hissed from above. It struck me that she may well have been calling to me for some time by this point. “Hawthorn. Toss me the case.”

  I looked to the case I was still holding. Terror had frozen my fingers to the handle and I stared at it dumbly in my fear.

  “Hawthorn. Throw it up.”

  Perhaps the cat had heard the urgency in Arowana’s voice, perhaps it had simply grown fed up of inaction. Whatever the reason, the smilodon took another slow step towards me, and another.

  With a roar, I was moving without even realising I was doing so. Adrenalin fired through my veins, terror lent me strength, while desperation offered me motion. Some lowly part of my mind still operating had connected Arowana’s words with my predicament but instead of throwing the case up to her I launched myself forward and cracked the thing against the side of the smilodon’s face.