“You don’t sound too confident,” Nam said.
“It’s not that, sir,” Saadi said. “I’m having trouble with astronomical calculations.”
Myell tilted his head back. He could see plenty of stars, but no recognizable constellations.
Nam poured himself more coffee. “Is it your equipment?”
“No, sir. The bugs are fine. But they’re not getting a fix. I’ll keep working on it.”
After dinner, Nam sent Lavasseur and Myell back to the snowy woods. They didn’t find any bones or clothing, but on the fringe of their search area Lavasseur found something much, much larger.
“Down there,” he said, pointing down a steep slope.
A Father Sphere lay in a ravine about two dozen meters below, a great gray hulk in the moonlight. Part of its surface was smashed in. A Mother and Child lay nearby, apparently intact but coated with snow.
“Dr. Gayle’ll love it,” Lavasseur said.
Lavasseur radioed in a report. Within moments Nam and Gayle were traipsing through the woods toward their position. Gayle wanted to climb down the slope immediately.
“Damaged Spheres are rare,” she said. “If we could find out what happened to it, whether it was natural or from other causes … and we can see if the other two are working.”
Myell steeled himself for another argument but Nam forestalled it by saying, “No one’s going down there in the dark. We’ll assess the climb in the morning. Everyone back to camp.”
Gayle muttered something under her breath. They all trudged back through the snow to the beckoning fire. Saadi had been working on his calculations while they were gone. He reported that sunrise would be another eight hours. The GNATs had told him that they were in the northern latitudes of the planet, but they still hadn’t identified any of the stars.
“We might be completely out of the Milky Way,” Gayle said eagerly. “The first interstellar travelers to do so.”
“M81, M31, M10—shouldn’t matter. I’ve got everything loaded here,” Saadi said, and went off to consult more equipment.
Nam hadn’t said anything about Myell’s earlier refusal to explore other Spheres on the planet of marsupial lions. Surely the matter wasn’t settled. Myell could feel Nam’s gaze on him every now and then, a frowning assessment. Nam split the night watches between Collins, Saadi, Lavasseur, and himself. Breme and Gayle shared one tent, and Myell got to be in the tent with a rotating roommate. He fell asleep with Saadi in the adjacent sleeping bag and woke when Collins took his place.
“You could freeze your ass off out there,” Collins said, rubbing his hands together. “I’m going to shoot Saadi. Not much colder, he said.”
Myell rubbed his eyes. He’d been dreaming of Jodenny and Karl back at home, and the way Jodenny smelled when she was sleeping beside him. “Maybe the GNATs are malfunctioning.”
“Sure. Whatever.”
“Breme okay?”
Collins slid into the sleeping bag that Saadi had vacated. “She’ll be fine. I’m actually surprised that the Blue-Q is working as well as it is. We didn’t get much of a chance to test it, what with the system down.”
“You don’t think traveling through the tokens killed Dr. Jiang and Dr. Meredith.”
Collins lifted up one elbow, punched his small pillow, and settled down again. “We’re still alive, and our Blue-Q is no different than theirs. Ensign Holt and Commander Gold wouldn’t endanger anyone by pushing through if they were sick. Neither would Commander Nam.”
Myell stared at the tent walls. Firelight outside cast a reddish glow.
“Nam’s a good man, you know,” Collins said. “He’s a lot of things. Completely committed to finding Commander Gold’s team. We all trained together at Swedenville. Could have been this team that went on the Bainbridge loop first, but they drew the lucky straw. Nam’s not going to let anyone stand in the way of finding them.”
Myell didn’t answer. After a while Collins’s breathing evened out. Myell waited for sleep, waited some more, waited as long as he could, but finally he crawled back into his parka and snowpants and boots and left the tent. Lavasseur and Nam were sitting by the fire, mazers close at hand.
“Wolves,” Nam said. “GNATs picked them up. A dozen of them traveling in a pack, two kilometers north.”
One of the wolves cried out, and the other animals answered in a long group howl. They sounded a lot closer than two kilometers. Myell took up residence by the fire, though Nam didn’t see fit to give him a mazer.
“Did Chief Saadi get his astronomical fix?” Myell asked.
Nam shook his head. “The data doesn’t make sense. Some of the stars almost match, but the constellations aren’t where they should be.”
Myell gazed skyward at the smattering of stars visible through bare trees. “Those marsupial lions you killed. On Earth, they’ve been gone for fifty thousand years. We know that Fortune and the rest of the Seven Sisters are as old as Earth, share similar fossil records and evolution of species. None of these planets appear any different. So what are fifty-thousand-year-old lions doing running around?”
“You’ve got a theory?” Nam asked mildly.
“Stars drift and constellations shift,” Myell said. “Maybe enough, over the millennia, to confuse the GNATs.”
Nam warmed his hands by the fire. “You think we’re traveling in time as well as space.”
Lavasseur choked on his coffee. “Is that possible, sir?”
“Anything’s possible,” Nam said.
The wolves howled again, closer.
“Maybe we should head out, sir,” Lavasseur said. “If those things killed Dr. Jiang and Dr. Meredith—”
“We can handle a pack of wolves,” Nam said.
He wouldn’t want to retreat, not with the chance of more bones lying under the snow. But Myell doubted that they could hold off a dozen wolves without injury.
“Everyone else could take shelter in the Mother Sphere,” Myell said. “I can stay out here.”
Nam studied his gib, tracking the wolves. “Not necessary, Chief.”
The wolf howls woke the others, who emerged from their tents sleepy-eyed and anxious. Even Breme, who looked much better than she had when they arrived. For the rest of the long, uncomfortable night they sat huddled around the fire, listening to the circling wolves, making do with heated blankets and gallons of coffee. Myell must have slept, somehow, because after a long space of time with no thought at all, he opened his eyes and saw Nam looming over him.
“We’re off to explore those other Spheres,” Nam said. “Dr. Gayle found evidence of Commander Gold’s team. You’re coming along.”
Breme, Saadi, and Collins were left to guard the camp and mind the equipment. Gayle and Lavasseur were already out at the hillside, their breath frosting in the clear morning air. Sunlight bouncing off snow dazzled Myell’s eyes and the exposed skin on his face tingled.
“There,” Gayle said, for Nam’s benefit. “Cables and a harness. Someone climbed down there.”
The cable was military-issue, coated with a thin layer of ice. It snaked down the incline toward some bushes, where the yellow safety harness was snagged. Nam and Lavasseur freed it and tested its strength.
“I’ll go first,” Nam said. “Dr. Gayle, Chief Myell, you’re next. Sergeant Lavasseur, keep an eye out up here.”
Nam descended slowly. Gayle waited impatiently for her turn and told Lavasseur to lower her faster. Lavasseur rolled his eyes and disobeyed. When the harness came back up, Myell pulled the straps absurdly tight.
“Afraid of heights, Chief?” Lavasseur asked.
“Afraid of plummeting to my death,” Myell answered.
The incline was sharp and jagged. He was glad for his gloves and uniform, which protected him from the sharp bite of rocks and brush. Disturbed snow showed him the path Gayle and Nam had taken. Slowly he descended, trying not to get his boots caught between jagged outcrops. When he reached the bottom of the gully, he heard Gayle happily chattering on.
&
nbsp; “Imagine what could have happened here,” she said. “A force that smashed through the rock and wrecked the token.”
He followed her voice to the broken Father Sphere. Half of it was crushed in, but the archway was intact. The wind smelled like ash and the walls, in places, looked seared. Daylight fell through breaches in the ceiling and landed on piles of snow-covered stones. At the Sphere’s center, an ouroboros jutted out of more snow. It was twisted and misshapen.
Gayle patted the dull metal. “If we can bring this back with us, it’ll be the treasure of the century.”
Nam frowned. “Bring a token through another token? Sounds like the kind of thing that doomed the Yangtze.”
“Not the same situation,” Gayle retorted.
Myell drifted away from their argument. The gully was full of crooked trees and boulders. It sloped downhill and then leveled off. The shin-high snow was easy to stomp around in. The Mother Sphere lay several meters away and didn’t appear damaged. He didn’t go into it. The smell of smoke persisted on the wind, making his nose itch. A forest fire, he thought, but in winter?
Then he rounded the Child Sphere and froze in place.
A few meters away, a fire burned against the Child’s exterior. Red flames licked at a pile of kindling. A small creature was crouched next to the fire, warming itself. It had two thickly muscled arms and legs under green leathery skin. The head was bulbous, almost like a dinosaur’s. Two eyes, nose holes, large teeth. Tufts of hair stuck out on the back of its head and it had feathers—no, it wore feathers, a cloak of white and gray thrown over boots and trousers.
Myell didn’t move, didn’t dare breathe.
Lying on the ground nearby was another of the creatures, much larger. It was unmoving and coated with snow. The smaller creature went to it, patted it fretfully, then went back to the fire. It made a second trip, patting again, making a faint whining noise. Mourning it. The larger alien—parent? mother?—was unmoving, and there was a black pool underneath it that might have been frozen blood.
Myell had encountered the Rainbow Serpent during his journey out of Warramala but never any aliens, no true-to-life other species. If Team Space had a standard operating procedure for first contacts, he didn’t know it. Myell shifted his weight from one foot to the other. It would probably be best to get Commander Nam or run like hell—
The small alien snapped its head up, alarmed, and flattened itself against the Sphere with a little cry.
“It’s okay,” Myell said. “I’m not going to hurt you or anything.”
It put its clawed hands over its eyes and trembled.
Myell opened his arms in what he hoped was a reassuring gesture. “No, really. It’s okay. I’m probably more scared of you than you are of me.”
The alien made a peeping noise.
“Or maybe not,” Myell said. “Are you alone? Can you speak?”
The alien child—because it was a child, Myell decided, a youngling of some kind—lowered its hands and tilted its head. It was intelligent, certainly. Alone in this frozen wilderness, with only the corpse of its parent for company.
“Chief Myell,” said Nam’s voice from behind him. “Move very slowly. Back away.”
Myell risked a glance over his shoulder. Nam had his mazer out and trained on the alien. Gayle’s mouth and eyes were wide with surprise, but she had erred on the side of caution and was hiding, in part, behind Nam.
The alien child sniffed the air but didn’t cower at the sight of more humans.
“I think it’s on its own,” Myell said. “The parent died.”
“I don’t care if it’s the saddest orphan in the galaxy,” Nam said. “Move. Very slowly.”
Myell tried to inch backward but lost his balance on underfoot ice and went down to the snow with a thump. The child cried out and darted to the corpse for safety.
“Don’t shoot it,” Myell said.
Nam tracked it with his mazer but didn’t fire.
“We need to capture it alive,” Gayle said. “Bring it back to Fortune.”
Nam keyed his radio. “This is Nam. We’ve got Yips in the ravine, two of them, one possibly deceased. Chief Saadi, send your GNATs to my location. Breme, secure the camp.”
“Yips?” Myell asked. “What’s a Yip?”
The child patted the corpse again, tugging at its clothing. A moment later it made a chirping noise and extended its right hand toward Myell. The hand had four fingers and a thumb, and claws extended out from the knuckles. The creature offered a clump of dark material that Myell couldn’t easily identify.
Gayle said, “It’s a peace offering. Take it, Chief.”
“Dead flesh,” Nam said. “Some offering.”
The alien child must have sensed their disapproval. It withdrew the gift and swallowed the flesh with one large gulp.
A challenging cry cut through the air—angry, fearful. Myell turned to see a third alien striding out from the distant woods. It was much larger than the child, probably twice its size, with a dark cloak and a silver helmet. It had a weapon in one clawed hand, some kind of rifle that spat out red bolts like drops of burning lava. It screeched and made clicking noises, and raised the weapon toward them.
“Run!” Nam ordered.
Gayle sprinted away, nimble despite the snow. Nam grabbed Myell’s arm and jerked him upright. The adult continued to advance with screeches and more dripping lava. Nam shoved Myell toward the Mother Sphere and said, “Take cover!”
Once inside, Myell fell to his knees. Gayle was already there, hands on her knees as she gulped in air. Nam fired at the alien from the archway. Myell took a quick peek and estimated it was about thirty meters away, moving quickly through the snow.
“We’re under attack,” Nam radioed to the base camp. “Copy me? Two Yips, one of them armed—”
The adult fired again. This time the lava shots merged into a tight, hot beam that slammed into Nam. He collapsed immediately. Myell grabbed for his mazer but it fell outside the Sphere, and more lava bolts made it impossible to retrieve. The air smelled burnt and hot, ready to fry his skin.
“The token!” Gayle said, and he heard the sweet call of an inbound ouroboros. She scrambled to her feet. “It’s our only chance!”
“We’ll be lost,” Myell said.
“Otherwise we’ll be dead!”
The ouroboros arrived. Nam was unconscious, maybe dead. Myell dragged him backward into the ring. The adult alien appeared in the archway, weapon aiming for Myell’s chest, screeching out a protest—
Then the yellow light took them, and Myell was happy for the void.
CHAPTER TEN
At the next station Myell dragged Nam out of the ouroboros. The Sphere was dark and hot around them. Gayle followed and went to her knees, vomiting thinly into the dirt.
“Commander,” Myell said. “Wake up.”
“The token.” Gayle turned to it and starting counting glyphs aloud. “Twenty, thirty, forty, forty-five—I don’t recognize any of these symbols—that’s almost like Mary River Oakdale, but not quite—”
Nam was breathing, but his face and limbs were slack. Myell rubbed his breastbone and slapped his cheeks until his eyes opened into little slits. Behind them, the token departed with a flash of yellow.
Gayle said, “Goddammit.”
“Wh’we?” Nam mumbled.
“What?” Myell asked.
“Where we?”
“Not sure yet.” Myell watched Gayle walk to the archway. Sunlight outside, hot air. No more snow. “How do you feel?”
Nam didn’t sit up. Drool had accumulated at the corner of his mouth. He swiped his lips clumsily with the back of his hand. “They follow us?”
Myell sat back on his heels. “You call them Yips. Why?”
Nam squinted at him. “Where’s Dr. Gayle?”
“Did you know there were aliens in the network?”
Nam squeezed the bridge of his nose. “Gayle. Go with her. Who knows what’s out there.”
Myell wanted to argu
e more, to demand answers, but he hauled himself to his feet and passed under the archway. The marshland surrounding them was cracked and baked from drought. Dried-up creeks stretched out in all directions, punctuated by eucalyptus and gum trees. Insects buzzed in the scrub bushes that surrounded the Mother Sphere and the two Children that flanked it.
Gayle was stomping around, glaring at everything as if personally affronted.
“No equipment whatsoever,” she said. “My gib, the Blue-Q, all of our resources—back at the base camp.”
“Who are the Yips? And why didn’t you mention the fact that we might run into them?”
Gayle gave him a narrow look.
“Focus, Chief. We have more important things to worry about right now.”
Myell’s fists ached. He unclenched them and rubbed them against his thighs. It was ridiculous to keep his winter coat on and he wrenched it off, and dropped his thermal sweater next to it.
“Don’t look so aggrieved,” Gayle said. “You knew there was intelligent life out in the network. You spoke to a snake, didn’t you? So if there happen to be some Bunyips running around, that’s no surprise.”
“Bunyips?” Myell asked. “What kind of name is that?”
Nam appeared in the Mother Sphere archway, clutching it for support. His pallor was awful. “Old urban legend.”
“Not an urban legend. A folk myth,” Gayle said. “A creature in the Australian bush rumored to have feathers and scales and a terrible screech.”
Nam squeezed his eyes shut against the brilliant sunlight. “Not a myth any longer.”
Myell thought of the alien child proffering dead flesh. “What about everyone else? Do they know about them?”
Gayle stopped pacing and pulled off her coat. Her T-shirt was already damp with sweat. “Will you stop considering yourself a victim of some conspiracy? You didn’t need to know.”
“Is the rest of the team safe?” Myell asked icily.
Nam started sliding down the archway as his knees buckled. “They can protect themselves.”
The Stars Down Under Page 10
