by Dan Decker
Its eyes were atop its head, like a frog, and while I had assumed this was some sort of lizard—in my mind’s eye I had fought a pterodactyl—there were little tiny green feathers all over its body that I had mistaken for scaly skin. Its snout was more than half a foot and its teeth were two inches long. Its claws were a little thicker than the teeth and while maybe not as sharp, were more than three inches.
It had hand-like appendages that were attached to the end of arms that had flaps of skin like a flying squirrel. Its legs had flaps as well. None of the folds had feathers and its talons were like those of a chicken.
I had no idea how long I waited to make sure the creature was no longer moving, but I eventually stood while still holding my fist to its jaw. Once I had my feet underneath me, I released my hold, expecting it would start moving at any moment. I jumped back and waited.
Once I was sure it was dead I started jogging again or at least tried to. Blood dripped down my side, making it difficult to take more than a couple of steps at such a pace.
As I passed the empty guardhouse I couldn’t help but wonder if the attack had been orchestrated. It was a stretch to think Jeffords had planted this creature, hoping it would attack me, wasn’t it?
I slowed to a stumbling walk and rather than continue to do a lap, I cut through and headed towards the mess tent. Lucky for me, it was recognizable in the middle of camp because of its size. I’d only seen one building made from concrete, everything else was canvas.
As I made my way I hoped to run into somebody who might help. I’d seen soldiers during my previous laps.
Where are they now?
The temperature was hotter than it had been when we first left our tent, but the sun was not yet at its zenith, so I figured the hottest part of the day was still to come. By the time I reached the mess tent, my leg was covered in blood and was wet with sweat.
I didn’t know if block was water resistant, but I hoped its function would survive all the sweat.
As I entered the mess hall I was met by Jeffords.
“What are you doing back? You could not possibly have completed five laps.” He looked at me as he spoke, his face not betraying any emotion or thought as he took in my bloody side and the other wounds I had received from the creature.
I stared with a slack jaw, wanting to punch the man and smash his face, crushing his jugular in the way I’d done to the creature.
Could he not see I was covered with blood, that I was at death’s door unless I got immediate medical attention?
Instead, he chose to interrogate me about whether I finished my laps.
My hands balled into fists. I struggled for words.
General Roth walked into the tent just as I was about to open my mouth to let him have it. She took one look at me, brought up her watch and called for medical help.
Before the team arrived, my legs gave out and I fell to the rough, sandpaper-like floor.
Jeffords didn’t move.
Roth didn’t move.
Nobody came to my aid.
They watched me squirm as I disappeared into unconsciousness. The last thing I remembered was looking at Jeffords’ face and seeing him smile. I hadn’t been here more than a few days and I already had a mortal enemy.
Something about Jeffords made a mental connection to something from my past, but it disappeared as my vision went black.
15
I groaned when I opened my eyes and saw the familiar green canvas tent. Was there no escape? I had hoped it had all been a bad dream—though I did not remember anything from the moment I blacked out until this—but it was looking less likely.
It can’t be a dream if I keep waking up.
I tried to sit up but was in too much pain. Moreover, I had been secured to the bed. Somebody approached and I suppressed a frown when I saw Dolores, complete with the scowl she’d worn the first time I’d awoken.
“Don’t move,” she said coldly, as if talking to a disobedient child, “you are almost done.”
“What are you doing?”
“Healing you for the second time in as many days.”
“I was in the cocoon again?”
“Cocoon is slang. It’s actually called the HFBR or Human Flesh and Bone Rehabilitator. Most of us just call it the Rehabilitator. I don’t remember any other recruit who has required serious medical attention in the way you have. There is something wrong with you. You are going to die an early death.”
I gritted my teeth.
“It might help if you wouldn’t be so cagey with the truth.”
“You’ve been told as much as you can handle and I resent your accusatory tone. I have done nothing but tell you the truth, even when others would not have done so. You might think everybody is out to get you—maybe that attitude worked for you on earth—but you’ve got to let it go.”
I shrugged or at least tried to move my shoulders, but my whole body was secured. The only thing I could move was my neck. I decided to not challenge her again while under her care.
Judging by my surroundings I was in a treatment area. The room was small or at least seemed that way because of the equipment. There was a large device along the side of one wall I did not recognize.
Dolores pulled out a long needle from the side that had been maimed by the creature. After she was done she procured another needle and injected something into me. I felt a slight prick, but nothing else. My whole body was already numb.
I did not have a good track record, she was right about that.
Both times I’d been out on this new planet, I had returned to the infirmary within hours.
I couldn’t let this become the norm, but I didn’t see what I had done wrong the second time. I repressed a snort.
I don’t see what I did wrong the first time.
It’s not like I’d been overly difficult with these people. I had expressed skepticism about what they had told me, but they had to expect pushback.
It wasn’t my fault the grenling had attacked General Roth’s command tent.
Jeffords didn’t like me, the thought of him brought bile to my mouth. That’s why he sent me to do five more laps before lunch when I was already dead on my feet and at risk of dehydration. I was tempted to ask Dolores if I had blacked out because of thirst but figured I shouldn’t push it. I doubted doctor-patient confidentiality existed here. That sort of question could get back to Jeffords and infuriate him further.
Perhaps I could have kept running instead of approaching the ravine, but my actions had probably saved my life. I’d taken the creature head on instead of letting it ambush me.
The guardhouse was empty.
It would be unwise to dismiss my suspicions.
I did not regret investigating the noise. Both General Roth and Sergeant Jeffords had been explicit this was a dangerous place. It was the only point upon which I actually believed them, but that was because I had firsthand knowledge to back up their words.
My blood boiled when I remembered how Jeffords had acted like I had not put on block. I wasn’t going take crap from him, I didn’t care if he was in a position of authority.
I took a deep breath and let it out, thinking about Ricky and Ava. If there was ever a chance of seeing them again, I needed to get through this. My attitude would get me killed.
Or worse.
I couldn’t think of anything worse but wasn’t about to rule out the possibility that there was something worse here than death.
The thought of my death brought back the unanswered questions from the alleyway. Like something stuck in my teeth, I found myself trying to scrape at the issues, to figure out what that had all been about, but I could not dislodge the questions by summoning answers.
Dolores clucked her tongue and brought me out of my revelry. “Men like you die. Stop bucking against them and do everything they tell you.”
I wanted to explain how Jeffords had sent me to do laps while at the point of dehydration. Or how I’d been attacked by a creature in front of an empty guard
station.
Instead, I gave her a wan smile. “I’ll keep that in mind.”
“No need to get snarky,” she said, shaking her head.
I opened my mouth, intent on giving her an apology, but found I did not have the heart for it.
It felt like an hour before she finished. We passed the time in awkward silence.
Eventually, there was a clicking and a huge weight lifted from my body, though I could not see anything holding me down. As the pressure disappeared so did the pain. “That will be it for today.” She snorted. “Unless you’re back this evening. I gave you good advice, Earl. I hope you think about it.”
I eased up, expecting my muscles to burn, but I felt fine. My legs should have cramped from pain and my side should have been torn. My skin should have hurt around my wounds, but everything was back to the way it had been before the attack. I was hardly worse for the wear. I kicked my legs over the edge and found I was a foot from the ground.
“Careful,” Dolores said, “there’s a bit of a jump.” She gave me a small smile and stepped back. As I grabbed the side of the bed and hefted myself down, I realized it was the first empathy I’d seen from the woman.
Was she warming up to me?
“Thanks for the heads up. I’ll try your advice, no snark intended.” I gave her what I hoped was a friendly smile.
“It doesn’t matter to me if you don’t.” She nodded toward the door. “I’ve notified them that you are ready to go. Somebody will be here shortly. You can wait outside.”
As I walked toward the exit, she grabbed my hand, and I felt her pushing something into my arms. It was my hat; the block and shades were inside.
“Don’t forget to lather on your block and set your timer.”
“Thanks.”
She sniffed disdainfully.
There weren’t any chairs where she had told me to wait, though it looked like the room of cots where I’d first awoken. After I’d lathered on the block and set my watch, I paced, playing with my shades while testing my body for any problems.
It really did seem as if everything was back to the way it had been. I credited my large body and readymade strength as well as the Rehabilitator.
Whatever else was wrong about this place, their technology was awesome.
Jeffords had been in the infirmary with a head injury. If the rehabilitator could fix things so quick, why hadn’t Dolores just used it on him? The hat he’d worn today covered the area of the bruise, but I suspected if I knocked it off, he would still have the injury.
Perhaps the Rehabilitator cannot fix head injuries in the way it fixes other things.
I stretched, starting with one shoulder and moving to the other. Next, I did my abdomen and moved to my legs and arms. I had a feeling this was the only rest I would get before being thrust right back into training. It was best to get limber while I could.
My stomach growled as if it were hungry, but it was tumultuous, making me think that even if I did choke something down, I would throw it back up. Dolores had unhooked tubes from my arm right before the weight had lifted, so I assumed it had given me nourishment. I no longer felt lightheaded and while my throat was parched, I didn’t feel dehydrated.
I might have been more appreciative if I wouldn’t have been their captive.
After I finished my calisthenics the person assigned to get me still hadn’t shown up so I did a little more. After a while I couldn’t think of any more stretches so I tried jumping jacks.
Sweat covered my forehead a hundred reps later. I had done them without the slightest pain. I started to go faster. My stamina was already better than it ever had been on earth. I would sometimes get winded going up the stairs at work. My wife had always nagged me to do something about my weight, particularly after the heart attack, but there had just been so much pressure that whatever free time I had was spent with family. The most I’d ever done was jog a couple times a week.
“You have a lot of energy for a man who almost died.” There was a long pause and I expected the speaker to say “again,” but he did not.
Jeffords stood in the doorway, holding back the canvas door with one hand.
I stopped midstride, lowered my hands, and put them behind my back so he didn’t see me form them into fists. The man had almost got me killed and did not have the slightest regret.
The memory of his smile as I blacked out came back to me, tugging at something from my subconscious. It slipped through my mind as I reached for it.
My first instinct was to pounce, pounding him into the ground, making him feel pain, turning him into a bloody pulp, perhaps crushing his windpipe like I had done to the creature at the ravine.
Ricky’s face came to me, squealing as I tickled him.
I took a deep breath and let it out. I might be able to take this man and beat him down in the way I wanted, but that would not serve my purposes. However good it might feel, it would not serve my long-term strategy.
“I have laps to finish, sir. Would you like me to do so now?” I started off speaking through clenched teeth, but at the end I was talking normally enough.
My words took him off guard, he had even braced as if expecting me to attack. If I ever did such a foolish thing he would have reason to kill me.
I couldn’t help but give him a wicked smile with my words. My body was renewed, doing more laps wouldn’t be a problem. While it might not get me on his good side, offering it up might ease the tension.
I might just win him over yet.
Jeffords nodded. “Ten laps to make up for being slow.”
“Yes, sir.”
I trotted out the door at a quicker pace than a walk but did not quite jog. I refrained from looking back as I broke into a run at the door. When I approached the ravine I kept as far from it as I could, not wanting to tempt fate again.
I gave the dead creature a wide berth and was surprised it already appeared three days decomposed. It was dry, its mouth was open, and it was much smaller than it had been when it had attacked.
My third encounter with an alien species, I thought, and I managed to kill it. The other two contacts also ended with death. This doesn’t bode well.
The latest creature seemed more like an animal, the grenling had been intelligent by comparison.
Nobody had ever told me what had happened to the grenling, but I assumed it had been killed by a ship.
I wasn’t surprised to see the guard tower was manned.
My paranoia was in full swing as I passed, feeling their eyes on me as I did. When I glanced up, I noticed one of the soldiers was a woman. Unlike the general, her long dark hair was tied in a ponytail.
I wiped sweat from underneath my shades as I continued, wondering why the tower had been empty when I was attacked.
Maybe once I knew more about the camp I would learn there was a reasonable explanation, but for the moment it just sent my suspicion into overdrive.
The sun was on the far side of the horizon and while I had no basis for the belief, I naturally thought of that direction as west. I had no idea how much time was left before sunset, but one of the two moons was directly in front of me, opposite the setting sun. It blazed brighter than the moon back home ever did. I surmised that it reflected the sun and was not a ball of burning gas itself, but could not say for sure because I had to squint. It had not been this bright the first time I had seen it.
On my next lap there was more activity around camp than there had been before. On my third, I looked for the grenling on the broken plain, but its body was gone.
As I circumvented camp I searched the broken plain once again, looking for footprints the creature might have left. The span of its foot had been almost as long as Jeffords was tall. I had a considerable view of the surrounding area but saw nothing. The ground was hard and I could not find a sign of my own passing, but the large creature should have left something.
Perhaps they lied when they told me I was in the Rehabilitator for a couple days, maybe it was a couple weeks. I had no
way of knowing the difference. Dolores had claimed the second visit to the Rehabilitator had been mere hours, I would see if that proved true.
When I finished the laps my legs burned but not like they had before. My muscles were sore, but I could run another five if needed.
Something likely to happen before the day is over.
I went to a wooden flag pole that bore an insignia I didn’t recognize, placed my hands against it and did some stretches. I attributed my better experience in part to the calisthenics before the run.
I did not stretch for long and without knowing where else to go, headed towards the mess tent, hoping to find the others. I should have asked Jeffords for instructions, but he probably would have done something to trip me up anyway, so perhaps it was better I had not.
The mess tent was almost empty, the only people there were preparing the next meal.
How would I like to be conscripted into an army and made a cook? I shook my head. At least that would be safer than a soldier.
I looked at my ham sized fists and did not think they were going to put me behind a stove.
My stomach groaned when I smelled food. Although I could not identify what it was, it smelled like meat and vegetables. I doubted they would give me a meal just for asking so I did not try.
I ran into Jeffords as I was stepping out of the mess tent.
“What are you doing, maggot?”
I went stiff, my back ramrod straight, I didn’t know how to salute, but didn’t want to risk offending him any further than I already had.
“What are your orders, sir?”
I assumed it was obvious I had been looking for him so I did not explain myself. I realized after the fact he might take the opportunity to ding me for insubordination because I had failed to answer his question. It didn’t help I was in a place he had not expected to find me. I was about to open my mouth to answer, but he spoke first so I snapped it shut and looked at him with rapt attention.
“I do not appreciate your attitude, work on it.”
“I will do that, sir.”
Jeffords shook his head. “Follow me.”
