“Cortanus… what did you do?” he said, his suspicion rising.
“I was programmed to protect you three at all costs, especially when one of you is alone. The odds are too far out of your favor, Cyrus, for me to allow you to leave. If you go out, the odds are in favor of you dying, as you almost proved the first time you left.”
“Oh, so it’s OK if you let me out when I’m insane, but not when I want to rescue someone?” he said, though he made his way back to the lab room, figuring he should at least work while arguing.
“There is one person whom I must obey, no matter what my program says.”
Crystil.
“And why does… no, never mind, that doesn’t matter. What does matter, Cortanus, is you realizing—”
The ground violently shook as it sounded like a giant boulder had crashed into the ship. Cyrus waved his arms to catch his balance the equipment in the room shifted. Shortly after the tremors stopped, the sound of heavy breathing and a deep growl surrounded the ship.
I’m gonna die in the one place I thought I was safe, Cyrus thought. On the wall, a visual came, showing the creature just to the right of the ship, peering down at it, like Celeste would at her lab subjects. He could only pray the beast showed the same mercy—or, really, lack of interest—to him that Celeste did.
On the projection, text appeared. “Do not make any noise. Don’t not move.”
Another deep rumble came as the creature shuffled its feet, positioning itself over Omega One. Cyrus braced himself for the moment when it would open its jaws and destroy everything. He silently wished that they’d left Monda on a battleship, not a transportation cruiser.
He did get one silver lining, though, a lining so thin that without straining he couldn’t see it. He could see more of the creature than he had before. Its talons and claws proved even sharper than originally thought, but also slightly unwieldy like the beast would have trouble gripping. Cyrus failed to see how that could possibly provide any benefit—especially when it had the two other arms to act as spears—but at least this proved that it wasn’t a perfect nightmare.
The monster leaned forward and sniffed the ship. Cyrus saw the condensation from its nostrils. Its eyes glowed a fierce yellow, and its pupils seemed unsettlingly large in the night sky. The creature placed one of its hands onto the ship, producing a loud thud, followed by the painful sound of metal crunching.
Make it quick, man. I don’t wanna die screaming. I wanna die not even knowing how you killed me.
The creature reared its head back, and Cyrus closed his eyes, convinced he would die.
Then he heard a half-second of a loud cry before he went deaf. He fell to his knees and saw the container holding the water and skull had shattered. He started to swear, but it transformed into a muffled grunt, still fearful of what stood above the vessel.
Cyrus turned back to the projection, his hands over his ears, and breathed a much-needed relieved sigh when the creature vanished into the blackness of the night sky. Slowly, his hearing returned.
“How much of the water and bones did you analyze, Cortanus?” he asked, barely caring about the answer given he still had his life.
“As much as I could. I do not need its physical presence anymore since I have its data. Should Celeste return, I can even run projections and create artificial replicas for her to analyze if she wishes.”
Should she return.
“You have an awfully cold way of speaking, Cortanus, just saying.”
“Odds are rarely warm in survival missions, Cyrus.”
Cyrus found himself wanting to argue the point, but even the cocksure Cyrus knew logically he couldn’t win such an argument. His ears still ringing and his body still in near-shock from adrenaline overload, he went to the cockpit in a daze. Only when he sat down in the pilot’s chair did he snort in amusement. How angry would Crystil be if she saw him in her chair?
“How’s the damage to the ship, Cortanus?” he asked.
“Minimal. It isn’t as aesthetically pleasing as it once was, but all operational systems are completely functional.”
“Well, I’ll just have to tell the ladies I had a painting accident,” he joked. “OK, but seriously, let me ask this. Did the monster leave any trace of itself? Anything we can analyze to figure out what this thing is?”
“It’s likely it left something behind. If you can move quietly, there’s a hatch to the top of the ship you can use to examine any remains.”
“What,” Cyrus said. He’d thought for certain the only way in or out of the ship was through the belly. “There’s an entry point at the top of the ship?”
“Yes. It is camouflaged, but yes.”
How did I not know about that? He thought about saying something, but decided against it. Of all the things he wanted to fight, not knowing the presence of an entry point that he would almost certainly never use again wasn’t one of them.
Instead, he girded himself for a flight up to the beast’s level. He vowed to move as quickly as one could with the lightest of steps possible.
26
The airlock which Cyrus typically took to the bottom instead took him to the top. Cyrus wondered how the ship could suddenly override the normal descent.
The hatch above him opened and lifted him completely into the air. Cyrus had plenty of space to walk, and took a quick glance at the sky. He saw nothing. It didn’t reassure him.
With a lack of certainty, Cyrus walked as quietly as he could. Finding the spot where the beast had grabbed the ship was not difficult—its claws left clear indentations, even in the darkness of the night. Cyrus bent down and looked in the first divot. The metal had significant damage, and the entire imprint reeked of smoke, but he saw nothing. He moved to the second one and again saw the same thing.
On the third one, the one closest to the body of the beast, he saw what looked like a giant scale. He touched it, and it felt warm and oily. It’s what I’m looking for.
Without hesitation, he grabbed the scale and rapidly walked back to the hatch. He had trouble locating the hatch, but Cortanus dropped the platform slightly, making it visible.
Inside, no longer nervous about making too much noise, he quickly took the scale to the lab. It wasn’t going to easily fit into one of the research boxes.
“This will be the same if we cut it, right?” Cyrus asked cautiously.
“Yes, provided we are not cutting any vital organs, which would not seem to be the case.”
Cyrus gently laid the scale on a platform, adjusting it several times before taking a step back. A laser quickly burned through the scale and sliced off a piece small enough for Cortanus to analyze. Cyrus presented the piece and sat waiting.
“Interesting,” Cortanus said.
“I never like it when my artificial intelligence says things like that,” Cyrus said, his eyes growing wider. “What’s going on?”
“Well, much like your skull, it is clearly an artificial creation, albeit much older. But there’s something else that is peculiar, and I’ve never seen before. Based on its structure which I can pull…”
Cyrus waited as Cortanus seemed to calculate something that he wished wouldn’t come true.
“Yes, I can say with confidence of the 96th percentile that this is a creature that will not decay biologically without malicious organisms.”
Oh, lovely.
“Immortal.”
27
Crystil had deep fears beyond what she’d shown to Celeste.
As her commander, she didn’t want to express how concerned she was for the young girl’s injury. Too many battles in too many exotic, uncivilized locations with too many deadly creatures had shown Crystil in gory fashion what poison could do. She figured if Celeste knew the truth, she might panic and fail to return to the ship.
If that panic did come, however, they still had a couple of hours before the poison would overwhelm Celeste. Crystil also took comfort in how Celeste moved without complaints. This from the girl who seemed too soft on
Omega One to shoot a precora in training, let alone a true predator.
As the forest came into view, Crystil stole a glance at Celeste’s ankle. It had not swelled as much from the tourniquet, but the discoloring had become worse. Crystil feared Celeste had lost feeling in the foot and, in the worst of scenarios, would have to get it amputated. She had to know for planning purposes Celeste’s state of mind.
“Tell me how you feel, Celeste,” Crystil said.
“I’m fine,” she said. “Foot’s going numb, but it’s OK, I’m fine. Really. Once we get through the forest I’ll have Cortanus look at it, and we’ll be good.”
“If you need to stop, we—”
“I won’t,” Celeste said quickly. “I promise I won’t.”
That a girl.
Their progress had slowed because of Celeste’s limping, yet they moved at a pace that would leave them outside at night for the shortest of times. They would get to Omega One just as darkness came, and they’d hopefully get to dodge the beast.
When they got to the bottom of the mountain, Crystil’s mind raced to figure out an easy way past the poisonous flora. The opening they’d carved earlier remained, but such an opening hadn’t prevented Celeste from getting cut. They didn’t have time to cut a wider swath, either. Should’ve brought my flamethrower. Next time.
They paused in front of the opening, and Crystil went first. Carefully, contorting her body to avoid touching so much as a single petal, she managed her way through the thicket. She breathed a sigh of relief when got to the other side, and motioned for Celeste to follow.
Celeste took her first step with her good foot and slid her way through. Crystil saw the pain in Celeste’s face, and how her body shook. Crystil knew there was a good chance she’d have to carry Celeste for some portion of the trip, a task she had done many times before with heavier men. Such a challenge was not really a challenge, but she could not be unprepared, no matter how trivial the task ahead.
Then Celeste took her second step, and Crystil saw it happening before Celeste had even shifted her weight to her toes. The weak leg gave out, and Celeste fell forward. She suffered innumerable scratches. Whether it was one additional cut or one hundred, the damage remained the same—whatever time they had was significantly reduced, and now nothing short of sprinting would get them back in time.
“Celeste!” she cried out as Celeste tried dragging herself forward with her arms, crying out in pain.
Crystil bent down and grabbed her, pulling her away from the thicket. Crystil got nicked on the arm but did not stop. If it took over a day for the first wound to hurt Celeste, it would take much longer for it to affect Crystil. She lifted Celeste up.
“Can you walk?”
“Yeah,” Celeste said, the terror in her voice noticeable.
“Can you run?”
“I can try.”
“You need to do what you can. At this point, we have to outrun whatever poison is coursing through your body. I don’t care if you collapse from being out of breath, you can recover from that quickly, but you can’t recover from poison.”
Celeste nodded and limped ahead. Crystil ran a few feet ahead of her, and the two went into the forest, running as fast as Celeste could pace them. Crystil had her gun cocked as she kept an eye on her surroundings. Nothing appeared, but the darkening sky offered no reassurances.
Then she heard Celeste speed up. She felt optimistic.
But something else reached her ears that should not have. Multiple footsteps.
Crystil jerked around with her gun cocked. She grabbed Celeste with one hand, threw her to the ground, and fired her rifle with her other hand at the giant green arachnia. The creature squealed in anger, and Crystil fired another series of rounds. The arachnia climbed into the trees, vanishing from view, but its screams still echoed through the forest.
“Come on!” Crystil yelled, adrenaline pulsing through her.
The arachnia’s pained cries still came, but it knew the forest better than either human, and took advantage of that fact. Her eyes still in the sky, Crystil told Celeste to stand up.
“Stay directly on my back,” the commander said. “Yell if you see the creature.”
The two rushed, not needing silence. Crystil knew the arachnia knew their location. It was just a twisted version of predator-and-prey, where they were the target. Except the food, in this case, had weapons that could turn the battle. She’d seen the monster bleed. She knew she could kill—
“UP UP UP!”
Crystil raised her gun as the creature leaped from the trees. Without any hesitation, Crystil pulled the trigger, firing into the abdomen of the giant arachnia. The creature’s squeals hit a higher pitch as its momentum tackled both humans. Crystil hit the ground with a thud, and knew immediately she’d broken something in her free arm. The pain was intense, but not overwhelming. She scooted on the ground and found the animal’s face. It had hideous fangs, plenty long enough to gore her, and disgustingly large brown eyes. Crystil loaded the gun between the creature’s eyes and fired off three seconds’ of machine gun rounds, laying waste to the creature.
She found Celeste on the ground to the right of the arachnia, groaning.
“My head…” Celeste murmured.
“Come on, Celeste, get up,” Crystil said, grabbing her arm and yanking her up. “Just move forward. Don’t worry about anything else. I’ll take care of you.”
Woozy, Celeste moved forward, guided by Crystil. She regained enough sense to move toward the ship, but it became apparent she would need Crystil’s hand nearly every step of the way.
The blow to the head also slowed their pace down, and by Crystil’s estimations, they would spend at least another hour out, assuming they ran into no more dan—
A giant thud came, followed by the all-too-familiar growl. Crystil put a hand on Celeste’s mouth and dropped her to the ground. Crystil closed her eyes and tried to calm her breathing, but she heard an awful scratching sound, like metal getting crunched apart.
Omega One…
The ship is being destroyed.
Or is it?
The damage sounded more like a scratch, not full-scale destruction. Just don’t hurt the medical bay. Take out the cockpit. Destroy our living quarters. Anything but the med bay.
The two laid on the ground in silence. Crystil still had her gun on her in case another arachnia appeared, but she wanted nothing to do with it. She’d sooner wave a knife around than sound a dinner bell for the giant monster.
Finally, the creature emitted a furious roar and flew into the sky. It wasn’t until Crystil could no longer hear the flapping of wings and the monster’s cry that she grabbed Celeste. She would believe Omega One functioned as it had until she saw otherwise. To give up now was the ultimate sin.
“Come on, let’s go,” she said, her voice still quiet.
But when Crystil stood up, Celeste did not join her. She still moved, but she had entered into a barely conscious state, one in which her body would not walk.
“Son of a…” Crystil mumbled to herself.
She reached down, grabbed Celeste, and thrust her onto her shoulders. The position meant her firing accuracy, if she had to use her gun, would be compromised.
“Don’t give up on me,” Crystil said, a pause coming before she mumbled quietly, “Please.”
She began moving as fast as she could. She shed her backpack and rations, leaving her with just Celeste, her rifle, and her knife in her pocket. If they’d misjudged the location of the ship…
No. Focus on the mission. Return Celeste home safely. Nothing else matters.
Celeste yelped in pain at intervals, and Crystil knew if she lost consciousness, her body would shut down shortly after.
“Talk to me, Celeste, what’s going on?”
Celeste had no coherent response, instead blabbing and groaning about something incomprehensible. But it meant she was awake. Crystil kept up conversation as if she understood entirely.
Suddenly, she found the open
ing of the forest. But no Omega One. She cursed herself out and looked to the right. There was the ship, about half a mile away. She’d misjudged the path, but had gotten close enough.
“There it is! Celeste, you’re going to be OK. We’re going to get you better.”
Celeste had no response. Crystil could still hear her breathing, but that half mile could not go by quick enough. She sprinted with nothing but purpose driving her. She’d used up all her adrenaline, all her endurance, and all her strength just to get to this point. Her body ached, and her vision started to blur.
“Come on Celeste, stay with me, don’t go anywhere.”
Omega One, from what she could see, did not have any structural damage. That brought relief since it meant the beast had literally just scratched the surface, and nothing more.
She sprinted further, and estimated that she was about two hundred yards away.
Then her left foot failed to plant properly. Crystil felt one of the most painful, sharp sensations she’d ever felt from her shin. She fell forward as Celeste crumpled off her, rolling forward. Crystil, never one to react to most pain, screamed in agony as she reached down to her left leg. When she felt it, she felt the jagged edges of something extremely hard, almost like…
Bone.
She felt nauseous and refused to look down. She looked ahead and saw Celeste lying on the ground. Crystil was in too much pain to see if Celeste was still breathing or not. She tried dragging herself to the young girl, but the pain was turning to shock. Crystil was losing control of her body. She tried biting into her suit to grit it out, but it only slowed the shock, not prevented it.
“NOOOO!” she screamed as her body shook.
The last thing she saw before passing out was Celeste, eyes closed, lying on the ground, dying, followed by a sudden flash of white, blinding light.
28
Kastori Revelations (The Kastori Chronicles Book 1) Page 12
