by Louise Wise
Jenny stopped, transfixed with horror.
Jets of smoke poured from its base. It rose slowly, but once airborne the craft swiftly disappeared into the pure atmosphere of Eden.
Her hoarse throat only allowed her a silent scream of anguish. She picked up handfuls of soft gravel and threw it pointlessly towards the fast disappearing Taurus.
“No….” she mouthed. “Don’t leave me here! Bodie, for God’s sake…”
Only the pounding of her heart answered her. It was a lonely sound. She stood for a long time with her head tilted back, looking up at the vastness, the emptiness, of the sky.
Finally she huddled in a shallow crevice away from the icy air, and curled herself into a small ball. The eerie silence stretched and played on her imagination, until she pressed a clenched fist against her mouth to stop from screaming.
Shadows lengthened and faded, and an unseen twilight fell as the remaining seven moons rose.
Her shock and the long voyage through space had exhausted her body, and she slept unaware, and for a sweet moment, her nightmare of being left on a desolate planet did not present itself in her dreams.
FOUR
She jerked awake. Her heart gathered speed as awareness caught up. It was night, yet in the light of the moons the dark was not total. And it was cold. Her fingers felt frozen, but her protective helmet, gloves and detachable computer system were lying on the back seat of the buggy, which meant she was without warmth and communication with Taurus.
But it wasn’t the cold that had alerted her. She sat on her hip, and looked over her shoulder. Nothing. Just strange trees and dense bush, and miles and miles of empty, frost-covered land.
Then she heard it. She started fearfully and jumped to her feet, heart beating furiously and adrenaline rushing her body. The noise was a howl. It was sub-human, evil; and the blood-freezing howl of some creature not too far away from where she had been sleeping.
She swung round, her breath sharp. She was an easy target on the plains - yet she feared the forest and the hidden dangers that lurked there. She felt scared, and for the first time since she was a child, vulnerable.
She studied the trees; the thick gnarled ones in particular. These seemed to be the only ones with leaves, sparse though they were. She moved towards them, their shadows were like gaping holes in the ground.
She made herself comfortable halfway up on a thick branch. Her vision was partially blocked by large leaves, but the broken UFO was visible in-between.
She patted foliage around her body, neck and shoulders, trying to insulate herself from the cold. But the cold was inside, in the shape of the stark knowledge that she had been left stranded in an unknown land.
The howling continued until her head buzzed with the noise. Goosebumps erupted on her skin and her teeth began to chatter, but she knew this couldn’t be blamed on the cold entirely. She was plain scared.
She watched the entrance to the foliage-covered spaceship, with a bleak awareness that if the alien had got onboard Taurus then Bodie and Matt were dead, and the shuttle was on its way to the alien’s planet. She couldn’t afford to think too much about Bodie’s and Matt’s death; the trauma of that was too much.
Her chin bounced against her chest and she came awake quickly. The nearest sun was low, and it lit the sky a pale yellow on the horizon. The other had not yet risen.
Jenny blinked, disoriented. She felt so tired. The howling of the wolves, if that’s what they were, hadn’t died down until dawn began spreading its golden fingers through the trees.
She wriggled a foot, and pins and needles swept her leg. She felt very cold, even her bones felt chilled. Clutching an upper branch for support, she shifted her position, and something warm and furry brushed against her fingers. She jerked her hand away, and something above sharply moved.
Looking up, she saw a creature with a bulbous tummy and four thin legs wrapped around the tree branch. Bright green eyes in a small, furry face chatted angrily in a language similar to chimpanzees. Then the animal drew back its lips and showed her a display of pointed teeth. Its blade-thin tail slashed the air, raining broken twigs on her.
She slid down the tree as the creature screeched angrily above, and moved in the direction of the spaceship, forgetting the monkey animal - survival was the only thing important to her now.
The door was still open, and she was certain the alien was no longer onboard, or even on the planet. What she was after was warmth and security, and his cabin offered both.
Without the torch, which she had lost somewhere, it was eerily dim. She stumbled along, her steps, one in front of the other, were automatic. She was too exhausted to think.
The cabin door was closed, but she pushed at the door, and as before, it fell open to her touch. It was warm in here. Stuffy. She felt her way to the bed and climbed on, wrapping the thick foil-type covering over her. Her eyes focused on bare metallic grey walls.
Somewhere, in the heart of the old spaceship, something began to knock. Tiny crustacean feet scuttled along the corridor outside, and Jenny cringed within the blanket. She gritted her teeth, and sat staring at the closed door daring it to open.
She noticed a rounded bottle on a synthetic, possibly plastic, table. The container was colored so she couldn’t see the contents. She flipped up the lid and sniffed. It smelled strongly but not unpleasantly, and she took an experimental sip.
An alien whisky.
She sipped again and enjoyed the warmth as it spread through her body. Shuffling backwards on the bed, she drew up her knees against her chest, clutching the bottle to her chest.
The alien limped towards the river. His kill, dragging behind, bounced over the uneven ground. He knelt at the bank; smashed ice with his fist then lowered his head for a drink.
Blood from the hunt, on his hands and face, colored the water, but this didn’t bother him, and he drank thirstily, finally wiping his mouth with the back of his soiled hand.
He splashed water over his face and neck, relishing the icy cold on his sweating skin. He hunted when the natives began their night calling, and it had been hot and thirsty work. The creatures were at their most vicious then, and it was a challenge that they hunted together. Sometimes it was a disappointment that he wasn’t the hunted.
The alien stood, stumbled on a weakened ankle, and cursed violently. His ankle had been broken and had knitted together during the first few months of being here, which had passed in a haze of pain and confusion. He had re-broken it himself and set it straight before putting it in a splint. And it had been fine, except he had fallen in a crevice during his chase after the humans yesterday, and now it ached again.
The visit of the humans had not only surprised him, but also bewildered him. His race, Itor, had been studying the blue planet and watched how its life forms evolved over the years. The humans had never known they were under surveillance, and never would, unless the Itor wardens declared otherwise. But their visit had come as a surprise because it was obvious the Itor probes hadn’t been correct - they still believed the human were uncivilized and unintelligent scavengers.
He snorted. Nothing could be more uncivilized than his race, and he was almost glad he was the lone survivor, although he had not escaped unwounded. The scars were evident on his face and body. His escape from this desolate planet had been so near. He could have overpowered every damned human onboard, and forced them to fly him home.
He could have tried harder, he knew that. But somehow, seeing the small craft lift into the sky was a relief.
His sigh was long and heavy. For the long years he had been stranded here, loneliness had been a terrible burden, but leaving had never been an option so when a chance came, without time to think, he seized it. But now he realized that allowing the spaceship to take off without him wasn’t as unintentional as he had first believed.
He had not returned to his cabin after watching the humans” small craft disappear into the sky. His confused emotions needed him to be outside with the elements, and
not sandwiched in confining walls.
He looked briefly at his shelter, badly storm-damaged from the long winter. Now the meteorological conditions were settling he could start repairing the damage. He intended to build it stronger than before. The environment wouldn’t catch him out again.
He squinted up at the sky. The brightness of the suns hurt his eyes; it had taken months before he had become accustomed to his sunny new world. Would the humans come back to it? He pushed a scarred hand through his long black hair. They would. Maybe not in his lifetime, but they would.
He knelt, dismissing them and, using claws that extended from the tips of his fingers, he began to deftly skin the hoofed animal and disembowel it.
Her fingers uncurled from around the bottle and it fell harmlessly to the floor. Jenny, her face flushed with alcohol, slept peacefully.
His kill was roasting on a spit over a roaring fire. He ripped off a leg, and his teeth tore into the flesh, splashing blood over his face and hands.
Eating his fill, he smothered the fire with the carcass and dragged the remaining uncooked meat back to the ship. Dropping the kill inside, he moved forward.
In the corridor, he eyed the two stinking bodies. These were the last to be disposed of on this floor. He had wanted no reminder of the people he had fought against, and ridding the spaceship of the bodies also dismissed them from his mind.
Strad was the overseer, but he hated him, and had a certain perverse satisfaction of stepping over the rotting body, knowing he had survived while the other man had not. He took hold of the fetid ankles of the other body and dragged it out.
On the edge of the forest were the graves. He dropped the body and began digging another with a spade made out of animal bone and wood. The head of the spade broke several times and he mended it without fuss or anger.
Jenny replaced the bottle on the table. She felt slightly inebriated, but the light-headedness had dulled the overwhelming sense of being left stranded.
With the aid of the alcohol, she felt eager to explore and find food of some description. She left the cabin, dimly aware that once the effects had worn off she would feel as vulnerable and as useless as before.
She stepped over the body in the corridor, and once in the navigation room she began looking around. She finally relieved her itch and touched the computer module. But nothing happened. The ship, as she had known, was dead. She moved forward, then stopped short.
Slowly, with a frown marking her brow, she turned and faced the dark corridor.
One body?
Maybe she was more intoxicated than she had thought. No - there was definitely only one body when there should have been two.
Her heart began thumping, and the air around her felt too thin. She ran blindly towards the exit, motivated by the desire to leave as fast as possible. There was a fresh patch of blood beside the stain, and next to that was the mangled body of a large animal.
She fell, skidding to her knees. It had been skinned and dismembered roughly, as though torn in some angry frenzy.
Jenny’s eyes widened, her nostrils flared, and her lungs filled with a scream.
He kicked the body into the grave and watched it fall with a dull thud, then rolled his head back on his shoulders in a pleasurable stretch before filling in the hole.
A high-pitched sound caused him to whirl around. The sound was carried to him from the direction of the spaceship.
A scream.
He threw the spade to the ground and broke into a run, his throbbing ankle forgotten. Bursting out of the forest, he stopped short when the ship came into view. Out of the craft ran a woman - the human woman. His frown grew. He thought she had gone back with the others.
Slowly he smiled. It was not friendly.
Jenny fell to the ground, her chest rising and falling rapidly. Her stomach threatened to over-spill her last meal, and after a few seconds she lost the battle and vomited onto the fire damaged soil.
The alien watched, hidden by shadow. The human’s hair was the same color as the rays that splayed from the suns. Her eyes, he remembered, were the color of the leaves that grew on the trees around him. She was small compared to his own species, but a female nevertheless.
He frowned as he tried to remember the lessons of planet Earth and its inhabitants from his schooling long ago. It was obvious the humans had evolved much, much faster than they had thought.
The Itor race was fierce. Competition was great, and murder frequent. The humans, with their strange mixture of violence, stupidity and compassion were, even early on in their development, a simple, peace-loving race in comparison.
He rubbed his hairless jaw, roughened with angry scars. He wasn’t alone anymore! The sudden thought made his heart thump. He’d have to go easy with her - be kind. The notion was as alien to him as he must be to her.
His hand moved to his thigh. He pulled out the small grey oblong gadget, secured by a length of twine around his leg, and flipped a switch.
He spoke a single word.
The computer flashed a word on its small screen.
The alien spoke. Testing the unfamiliar word on his lips.
“Wooo - man.”
FIVE
Jenny scrambled to her feet. What the hell was she to do now? The alien wasn’t on Taurus. Bodie and Matt had deserted her with a savage creature on an unknown planet.
She walked forward with an overwhelming feeling of panic. She climbed the hill, slipping and sliding in the mud, and headed towards the sound of the waterfall. Maybe she could find a cave or something to live in. The thought wasn’t appealing, but at least there was the hope that Taurus would come back for her.
The sound of the water took her towards the dark forest. The smell of decay filled her senses, but it was a natural odor of vegetation fermenting beneath the thaw. Her thick boots made prints in the soft ground, and mud and slimy forest debris clung to her feet, ankles, and splattered her legs. The wood was dim and cold as the rays of the suns failed to penetrate the thick leaves and abrasive branches.
Jenny found a river winding through the dense wood, and began to follow it upstream. She stood at the edge and looked in, wondering if it would make good drinking water. It was narrow, but the inky blackness revealed its depth. The current was strong, catching and carrying off anything in its way. She looked up, and met the gaze of a large creature across the black water.
It sat on its haunches and regarded her from small merciless yellow eyes. It was difficult to tell its shape because it wore a coat of matted long hair. Its overhanging forehead was joined to a prominent, thin nose. The rest of the face was flat, the jaws wide and square.
It grinned, its teeth white, long and hideous. Then it stood upright on two incredibly large feet, and made peculiar gestures with its hands. The fingers were long and splayed, which fleetingly reminded her of the alien.
It lowered its ungainly arms and stood staring at her from an unblinking yellow gaze, before it began to make odd short, barking sounds.
Jenny stared, transfixed; horrified.
Then it raised its head and howled. The primeval sound sang through Jenny’s ears. The voice was wolf, but the creature’s stance was human. Her throat dried, and her blood turned to ice. She had heard this noise last night - this same evil, skin-crawling, shrill sound, which had terrified her. She had wondered what sort of creature could make such an unwholesome, vicious scream, and had hoped she would never have to meet the animal.
But it stood before her, with only a narrow, rushing river separating them.
It dropped lightly onto four legs and walked first one way and then the other, its huge bulk looked a little like a grizzly bear. Jenny held her breath, stepping backwards.
Soon it became apparent the creature wasn’t about to cross the water by the way it growled and clawed at the ground with its strange feet. Ahead the bush thinned, and an expanse of rocky land yawned. Hoping to find shelter and lose the creature, she hurried onwards.
The animal followed, but as long
as the river flowed between them, Jenny didn’t feel in any particular danger. In the distance, the blackness of the river turned silver grey. Her first thought was sunlight, but nearing she had to acknowledge, with a sinking feeling, the river had become alarmingly shallow.
She stopped, uncertain.
The wolf - that’s what she would call it - stopped.
They looked at each other. The wolf s gaze steady; intelligent, its evil grin unchanging.
Breathing heavily Jenny turned the other way, trying hard to keep her pace as unthreatening as possible. But the creature galloped forwards, towards the shallower part of the river.
Jenny broke into a run. She cursed herself for continuing her journey while being followed, and headed towards the forest.
Behind she could hear the animal splash through the river; then silence as it reached the other side. Jenny ran, knowing if it caught her, her death would be horrible.
She dodged clumps of bladed grass, passed trees and ran through thorny bushes, tearing her spacesuit. She slowed, ducked behind a thick bush, and held a wheezing breath. The sound that greeted her was a babble of animal talk high above her head in the trees, and the angry squeaks from the disturbed creatures taking shelter inside the bush where she herself was hiding.
But there was no sound or sight of the wolf.
She let out her breath, and collapsed to the ground, her bones a mass of nerveless jelly.
The sharp sound of a twig snapping underfoot sent Jenny’s head rearing up; her breath was caught and held once again. She could hear slow labored steps, and heavy panting. Her mouth was dry with fear as she peered out from behind the prickly bush. The wolf was a mere meter away, its nose sniffing the ground in great noisy snorts. The creature had lost sight of her, but Jenny guessed the creature’s nose would lead it straight to her hiding place.
She lurched to her feet, and ran. The sudden noise caused the wolf to take its nose away from the ground and look up. It sniffed the air and then galloped after her, its large flat feet slap-slapping as it ran.
