by Susan Laine
Marcus glared at his own palm, growling angrily. “Fuck, Sam. You were right. I am fucking stupid. I should never have—”
“It’s too late for that,” Sam interjected. “And self-recriminations won’t help us in this situation. So stop wallowing and think.” He cocked his head as he examined Marcus sitting in the chair. “Could you, maybe, I don’t know, slide under it?”
Marcus scoped out his position with great care. Finally he shrugged. “I don’t know. Maybe.” Though he appeared skeptical, he did start to wiggle downward, attempting to slide under the screen without getting caught.
Suddenly he stopped and pointed at the holoscreen. “What’s IDX?”
Sam was utterly bewildered. He moved to stand next to the chair and peered at the odd futuristic console. On top of the screen were… squiggles. “Where does it say IDX?”
Marcus pointed toward the weird scribbles. “Right there.”
Sam stared with his mouth open, unable to understand what was going on. “No. That’s gibberish. Just random, meaningless squiggles.”
Marcus looked up in bewilderment. “What? No, look.” He gestured at the weird curls that were apparently writing. “See? I-D-X. It’s right there.”
Sam swallowed, his throat clogged with rising surreal fear. “Marcus? I swear to God, I’m not messing with you. It doesn’t say that. It’s just… illegible scrawls. If it’s a language, it’s not any language I’ve ever seen.”
Marcus huffed out a frustrated breath, running a hand through his hair. “Okay. And I’m telling you I can read that. Whatever it is.” Then he directed an amused wink at Sam. “So… at first you were sure this was a secret underground government facility testing mutants or zombies, or mutant zombies. But now you’re thinking… aliens?”
Sam flushed with embarrassment. That had totally been what he’d been thinking. Alien monsters. “Shut up, and get out of that chair.”
Before Marcus could comply, the holographic screen flashed. Then an image appeared on it. Though without colors, the scene looked serene and lovely, portraying a lush meadow in the middle of snow-topped mountains. Flowers bloomed on the field where grass swayed gently in the wind, white billowy clouds floating high in the blue skies above.
“What did you do? What is that?” Sam asked, half-confused, half-alarmed.
Marcus shrugged. “I didn’t do anything. Looks nice, though.” He let out a little chuckle of surprise. “Above it reads Meadows of Seranis.”
Sam had no idea what Marcus meant. Above the image he saw nothing but more of the squiggles that meant nothing to him. Clearly the pinprick from the chair’s armrest had made Marcus compatible with the chamber’s technology. That absolutely worried Sam to no end.
A second flash of light emerged, and a new image replaced the first. This one depicted a windy desert with tall dunes of ice-blue sands, clouds of the sand flying about on the breeze. Above them, a golden sky shone brilliant and bright.
“What does it say now?” Sam asked, observing the fluid change in the written text.
“Dunes of Domar,” Marcus supplied, glancing at Sam with curiosity and concern. “Do those place names mean anything to you? Geography isn’t exactly my strong suit.”
Sam shook his head fiercely, his worst fears seemingly confirmed. “No. Those words are not from this planet.”
Marcus regarded him doubtfully. “I find that hard to believe. Come on, Sam. You only speak three languages, same as me: English, French, and teen. You couldn’t possibly know every place on earth, let alone be able to recognize someplace as being alien or whatever. Get real.”
Sam was ready to continue arguing his point, even though after what Marcus had said he was no longer 100 percent certain of the accuracy of his declaration. But he didn’t get the chance.
A blue flash later, another novel image arose on the holographic screen. A lone tropical island rose from a cyan-hued ocean, beautiful sunlight illuminating a green mountaintop, gray rocks, and golden beaches. Palm trees and tall ferns swayed in the wind, and colorful creatures flew about, too fast to make out any details.
“Now it says Isle of Suryan,” Marcus said, pointing at the image.
Unexpectedly his hand jolted forward, as though it had a mind of its own, and slapped against the holoscreen image.
A blue oval light lit up above one of the alcoves on the wall.
“Holy shit.” Marcus sounded and looked stunned, eyes wide. “I swear I didn’t mean to do that. My hand just—”
The holographic screen glowed briefly and then died down and vanished from sight.
Marcus jumped up from the chair as though it were on fire. “Jesus fucking Christ, I’m so glad to be out of that thing.” Then he faced the dark recess in the wall, squinting as he tried to make out whatever might be there. “What just happened?” He gestured vaguely toward the oval opening. “Did I do that?”
Sam suppressed the urge to roll his eyes and mutter “Duh.”
“Is that the way out?” Marcus asked, sounding hopeful.
Sam hesitated. “I… I don’t think so.”
But Marcus moved forward, his gaze glued to the niche as though mesmerized by the sight. Sam hurried over to him, caught his arm in a lame attempt to stop him, and pulled back. But Marcus was bigger and stronger.
“Look,” Marcus said, his voice odd—hollow and void. “I see… swirls of stars. Can you see them? So beautiful….”
Sam saw nothing but blackness. He yanked on Marcus’s arm again but was dragged after him into the recess. “Marcus, I don’t know what weirdness has got ahold of you, but please fight it.”
“Come on, Sam,” Marcus cajoled. “I just wanna see….”
Marcus reached into the darkness of the niche. Blackness swallowed them. Sam couldn’t see or hear anything. Dizziness swamped his consciousness, causing him to stumble. Marcus took him in his arms, steadying him.
“Sam, you okay?” Marcus sounded troubled and more like himself again.
A dim beam of light appeared. The chamber looked… different.
The metallic walls were grayish-green from moss and brown from rust, not to mention dirty all over. Long vines and colorful flowers grew within jagged cracks in the walls. The floor was covered in mud, dirt, dead palm leaves, and piles of sand and gravel. An uncovered chair, similar to the one in the other chamber, stood in the center but was twisted to the side, one armrest broken and dangling from a tangle of wires, the whole base bent and releasing an occasional spark shower. Obviously it was damaged beyond repair, but how long had it been that way? Sam had no clue. If this was the same room as before, surely this couldn’t have happened in the span of a second or two they’d felt dizzy and confused?
Where the jammed double doors into the chamber had been now rose a stone staircase. The light came from that same direction.
“God, it’s hot in here.” Marcus speaking out of the blue startled Sam. He smiled softly and added, “I must be half-brained, leading us into trouble again. Sorry.”
Sam didn’t respond. He’d already observed the significant rise in temperature, the air now practically sweltering and forcing him to open his winter coat. He was listening to a loud cacophony of birds singing, but not any birdsong he’d ever heard.
In the dazzling heat, Sam had to shuck off his winter coat altogether. He tied the thing around his waist, observing out of the corner of his eye that Marcus was doing the same. Then he checked the straps of his backpack; they were fine.
This time it was Sam who began to walk as if in a daze toward the steps, Marcus on his heels.
Immediately he stopped and stared at his feet, flummoxed. “Why do I suddenly feel twenty pounds lighter?”
Marcus came to stand next to him. With a frown, he jumped up and down a few times. His head practically hit the ceiling each time. “Whoa. Trippy.”
Sam swallowed. He refused to voice out loud the disturbing thought rattling inside his head. Whatever this place was, gravity was lower here than back home. That was what made the
m light on their feet, as if they’d lost over a quarter of their weight in an instant. Where are we?
They resumed going up the stairs, each step lighter than the last. As a result, the steep ascent was the easiest climb of their lives.
Chips and flakes had broken off the steps, and twisting tree roots spread down along them and pushed through the compact earth-and-stone slabs of the stairs and walls. Flowers and grass had risen from every hole to show how nature won out in the end. As Sam walked up, soil crunched beneath the soles of his boots. The beam of light grew wider and brighter, until he had to shield his eyes from the shine.
He stopped dead on a stone landing as he emerged from the tunnel into the sunlight outside. Sam blinked because his eyes had to be playing tricks on him.
The terrace stood on a steep hillside, covered by a dense tropical jungle. Far below an ocean spread as far as the eye could see. Turquoise waters glittered in the light of the rising sun, and the waves slowly turned to orange and yellow on the distant horizon. Gigantic palm-like trees, ferns, bromeliads, and ginkgos, all of them with blue-and-green leaves, rose from the verdant, tangled thickets of lush vegetation, swinging gently in the warm breeze carrying salty air their way. Small, colorful creatures flew and flitted about, singing and shrieking, and bushes below rustled from the movements of animals they could not see.
Sam had never been outside the Rockies. He’d seen jungles only in books, in movies, and on the internet. The sight would have felt like an incredibly vivid dream or hallucination—if it weren’t for the assault on all his senses.
The unending mix of noises coming from creatures all around them. The hot, wet air seeping under his clothes and onto his skin until he wanted to rip all his clothes off. The nauseatingly sweet scents of wild tropical flowers mingling with the salty fresh air blowing in from the ocean and the pungent earthy odors of the jungle. Sam was no longer sure if he wanted to inhale deeply or hold his breath.
“My God, Marcus, where are we?” Sam gasped, on the verge of a panic attack.
When he got no reply, Sam turned to Marcus, only to find him staring high up in the opposite direction, eyes wide with shock. Baffled, Sam followed his gaze—and realized they were in deep trouble.
The flat, large peak of the jungle mountain appeared close, a mere short, steep flight of stairs away. But above the island and the ocean, far beyond the dark night sky, spread a heavenly vision Sam’s mind couldn’t comprehend.
A massive green gas giant blocked out at least a quarter of the sky, its dust-and-rubble rings expanding the width by another third. A colorful expanse of nebulas and a multitude of bright, blinking stars gave way to four moons orbiting the planet. Beyond them, in the distance, shone an unfamiliar, blue-hued galactic belt in all its glory.
Sam felt dizzy. Then he passed out.
Chapter 3
“SAM? SAM, please wake up. Come on now. Speak to me, bae.”
As he slowly came to, Sam initially only heard Marcus, whose cracked voice sounded shrill, pleading, and urgent, although his words barely registered. When he finally managed to pry his eyes open and blink to dispel the haze, the first thing he saw was a small furry face of brown and gold.
“Huh?” Sam blinked some more, and the peculiar face became clearer.
The little critter cocked its head side to side like a primate. It had brown fur and orange-colored cheeks, big floppy ears, and a long tail swishing behind it—and gem-hued wings spreading on its back.
“Holy shit,” Sam murmured in astonishment. Perhaps the fluttering and dots of colors in the jungle hadn’t been from birds but these animals. “Is that a…?”
“A flying monkey? Yeah. Sort of. The jungle seems to be teeming with them.” Marcus sounded more levelheaded again, as though he’d regained his cool composure at the sight of Sam’s recovery. “I nicknamed them… ozzies.”
At that Sam just had to laugh out loud or he’d suffer a hysterical nervous breakdown. References to the Wizard of Oz movie seemed like such a gay thing. Then again, even straight guys knew about flying monkeys and green-faced witches. Although in actuality the animal resembled a lemur more than a monkey.
The ozzie started, jumped farther back from the stone steps to a tree branch, and flew away, feathery wings flapping—and sparking with some kind of electric discharge. The jungle, which had been relatively quiet, now echoed with chirping. It sounded like a lively cocktail party, with high-pitched squeaks and hollers that could only be alarms, followed by a concert of roars, shrieks, clicks, yaps, squawks, and even long, elegant melodies like birdsongs.
Whether these animals considered Sam and Marcus to be threats wasn’t easy to tell with the indistinct noise. At least they weren’t attacked by troops of ozzies.
And knowing what he knew, Sam was glad the creatures didn’t appear as huge as he expected them to. Lower gravity meant taller flora and bigger fauna.
“Congratulations,” Sam said to Marcus as he rose to his feet with Marcus’s aid, chuckling. “Wow, Marcus. You just named your first alien animal species. I think you can officially call yourself an exobiologist now.”
Marcus huffed out an indignant breath. “Very funny. I was fucking worried about you. Stop joking.” He still held on to Sam’s arm and the small of his back, seeming unwilling to let him go anytime soon. “Was it the heat or the shock?”
Sam noticed that Marcus had removed Sam’s backpack and winter coat and laid them on the closest step. He did feel better without the heavy, hot garment tied around his waist and the weight of the backpack on his shoulders, so he nodded. “Both, I think. Or maybe too much oxygen…? I can’t remember what it’s called. Hyper… oxygenation…? No, that’s not it. Regardless, disorientation is one of the symptoms of exposure to increased oxygen levels, which I think there are here. Not awfully high but… definitely there. Anyway… I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to scare you.”
Marcus nodded grimly. “It doesn’t matter. Let’s just get the hell out of here, okay?” He escorted Sam toward the stairs leading down to the underground chamber, pausing only long enough for Sam to grab his coat and put his backpack on.
They descended back into the dark, dirty, ruined chamber where the air was cooler but the smells of earth and vegetation grew in strength. Sam staggered on shaky legs, but thankfully Marcus never released his hold on him, which made Sam feel safe and excited at the same time.
With determination Marcus led them to the black recess of what they now knew to be a portal of some kind. Marcus stretched his hand forth to feel his way around as he stepped into the niche.
“Ouch!” he gasped, backing out fast and running into Sam in the process. They both stumbled backward, nearly falling and colliding with the floor.
“What the hell?” Sam muttered, rubbing his nose where it had made painful contact with Marcus’s shoulder blade. “What’s wrong?”
“I… I couldn’t pass through. There’s nothing in there but a stone wall.”
“What?” Frustrated, Sam pushed Marcus aside, stepped into the opening—and slapped his palm against a cool, roughhewn stone wall. Whatever doorway, portal, or passageway had been there for them to use was long gone. “Why isn’t it…?”
His voice faded as he felt along the crude surface, moving up, down, and sideways. No opening appeared. He made quick work of the rest of the niches along the circular chamber’s walls. A few had their back walls collapsed into rubble, but the rest were the same as the first—nothing but impenetrable stone walls.
“Fuck!” Marcus cursed behind Sam, and Sam heard him stomp or kick the stone floor or wall.
Sam retreated to the center of the chamber and studied the framework of the recess, which was made of the same metal as the other, cleaner chamber from before. Nothing seemed out of place. Except… no blue light glimmered in the oval lamp above the opening. A blue beam had appeared in the light fixture above the alcove back in the other chamber on Earth when Marcus had pressed his hand on the holographic screen. Now there was nothing.
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nbsp; “There’s no light,” he said, pointing at the unlit horizontal oval shape above the portal. “I… I think… we don’t have power. Whatever makes this place, this chamber, these openings work—electricity, alien energy, or damn magic—this place doesn’t have it.”
Marcus drew in a sharp breath. “But… that means… we’re stuck here.”
Sam let out a sigh so deep and profoundly desperate that he actually slumped with the force of the emotion. “That about sums it up.” Quickly he straightened up and recollected himself, saying with resolution, “Unless we find a way to fire this thing up.”
Marcus inched closer, his voice filled with a trace of hope. “You really think we can?”
“It’s either that or we buy ourselves beach property on this deserted coastline.” He gave Marcus a scathing glance over his shoulder, lifting his chin resolutely. “I don’t know about you but I’m not ready to admit defeat or the prospect that we’ll never see home again.”
Marcus offered him a shaky smile. “Neither am I. We’ll whip this rust bucket back into shape and find a way back home. I promise.”
Even though Sam was reluctant to believe Marcus’s assurances, he nodded in response. “We should take stock of our new surroundings since we’re going to be here awhile. At the very least we’ll need to find shelter, water, and food. The five protein bars and one bottle of water in my backpack won’t last indefinitely. And… we need to figure out our place in the food chain. Because I seriously doubt those ozzies are the only animals around here.”
They slouched up the stairs to the landing where they had stopped before, temporarily resigned to their stranded fate. The odd and confounding view hadn’t changed. A bright sun had risen over the horizon, casting its yellow glow over their new stomping grounds.
Marcus shook his head in bewilderment and said, “My God, we’re on an alien planet, Sam. I still can’t wrap my brain around it.”
