by Jean Kilczer
I probed for the complexity of a mind in that barren world of ice crystals and sand.
And touched it too late.
His death blow bored into my mind like a missile seeking its target. The female will be prize enough!
I yelled and slammed my hot coil against it, deflecting his blow to dissipate in frigid air.
The strength drained out of me and I slid to my knees. My ribs ached with a soreness that felt distant, as though somewhere there was pain, but not within my body.
Sophia was by my side, covering my head with the hood, brushing snow off my face. “Jules, what happened?”
“He's coming! If you get the chance, kill him, do it! He's a Cultist. He wants–”
“Where is he?” She stood, her stingler aimed west into wind-driven snow.
“He's–”
Black wings conceived from energy invaded my mind, smothered my thoughts. He had discovered my weakened state and was forcing his strength over mine.
“Where are you,” she shouted into the wind. “Come closer, you scud, instead of hiding in the snow.”
I saw a movement behind her. “Behind you!” I drew my weapon.
A blue-banded Slattie leaped through the sheet of blowing snow, forepaws spread, and slammed the stingler from my hand.
Sophia turned.
He twisted and leaped at her, knocking her to the ground. A part of my brain thought how strange to be attacked by a Vegan who resembled Huff so closely.
I reached for my stingler, but the muscles over my broken ribs spasmed and my world was reduced to a fire knife of pain digging into my right side. It left me gasping in shallow breaths. I curled up in the snow, wanting only to crawl out of my body.
Sophia jumped to her feet as the Slattie made a grab for her weapon, lying between them. But she didn't reach for it. Instead, she spun around, extended her booted foot in a karate move that smashed into the Slattie's jaw.
He howled and went down to his haunches. She spun again and kicked him in the temple. He swayed and collapsed into the snow.
I watched her spin again and slam her boot into his nose. Bone snapped as it was driven into his brain. Blood gushed from his nose and mouth. His body quivered and lay still.
Sophia stood there panting. She scooped up her stingler, made sure the ring was turned to hot, aimed, and fired a blue laser stream at his head. Singed fur curled. Flames shot from his snout. I smelled burning hair and flesh.
“That's enough, Sophia,” I squeezed out. “You're draining the battery. He's dead.”
She looked at me as though awakening from a bad dream and holstered the stingler. “Jules. Are you all right?”
“Remind me…”
She dropped to her knees beside me. “I know. To never make me mad at you. Is the pain bad?”
“On a scale of one to ten, what's the number,” I gasped, “for crawling out of your body?”
She unslung her gear bag and put it under my head. “I'm sorry, Babe.”
“I wish I could've helped. Oh God!” I panted.
“I think the muscles spasmed,” she said.
“I think my body's trying to kill me.”
“Listen to me, Jules,” she said softly, “you have to relax every muscle you own.” She took my hand. “I'll help you break the spasms.”
“Soph, if your mothering doesn't work, and I can't go on, I want you to–”
“I won't leave you and this is no time for an argument. Now close your eyes and concentrate on relaxing those muscles.”
“OK, boss,” I muttered as another spasm hit. “Oh God…”
The minutes grew tails that stretched them like hours, but with Sophia's soothing words and touches, I was finally able to break the spasms. I began to shiver as cold from the snow I lay on seeped through the jacket.
Sophia sleeved my stingler into its holster, pushed hers into the slot on her dive suit, and stuffed the Slattie's weapon under a strap on her bag, then slipped it on. “I'll help you up.” She kissed my cheek. “Don't tighten your muscles. Let me lift you.”
I clung to her with my left arm as she lifted me. But I still gasped as pain laced my ribs.
I was unsteady on my feet. She draped my left arm across her shoulders and gripped my wrist.
“Soph, if I can't make it to a shelter by nightfall, I want you to–”
“That's not an option! Remember? We agreed on ninety years old.”
Wind howled like the voice of this barren land, shrouded in cold. Streaks of snowflakes bit my face. Even with boots, my feet were getting cold. A land as unforgiving as the sea.
“Ninety.” I gritted my teeth and walked. I already felt like ninety.
* * *
It was late afternoon when we stopped again to rest. The wind had died as the reddening sun lowered toward the western rim.
I stuffed snow into our one canteen and tucked it between my jacket and two sweaters to melt.
Sophia used a dive fin to scoop out a hollow in crusty sand on the north side of a dune.
“You'd better fire the walls, Soph,” I said from where I sat, “you'll want to glaze them so they don't collapse.”
She scooped up a handful of sand. “It's wet. I'll beam the floor, too.”
I scanned the shoreline with my graphs. “There are rocks near the water. We can set them at the entrance and keep them beamed for warmth.”
She raised up to her knees and glanced toward the shore. “Can you empty out the gear bag, hon? I'll fill it with rocks and drag it back.”
I unzipped the bag and pulled out our stuff, careful not to tighten my muscles very much.
She stopped digging and watched me. “I can do it.”
I smiled at her. “You do the easy stuff. I'll do the hard work.”
She grinned and went back to digging.
“Be careful when you go for the rocks, Soph. You'll be in the open. The Cultists might still be out there, searching for us.”
She stopped. “What about the fired rocks? They'll glow in the dark.”
“If you build a small barrier of sand in front of them, they won't be seen.”
“How come you're so smart?”
“Oh, I figured some day I might have to supervise building a sand shelter on an alien beach, so I studied for it. Even got an A.” I scanned the western land. Rocks and dunes had grown long shadows in the setting sun, but the beach was empty. So was the sea.
Joe, I sent, where are you? Huff? Wherever our team was, they were too far for a probe. I lowered my head so Sophia wouldn't see my expression. She could read me like an open book and I felt as desolate as this wasteland.
* * *
As night fell, we huddled inside the small hollow. The rocks provided more warmth than I'd expected. Stars blazed in the blackness and waves ground sea ice into smaller chunks. The flinty odor of burning rocks filled my nostrils.
A trickle of sand filtered down from a crack in the wall. I sealed it with a short burst from my stingler. “Home repairs. Soph, how's your suit battery holding up?”
“Good. It's three-quarters charged.” She gestured toward my suit battery, under the gear bag strap. “Yours is fully charged. If we see our boats, we should be able to swim out to them.”
Swim out, I thought. She was overestimating my ability with these broken ribs.
Sophia unscrewed the cup from a thermos, then the cap. I breathed in the spicy aroma of earthbrew as she poured liquid into the cup. “I've been saving this,” she said.
“For a special occasion?”
She handed me the cup. “I made it while you were asleep.”
“Thanks, hon.” I drank the hot brew and relished the taste, and the warmth as it slid down my throat. I handed her the cup.
“No, you drink it, Babe.”
“Not an option,” I said.
“Oh, OK.” She drank and closed her eyes and sighed. She handed me back the cup and I drank while she swept the rocks with a burst from her stingler.
“I wish the sous had ing
redients for food,” she said. “You need to keep up your strength.”
“We both do.”
We finished the brew and she helped me to lie back with my head on my folded dive suit. Then she cuddled against my left side and used my outstretched arm for a pillow.
“If my ribs were healed,” I kissed her forehead, “boy, would you be in trouble, woman.”
“Yeah, yeah,” she yawned, “promises. All I get are promises.”
She was asleep within minutes, but the pain kept me awake for a while longer. I beamed the rocks one more time and closed my eyes. As I relaxed my muscles, the pain eased to a dull ache. I tel-scanned one more time, in case Cultists were in the area.
Nothing.
I sighed and drifted off to sleep, wondering what tomorrow would bring. We had come to help Huff, and now we needed help.
Chapter Seven
“I am Huff,” I heard in my sleep. Pleasant dream. Huff had come to save us. He held a platter of mock steak, mashed potatoes, and a salad. He knew my favorite fare. I smiled in my dream and mumbled “Thank you.”
“You are welcome for what?” he asked.
“The dream,” I muttered.
“I brought no dream. Only my self that is here.”
I heard Sophia yell “Huff! Is it really you?”
“I thought it was me,” the great white Slattie at the entrance of our hollow said, “but I am beginning to wonder if I am Huff, or a dopy gangler.”
Sophia jumped up and hugged him. “Oh, Huff. It is you. Jules!”
“No, that is Jules,” the Slattie said.
I lifted to my left elbow, my right arm pressed against my side. It was more the expression in his eyes, and the two mouse stinglers strapped to his hind legs as he towered over us, that convinced me in the early morning light that this was no impersonator, but my good friend, Huff.
“Huff.” I tried to sit up, but decided against it. "How did you find us, buddy?'
“I followed your scent.”
“You tracked us through blowing snow?”
He sat on his haunches. “Is that not what I just said, my Terran cub?”
I looked at Sophia. “I didn't know Vegans could do that.”
“Neither did I,” she said, her eyes wide.
“I knew it,” Huff said.
“Jules,” Sophia helped me to a sitting position, “that's probably how that Cultist found us.”
“And if he could find us that way…” I said.
“So could other Cultists.” She slid the folded dive suit into the gear bag, stuffed our other belongings into the bag, zipped it and slipped it over her shoulders.
I got to my hands and knees, but pain struck my side.
“Let me help you.” Sophia eased me to my feet.
My knees almost buckled. I hadn't realized how weak I was until I stood up. I pressed my arms against my chest as I tried to hold back a cough and couldn't. “Goddamn,” I muttered.
Being a biologist, I knew full well that the real danger of broken ribs was pneumonia, a result of taking shallow breaths and not clearing your lungs by coughing.
“Huff,” I said, “can you roll these rocks to scatter them? We don't want the Cultists to know we were here, just in case they haven't already picked up our scent.”
“Suppose,” Sophia said as we got out of the hollow, “you jump on the cave, Huff, and smash it down, and I'll roll the rocks away.”
“And I'll supervise the work,” I told Sophia.
“You are lying,” Huff said. “That is human humor. You lie and others laugh. Strange.” He jumped on the shallow cave. The glazed walls crashed down into shards of glass and piles of sand.
“Would you like a candy bar for breakfast?” Huff fished around in his pouch and pulled out a handful. “Or two.” He chuckled. “That is Terran humor. To lie and say I have one when I have many.”
“OK,” I said. “Thanks!”
Sophia trotted back and stared at the candy bars.
“Would you also like one, Sofa?” Huff said.
“Sophia,” she corrected. “Sure. Thanks.”
He handed her three. “That is a joke.” He chuckled.
Sophia looked at me.
I shrugged, gently. “Terran humor.”
“Whatever.” She ripped off a wrapper and chewed. “We should go,” she said around a mouthful of Reese's Peanut Butter chocolate bar.
I nodded and ate a Hershey's dark chocolate with nuts. I took a few steps and stopped. The pain had flared up again.
Huff sniffed my side. “Your ribs are not all in place over your liver?”
"Not yet, buddy.
He gulped his candy bar, threw down the wrapper, and went to all fours. “Ride on my back, my Terran cub. Your weight is no burden. You are my brother's keeper.”
Sophia picked up the wrapper and shoved it into her pocket. “Don't want to leave a calling card, brother.”
“Thanks, Huff.” I eased myself over his back with Sophia's help, and held onto his shoulder fur. “I was kind of hoping you'd offer, big guy.” I looked around at the endless stretch of beach and water. “You have any idea which way we should go?”
“I have one.”
“Well, don't hold back,” I said.
“There is a village of fishers further east along the water. They are a strange people, not of Kresthaven, but good in the liver. I think they will help us.”
“They're fishes?” Sophia asked as she walked alongside us.
I suppressed a chuckle. “I think he means fishermen, Soph.”
“They are in their home when in the sea,” Huff said, “and in their home when on the land, like Druids and Slatties all rolled into one creature.”
“Sounds like amphibians,” I told Sophia.
“Sounds like Cleoceans,” Huff said.
“Cleoceans?” I asked. I had encountered them on other planets. They were a gentle people, courteous to a fault, and non-violent. “I wonder what they're doing on Kresthaven?” I asked Sophia.
“Fishing,” Huff explained.
Sophia chuckled and glanced at me with raised brows. “They're fishing, Babe.”
“Now why didn't I think of that?” I smiled, but the thought of searching Cultists finding their comrade's body and picking up our scent, kept me glancing back.
* * *
“Where?” I asked Huff as he stopped and pointed.
“There, in the distant a head. Do you not see the village? Perhaps human eyes are shorter than I thought.”
“You mean those lumps in the snow that look like white warts?”
“I think they're igloos,” Sophia said.
“Give me the graphs, Soph, would you?”
She took them from the gear bag and handed them to me.
“Thanks.” I focused on a white lump that resolved into chunks of ice that formed an igloo. “You've got good eyes, woman.” I handed her back the graphs. “I was hoping for something more substantial, something with a roof.”
“And warmer,” she agreed.
“And cozy, with central heating, a sous chef with a full compliment of ingredients, and a soft bed. And earthbrew. Hot earthbrew!”
“They have dried fish,” Huff offered, “and salt-water softies with shells. I like the shells.”
“Sounds yummy,” I said.
Sophia smiled and patted my knee.
“Did you, uh, bring along some digestall?” I asked her and held my breath. Only with digestall could we eat plants and meat from other planets, and then after the biological strip test.
“I don't go anyplace without them, dear. You can breathe now. You're turning blue.”
I let out my breath. “That's the cold.”
“What is it you like to say, Babe?” she asked.
“That I'm hungry, cold, tired, and my fucking ribs won't stop hurting?”
“No, not that one. 'Any port in a storm'.”
“Mi igloo es su igloo?”
“Let's hope so.”
“Huff,” I s
aid, “are there any other villages, or towns, within walking distance that are a little more civilized?”
“Only if the walk is three days long,” Huff said.
I shook my head. “Any port in a storm.”
I peered into the village where Cleoceans were emerging from igloos and walking toward us. Their smell of rotting kelp struck me on an easterly wind. I knew that in a while I'd no longer notice it. Sophia sniffed and curled her lips.
“You'll get used to it,” I told her. “After all, we probably smell like a cageful of monkeys to them.”
The crowd grew as Cleoceans called out to others in igloos and in the shallows. Some leaped onto the beach over surf and ice chunks, shook themselves, and joined the growing procession that advanced like a parade of tall, slim, white-furred penguins. The strains of the Grand March of the opera Aida came to mind as I watched them approach.
Sophia waved. Most waved back. “I think the natives are friendly,” she commented.
“You've never met a Cleocean, Soph?”
She shook her head.
“I haven't been to a village, but as individuals, they're usually gentle, intelligent, cultured, and non-violent.”
“Sorry about the quip,” she said. “That's good to know, after the Cultists.”
“Anyone but a sorry quip is good to know,” Huff said, “after the cruelists.”
Sophia looked at me.
“The Cultists.” I stroked my friend's shoulder. “That's true, Huff.”
Some Cleoceans dropped to their bellies and slithered along in snow, raking forearms that were more like elongated flippers, and webbed feet with claws.
They chirped to us as they approached, like a flock of birds against the dark beat of crashing ice at the shore. Children danced across the snow, ice-skating without blades, and rolling glowing fluorescent balls of light with their minds.
Cleoceans are not tels, but they have a slight telekinesis ability which I once observed on planet Syl 'Terra.
“Oh my God!” Sophia whispered as they got closer and she saw their three pairs of glowing violet eyes that wrapped around their heads.
“Just think, Soph, nobody sneaks up on them.”
“But how do they…I mean–”
“Coordinate what they see?” I shrugged. “I'd ask, but it wouldn't be polite.”
