Horizon Alpha: Transport Seventeen

by D. W. Vogel

  “It’s going to be okay, dad,” Shiro said. “We’ve got medicine at Carthage. We just have to get you there.”

  Mr. Yamoto shook his head. “There’s no medicine for this. I’m slowing the group down and there’s no point in it. In ideal conditions I’d have maybe a month or so before it was time for the pill. Out here like this? Shiro, I know you don’t want to see it. But I won’t have the blood of anyone here on my head.”

  Here we go. The conversation I’ve been dreading since I saw Mr. Yamoto on the transport.

  We weren’t supposed to live forever. Horizon Alpha was an ark, sent from doomed Earth to carry the seed of humanity to a distant world. The only thing that mattered was getting here safely with enough breeding-age people to rebuild a population. It was a nuclear spaceship, and despite Earth’s scientists’ best efforts, the radiation permeated everything. Our life expectancy was no more than forty or fifty years, assuming we were born healthy and didn’t get leukemia as little kids. Almost everyone died of some kind of cancer sooner or later. We didn’t treat it. It sounds harsh, but we knew our mission. There was no point putting finite and valuable resources into someone that was dying. When things got bleak, the doctors would issue the pill. Family and friends would gather around the sick person who would swallow the pill and drift off to sleep for the very last time. It was peaceful, and for two hundred years of hurtling across the galaxy, it was right.

  Death on Tau Ceti e was usually far from peaceful.

  I interjected into Shiro and his dad’s conversation. “We don’t have a pill with us, Mr. Yamoto. We didn’t know anyone was really sick. But I’m sure we have them back at Carthage. If you make it back, we’ll do it when it’s time.”

  His lips stretched into a smile. “It’s time now.”

  “No, it’s not. Stop talking like that.” Shiro clearly wanted to stomp away, but kept an arm supporting his dad.

  I turned to Shiro. “Look, your dad isn’t the only one having trouble. Mrs. Jenning took a bunch of those bloodsuckers last night. She’s slow, too. And we’re not leaving anyone behind.” Not again, I thought. No matter what Don Rand or anybody else says.

  He looked at Mrs. Jenning plodding on ahead of us supported by two of her friends. “See, dad? You’re not the only one.”

  Mr. Yamoto smiled again. “I see. The difference is, she’s going to get better. I’m only going to get dead.”

  Chapter 25

  Ryenne’s Diary: Year 3, day 74

  I keep hearing things I’m not supposed to be hearing. Honestly I’m not snooping. It’s just that I’m a really light sleeper and when people start whispering, it wakes me up. It would be rude for me to say anything when they’re having a conversation, so I just lay there with my eyes closed until they’re done.

  Last night it was Shiro and his dad.

  I mentioned earlier that Shiro seems really different now. I remember one time on Horizon when I was just a little kid, I was hanging out with Rogan and something set him off. He was rocking and biting himself, and a couple of older kids were trying to get him to stop, and then Rogan was biting them because you can’t just make him stop when he’s in panic mode. One of the kids got bit really bad and he shoved Rogan onto the floor, which just made him scream more. I jumped in and started screaming at the kid, and the kid was screaming back and looking like he was going to shove me on the floor, too, and then all of a sudden Shiro was there. He got right up in the kid’s face and just stared him down. The kid was yelling and pointing and bleeding all over, and Shiro just looked at Rogan, and back at the kid. He said, “Really?” and looked back at Rogan.

  Right then the kid looked really embarrassed, and went slinking away, and Shiro knelt down next to Rogan and together we got him calmed down. Shiro took us to the infirmary where Rogan got patched up, and I remember thinking there was never going to be anything in the world that Shiro couldn’t handle.

  Something happened between then and now.

  I mean, a lot of things have happened. Dinosaurs have happened. A lot of people have died, and everything’s a mess, really. But I mean something happened inside Shiro. That core of calm he used to have is just gone now. He’s always looking around, jumping at noises. And last night he said some really awful things to his dad.

  They were whispering when I woke up, and I wasn’t really trying to listen. But Mr. Yamoto was telling Shiro about the last day on Horizon and how he got separated from Shiro and from Shiro’s mom on the ship, and how he ran around trying to find her but he couldn’t, and finally Officer Halsey made him get on the transport with us.

  Shiro sounded like he wanted to cry. His voice kept hitching, and he was asking tons of questions that his dad couldn’t answer. Like, “Where was she when you left?” and “Where was the last place you saw her?” His dad was saying, “I don’t know, son, I couldn’t find her,” and Shiro finally started sobbing.

  He kept saying, “You left her. You left her there to die.”

  I wanted to sit up and tell them that it wasn’t like that . . . it was such a mess in those last minutes on the ship, and nobody knew where anybody was. Shiro couldn’t blame his dad for not getting his mom on the transport. Everybody ended up in the wrong place because nobody had time to get to where they were supposed to be. But by then Shiro’s dad was crying too, and saying, “I’m sorry. I left her.”

  Shiro jumped up and ran away, and I listened to his dad crying for a really long time.

  I know how he feels. Our mom’s not at this Carthage place we’re heading for. Nobody’s heard from her since that horrible day on the ship, and that’s something I’ll never be able to get over. The not knowing. But it’s wrong for Shiro to blame his dad. You can’t blame anybody for stuff like that. It just happens. And somehow we have to find a way to go on through it. My mom would want me and Rogan to be okay.

  If she were here, that’s what she’d say.

  Chapter 26

  No one died for a whole week of travel. It was slow going and difficult sleeping. There were no trees to climb for safety and shelter from the nighttime rains. We huddled together under tarps from the packs, protecting the children as best we could.

  Kintan and I hunted the little ‘saurs that hopped around these rocks, and the hunting was relatively easy. These ‘saurs had never seen or smelled a human. By the time they realized what we were, it was too late. We cooked the meat and organs, supplementing it with bugs and snakes we found under rocks. Everyone was constantly hungry and thirsty, and the Seventeen survivors burned in the sun like we had when we first landed, before the pale-skinned among us browned in Ceti’s unrelenting glare.

  Our hills were getting lower. I checked my sat trans, poring over the map. The mountains ran the entire north coast of the continent, reaching foothill fingers into the jungle. A straight walk back to Carthage might only take us another two or three weeks. But that would take us through the jungle, and the risk was too high. Staying in the foothills meant trekking kilometers out of our way, following the curve of the mountain’s base, but the idea of trying to lead this party with its old people and little kids through the jungle by night made the extra time worth it.

  Rogan started muttering after I turned my sat trans off.

  “Halsus. Halsus.”

  Ryenne was beside him in an instant. “It’s Halsey, Rogan. Officer Halsey. And she’s gone. You don’t have to be afraid of her any more.”

  He shook his head. “I can hear. You can hear.”

  “No, buddy, it’s okay,” I said. “She’s not out there. You can’t hear her. It will be okay.”

  Ryenne and I exchanged a look, but Rogan had lapsed back into his customary silence.

  We trudged on through the scrubby grass, rocks in our boots and grit in our eyes. At least I had boots. The Seventeen survivors were still wearing whatever they’d had on when Horizon was evacuated. Nobody was barefoot, but the soft shoes that had been fine for Horizon’s smooth halls were falling apart in the rugged terrain.

  Th
e sun was getting low against the mountains, clouds piling up for another evening’s rain. Our shadows grew long ahead of us. I was about to call a halt when I caught a flash of movement out of the corner of my eye.

  I whipped my head around but saw nothing. Probably just a hopper.

  The hair on my arms prickled as the sour tang of ‘saur scent reached my nostrils.

  “Shiro,” I whispered. “Do you see anything?”

  He was supporting his dad, arm around the old man’s waist. “No. Do you?”

  I stopped walking and turned around, peering down the path we’d just walked. The setting sun dazzled my eyes and I squinted, searching the rocky hillside.

  Another movement caught my eye, a rustle in one of the twisted bushy trees that fought their way through this dry soil. I couldn’t see anything moving in the bush, or hiding in the dark shadow it threw.

  I turned back to the last of our party, Shiro and his dad. They had moved off behind me a little ways, following the group.

  The bush’s shadow. It was too dark. Where the gnarly limbs sprouted from its trunk, the shadow should have been dappled on the ground.

  Click.

  Oh, scat.

  There was nowhere to run. No trees to climb.

  The hairs on the back of my neck rose as I strained my ears to hear the answering clicks. Only one ‘saur on Ceti communicated with a language of clicks from deep in their long, snaky throats.

  Wolves.

  “Code W!” I hissed, and Shiro whipped a pistol off his belt as I did the same.

  He appeared right next to me, shoulder to shoulder. “How many?”

  “Don’t know. Heard one click.” I pointed to the shadow behind the bush. “I think one’s there.”

  We listened again, but no other clicks answered. Had I imagined it?

  “How many of what?” Shiro’s dad was right behind us.

  “Dad, get down. Be ready to run.” Shiro had to know that was futile. Even the healthiest, fastest human couldn’t outrun a Wolf.

  We trained our pistols on the shadow and the Wolf crept out.

  It looked bad. One of its four legs had a large gash torn out of it. The scaled gray skin was mottled and lusterless. It held its triangular head close to the ground, jaws open. Even from this distance I could see that one of its eyes was missing.

  It clicked again.

  No answer.

  “Lone?” I whispered.

  Shiro nodded beside me. “Maybe we have a chance.”

  Old or sick Wolves sometimes lost their place in the pack. They wandered alone, hunting as best they could until they died. Without the pack’s coordinated hunting effort they couldn’t bring down the larger herbivores. But one Wolf alone would be desperate. It had nothing to lose, and that made it even more dangerous.

  I squatted down, resting on one knee, my elbow propped on the other. The underside of a Wolf’s throat was the only place a bullet could penetrate. Our only hope was to hit it from below. I’d gotten extraordinarily lucky the last time I met a wolf pack, but this one was wily, keeping its neck almost on the ground. Shiro crouched next to me.

  “As soon as it charges, go for the throat or the eye,” he whispered.

  Its haunches lowered, creeping forward, belly almost touching the ground. Any moment now it would spring.

  Movement to my right distracted me for a moment, and words whispered through the air. “I love you, son. Goodbye.”

  Before I could register what the words meant, Mr. Yamoto shuffled forward.

  “Dad, no! Get down!” Shiro shouted. We split apart, diving to each side of Mr. Yamoto, trying to line up the shot. Shiro’s dad seemed to gain strength with every step, striding toward the crouching Wolf.

  It leaped. We couldn’t even shoot at it with Shiro’s dad in the way.

  “No!” Shiro howled into the wind.

  The Wolf pounced, grabbing Mr. Yamoto by the shoulder. It shook him once, hard, and we heard the snap. Mr. Yamoto went limp in its jaws.

  Gunfire erupted next to me, Shiro unloading his pistol into the beast’s hide. I joined him, firing away, even as part of my brain whispered that it was too late. The late General Carthage’s words floated through my brain. Don’t waste ammo on a lost cause. Let the ‘saur have its meal and don’t risk the rest of your party. I fired and fired at the retreating Wolf’s back until it disappeared over the hillside.

  Chapter 27

  I dragged Shiro away from the site of the attack. The rest of the group had frozen at the sound of gunfire and we caught up to them quickly. The uncharitable thought that Shiro and I moved a lot faster without his sick father between us went unspoken.

  Henri and Kintan circled back to us, but the shake of my head warned them not to ask any questions. Most of the Seventeen group didn’t seem to realize what had happened.

  “We need to move.” I reloaded my pistol and holstered it, glancing over my shoulder. “We’re too low in the foothills and there are predators.” I didn’t have to say any more.

  The Wolf was likely to follow us. Most of the predatory ‘saurs didn’t eat every day, so we might have a day or two respite before it came after us again. But Wolves had an uncanny sense of smell. No matter how high we got into the foothills, it would be able to track us if it wanted to. Is one lone Wolf going to pick off this entire party? It surely could.

  My sat trans had told me there were two places where we would have to cross through the jungle on the long journey back. Shiro was in no condition to talk, so I showed the map to Adam. Next to me and Shiro, he probably had the most experience outside the fence, and his strength was coming back fast since the bloodsucker attack. We sent Henri and Kintan on to lead us.

  “So look.” I pointed at the map. “We’re here. And we’re heading here.” I pointed to our valley, which looked a million kilometers away. “If we stay in the hills it will add weeks to the trip. But if we cut across here and here, we’re maybe three or four weeks out.”

  Adam frowned at the image. He wore his long light hair tied in a tail down his back and some of it had pulled free to plaster against his sweaty forehead. “They won’t make it an extra month. If for no other reason than they don’t have the right shoes.”

  I looked ahead at our ragged band. Some of them were barefoot now, their soft shoes shredded to nothing on the rocky terrain. They hadn’t walked anywhere but inside the transport and down the beach for water in the past three years. We hadn’t thought to bring boots from Carthage’s stores. They were shuffling through the rocks, limping on blisters and cuts. Leaving a blood trail. And there was nowhere we could hide in the mountains. So far we hadn’t felt the need to hide, but the Wolf proved otherwise. Despite the dangers of the jungle—and there were so many—we might be safer if we could at least sleep in the trees.

  The line had straggled out again and I trotted ahead to get to the leaders. I paused to give an encouraging word to everyone I passed. Mrs. Jenning still looked rough. Did she realize she was now our weakest member?

  When I caught up to Henri and Kintan we paused to discuss the change in plan. Everyone clustered around us except Shiro, who hung off to the side.

  “All right, we’re going to start heading down now,” I said, trying to look confident. “We need to find a safe place to sleep, and there’s nothing to shelter us up here. There are huge trees down there and we can climb up higher than any ‘saur can reach. We’ll sleep through the days and travel at night when most of the predators are dormant.”

  The Seventeen crowd exchanged worried glances. Since we found our shuttle destroyed we had purposely not shared any stories of our harrowing years in the jungle. But the night we spent in their transport had been all about catching up. They knew enough to realize the dangers we were walking into.

  The midday sun was high overhead. I squinted into it, planning our transition to nocturnal. If there was just that one Wolf, we’d be all right here for a while. “We’ll rest here for a few hours. When it gets to evening we’ll head down and walk
as far in the night as we can. Then we’ll find some nice safe trees and head up for a good sleep.” They looked dubious, but nodded.

  We settled down into a protective ring around the children. Nobody got more than a fitful nap in the blaring sun. The pale people were red as berries and hid beneath hot tarps to get into the shade. If we kept traveling by day, we wouldn’t need Wolves to take us down. They’d die all by themselves.

  When the sun touched the distant mountains behind us I roused the group.

  “Let’s move out. We want to get to the forest by full dark.”

  I tried to get Shiro to walk next to me but he just shook his head, plodding on the outside of the group. My father had died on Horizon three years ago. There was nothing anyone could say to comfort me then, and nothing I could say to Shiro now.

  The beauty of the night forest enchanted the Seventeen crew. Green phosporescent slime coated the leaves, and the glow as we entered the forest lit our way. I led the group single file behind me.

  Sara had taught me a few things about plants and I recognized the thick spiked leaves of the Hushtree as we passed one. “Here, stop. Break off these leaves.” I showed the people behind me which ones. “Rub the juice inside on your skin. It helps with sunburn. Stick some in your packs for later.” We picked the tree clean as high as we could reach, packs and pockets bulging with the oozing leaves. I could hear sighs of relief down the line as the cool juice took effect.

  We didn’t get as far as I hoped before the line straggled so far behind me I had to turn back. It was hours ‘till sunrise, but time to stop. I picked a grove of the best trees with thick branches low to the ground, and we climbed. Ryenne and Rogan stayed close to me and we settled into uncomfortable craws high above the reach of a Rex.

  And here I am again, bark in my back and leaves in my hair. The heavy tool belt dug into my hips and bloodsucker bugs buzzed around my face. I rubbed one of the Hushtree leaves on my skin, which seemed to help. Familiar night calls rasped through the jungle, deep cries I hadn’t heard for months. In the strangest way, I felt at home.