by Lori Beery
Colony
Copyright 2019 by Lori Beery
Kindle Edition, v1
In the far reaches of space, at a time when Earth is but a vague memory, the survivors of a crashed colony ship must find a way to live on a harsh planet they are ill-equipped to handle. Hidden on this world are other intelligences whose goals and ambitions put them at odds with the two-hundred rag-tag humans. Kyrah Oaks, a young woman with extraordinary talents, must help her people figure out a way to work with their new and hostile surroundings if any of them are to survive…
Chapter 1
I focused my attention down the game trail. Any moment, the herbivores I had been waiting for would be coming along the path toward me. My weapon, a finely crafted bow, which was a replicated product of our ruined ship’s organic synthesizer, was already in my hand. The instant I saw the beasts, I would prepare myself to shoot.
All was still. Suddenly, the air filled with the sound of thundering hooves getting louder by the instant. The animals burst from the densely packed trees onto the trail I was watching.
They were huge creatures. Four, long, muscular legs churned up the ground as each creature propelled its massive body toward my position. Sharp, branched horns crowned the leader’s broad head. On it came, followed closely by the rest of the herd.
I brought my bow up, an arrow already nocked on the string and drew to anchor in one fluid motion. I would wait the few milliseconds it would take for the leader to move a few strides closer before I let the arrow fly.
Those moments dilated. My sight focused on the leader. I saw the morning sunshine lighten his sweat-drenched brown fur and glisten off the moisture. His great sides heaved. I fancied I could hear his great heart beating. I was aware that my heart was in sync with his. My breathing fast.
His great hooves caught the light as he closed the space between him and me. Now! I released. My arrow flew true. Time returned to its proper speed.
But the leader did not drop. At the last second, he had jogged to the left. His move saved him. Instead, my arrow had buried itself in the large female running directly behind him. She crashed to the ground, rolling forward before skidding to a stop. The beasts behind her leaped over her fallen body in their continued flight after the leader.
I raised my bow a second time, a new arrow nocked. I released. This time, it hit where I intended, and the animal I had targeted dropped. Then, in rapid succession, I brought down two more of the great beasts. Four of these massive creatures would feed our settlement for some time.
The herd kept to their trail. In moments, they vanished within the forest south of the bowl in which the four carcasses lay. I waited until the sounds of their passing faded away.
I shouldered my bow and made my way from my tree perch to the rise overlooking the trail. I carefully surveyed the area. Now we faced a dangerous time. The fresh kills would draw other predators to us. I turned from hunter to guard. My people would need my protection while they processed the beasts.
I saw no other predators, nor did I notice any sign that there were any nearby. I hoped that the present condition would last until we were safely back at the settlement, our defendable village within a predator-free mountain.
Upon the rise, there was a tree with a branch jutting out over the trail. It was the only mature tree in the vicinity. Deciding that perching upon the limb would give me a better vantage point, I made my way over to the tree. Before I began climbing up to my new perch, I cast spinners in a wide arc around the tree’s base. The spinners would make a noise when they were disturbed by anything. I began my climb.
Just as I made to step out onto the limb, I spied a brightly colored tree-jumper clinging to the bark. I quickly redirected my foot to miss brushing the creature with my ankle. I knew from experience that the gelatinous substance that coated their flesh caused painful blisters on exposed human skin. I had no wish to repeat that unpleasant lesson.
Eventually, I settled myself into a relatively comfortable position on the branch and began my vigil. I held my bow across my lap and kept my quiver shouldered, the arrows easily accessible.
Below me, the bowl spread out north toward the forest and westward toward the swamp which eventually deepened into a lake. One of my people said the bowl resembled an impact crater in which something had struck and slid eastward. The idea accounted for the depression and the difference in vegetation from the surrounding land, but it is a notion we have not yet had time to study.
The main flora of the bowl is grass, a type that flourishes in wet conditions. Interspersed among the grass are trees that grow not in groves, but singly. They are rough-barked without branches and, at the top, large, feathery, greenish-blue leaves crown them. Throughout the year, these trees produce hand-sized, brown spheres which must be a nut. We have seen the empty orbs scattered on the ground under the trees. Something eats them. So far, we have not attempted to harvest them. The bowl is not a safe place.
The trees do not grow in the northwestern end of the depression. Even the grass finds the ground there too wet or too rocky to grow. Beyond the lake on the north side, cliffs tower. To the west on the south side of the lake, the rise in which my tree is planted climbs into mountains.
In the basin, the grasslands stretch clear up to the shores of the lake. It seems like this should be an herbivore’s paradise. But the grass-eating animals don't appear to feed here. They keep to their trail that follows the eastern wall of the bowl, turns west for a short distance, and then, heads south up and away from this pasture into the forest. They know the bowl is dangerous. We follow their lead.
What lurks here, we do not know. We suspect there are large snakes, other reptiles, and cats, but we have not seen them. So, I watch and hope I can stop whatever predators may come before they attack my people.
The work has begun. My people have separated into four groups. Each group processes one of the animals. In this way, we hope to complete the task as soon as possible. When they finish, very little will be wasted. We, our organic synthesizers, have a use for almost every part of the animal. That is if we get the chance to complete the task and get on our way back to the settlement.
While surveying the bowl, movement caught my attention. Something was in the grass south of the swamp, moving eastward. Either it was very large, or there were more than one moving close together. The tall grasses marked the intruder’s path. The grass parted like water away from the bow of a boat.
I tapped my comm device. “This is Ky,” I whispered. “I see movement coming from the southwest toward you. Whatever it is, it’s six klicks and closing.”
“Copy that,” responded X-tee, the guard captain. “Fire on it with spinners when it closes to two klicks.”
“Understood,” I told him.
I silently removed five arrows. Then, I pulled out five spinners. These were different than the ones I had scattered around the tree. These encircled a ring and snapped onto an arrow. I attached one to each arrow. The idea was, once the arrow stuck in the target, the spinner would whistle whenever the target moved.
I readied myself to release. Tracking the target, I loosed my first arrow when the movement was just short of two klicks from my people. While the arrow whistled along its path, I nocked the next one. I waited, ready to draw to anchor. My heart lodged in my throat.
The forward motion I had been tracking halted abruptly. It seemed the hunters were perplexed by the shriek of the spinner as it flew toward them. Then, just as my arrow hit home, there was a short shift to the right. Next, the animal went frantic. It whipped its body in small circles. It seemed to be trying to dislodge the arrow or to escape the spinner’s scream – maybe both.
For the first time, I saw that the animal was a big striped cat. It had not been alone. While the one I hit ran in tight circle
s, the other two cats turned and fled back the way they had come. The grasses parted in two separate trails, marking the individual escape routes of the fleeing felines.
The wounded cat was slowing down. Its steps staggered first one way then the other. Before too long, it crashed onto its side and ceased moving.
I released the breath I hadn’t realized I had been holding. My heart returned to my chest, and relief flooded me. I laid both the bow and the arrows across my lap and tapped the comm badge near my left collar bone.
“Threat neutralized,” I reported.
“Thanks, Ky,” replied X-tee. “What was it?”
“Cats, Sir,” I told him. “Three of them.”
“You took them all down?” he asked.
“No, Sir,” I answered. “Just the animal in the lead. The other two ran away.”
“Understood,” he said. “Keep alert.”
“Yes, Sir,” I responded.
I returned to my vigil. I let my eyes scan the bowl, frequently changing my focus. In this manner, I hoped to catch any motion.
After a while, my gaze snapped toward the swamp. Something was on its way southeast, but it didn’t seem interested in my people or our kills. Instead, it headed towards the dead cat. It progressed slowly and steadily.
I got a good look at it when it reached the cat. It was some sort of lizard about three meters long. It had a long snout which the creature used to nudge the cat. It had three pairs of short, thick legs, a long tail, and a body that looked well-armored.
It clamped its jaws on the cat’s hindquarters and started dragging it back the way it had come, toward the swamp. The jerky motion made the spinner emit a scream intermittent with brief periods of silence. This on-and-off wailing repeated over and over as the reptile retreated with its prize.
Before I could tap my comm, X-tee contacted me. “Ky, what’s happening?” he asked, concerned.
“A big lizard is dragging the cat I killed back to the swamp,” I told him.
“Oh,” he said, relief coloring his voice. “See anything else?”
“Not in the basin,” I replied, frowning as multiple cries pulled my attention west and southward from the rise. The small, humanoid tree-dwellers were fleeing across the treetops. They were moving fast, scattering in a southeasterly direction. It wouldn’t be long before they would be directly south of my position. “The little tree-dwellers are on the move,” I added.
“OK,” he murmured. “We need you to foc.”
“Sir,” I interrupted him midword. “Something spooked them.”
“What?” he asked. “Did you scatter spinners?”
“I did,” I assured him as I crept my hand to my comm badge. “Going silent,” I said and tapped the device.
As the tree-dweller cries faded away, silence fell around and over me. It seemed nothing moved. That was too much quiet. The other forest dwellers made no sound either. A big predator was on the prowl, and nothing wished to attract its notice. The question was: what was it?
I closed my eyes and sat as still as I could. Concentrating on my breathing, I drew in and pushed out slow, even breaths to calm myself. Then, I focused on my hearing. I gradually became aware of carefully placed footsteps approaching beside the rise. I opened my eyes, still listening to the footfalls.
Slowly, as quietly as I could, I turned myself around to face the tree trunk. My left hand clutched my bow and four arrows. I scanned the rise. To the west coming east, I saw branches sway as though something was brushing pass them. The location matched where I heard the footsteps. I did not, however, see the predator.
Just then, a spinner whistled. My heart leaped into my throat. The predator I could not see was under my tree! I shifted my gaze toward the tree’s base but saw nothing. Fear mounting, I changed my focus. There was a twitch about three meters to the south. That was too far from my tree to have activated one of my spinners. I squinted and looked closer to the trunk.
Again, I saw nothing. Then, the ground blurred and several of my spinners screamed. Abruptly, the sound smothered into silence. A slight movement drew my attention to a spot half a meter down and to the left of the tree’s trunk. There was a fuzziness of the ground that lasted only a few seconds.
Silently, fighting to control my terror, I continued to watch. Slowly, I became aware that I heard breathing, accompanied by a sniffing sound. Again, the ground blurred and seemed to sink lower. Small jerky motions from two locations vied for my attention. One was near while the other was out pass where I had scattered the spinners.
I flicked my eyes toward the nearer movement. The edges of two triangular shapes blurred, shifted, and sharpened. Sometimes the shapes went through the changes simultaneously. Other times they moved independently. But, always, they twitched in rhythm to the noise my people were making. It seemed that a large, invisible creature had just crouched and was preparing to launch itself at them. I had to stop it! This resolve helped me push aside my fear. I would stop this predator!
Slowly I gathered my legs beneath me and used them to push myself to my feet. I crossed the two meters to the trunk as quietly as I could. Putting my back against the tree trunk, I paused to listen. The breathing sounds of the creature hadn’t changed. Encouraged, I prepared to shoot it.
The Teacher said it was possible to launch multiple arrows at once. I had never tried such a feat. That is, not until this moment. I nocked all four arrows to the string of my bow. Carefully following the Teacher’s instructions, I drew to anchor at my ear. But my shot was not clear; I would have to move and start again.
After cautiously climbing around the tree, I found a perch above and behind the twitching triangular shapes. Assuming those were ears, then firing an arrow left of center about a meter behind them should hit something vital. With four arrows, I hoped to increase my chances. At this close range, I doubted the arrows would separate very much.
I breathed deeply to steady myself and nocked the arrows again. Then I drew, anchored, and took aim. I loosed. The arrows screamed from the bow down toward the target. They impacted mere moments after launch. In that instant, the ground blurred and heaved. An ear-piercing roar burst forth to join the scream of the spinners.
I clamped my hands to my ears, having been mindful enough to slip my left arm between the bow and the bowstring. The sound continued to rumble through me, gradually dying out. The screamers too went quiet. This new silence ended with a loud, short scream of the spinners followed by a ground-shaking thump. My left foot slipped off the limb that I was using to brace my torso against a higher branch. I scrambled to turn and grasp the bough that had been behind me as gravity exerted itself upon me. I could not hold on. I was falling.
Chapter 2
I landed in a battered heap against the tree trunk. I hurt all over. There were plenty of bruises and scrapes all over my body, but nothing seemed broken. That is if you didn’t count my bow. The weapon lay in pieces. So, that meant I had arrows but no way to launch them. I could use them like spears, but the shafts were too short.
Remembering the invisible predator, I held myself still. I listened but heard neither spinner scream nor creature breathes. The jungle animals had resumed their noises. It seemed the predator was gone.
Are you kidding? Did I kill it?
Using the tree, I pulled myself to my feet. I scanned my vicinity. All I could see was the expected ground cover with an odd hillock near the edge of the rise. The lumpy knoll was a new addition. It had not been there when I had climbed the rise earlier today. The fletching of my arrows drew my eyes to the top of it. Here lay the predator?
Mystified, I edged cautiously closer to the mound. Laying near the drop off of the rise, I discovered the creatures face. Its eyes were open and, surprisingly, no insects had begun to gather. The ears, which I assume had been those triangular shapes I’d noticed, no longer twitched. The massive body was still.
I tapped my comm badge. “X-tee, this is Ky,” I told him.
“Are you alright?” he asked.
“Copy that,” he said.
As I tapped the comm badge off, I turned toward the bowl. X-tee and Dr. Locus were making their way over to me. They were moving at a brisk pace. I relaxed, knowing they would soon be joining me.
While I waited, I inspected the dead predator. I reached out to touch it. My fingers didn’t encounter ground cover or fur. Instead, I felt bumpy, hairless skin. The color changing mechanism seemed embedded in it. I was astonished that the effects were so complete. The creature’s motion was the only thing that caused any distortion and, then, only briefly. Without a doubt, this creature was an apex predator.
Hearing panting breathing and rustling vegetation, I turned to the rise in time to see X-tee assist Dr. Locus onto the summit. The doctor bent over, seeking to ease his ragged breathing. X-tee hovered nearby, concerned for the older man. As the doctor straightened, they both turned toward me.
“What did you – Ky, are you alright?” asked X-tee interrupting himself worriedly.
“I’m battered, and I hurt,” I told him. “But I wanted both of you to see this.”
“A hill?” asked Dr. Locus.
“A hill with eyes and four arrows stuck in it,” I said as I gestured to each item.
Both men gapped at the creature. Dr. Locus brought out his imager and began recording video as he felt his way around the animal. He muttered notes as he went.
“This is amazing!” he exclaimed in awe. “This is a vertebrate with color based camouflage. The only animals I have ever heard about with this degree of ability are invertebrates. This discovery is amazing.”
As the Doctor continued his examination, X-tee turned to me. “What happened?”
“This is the creature that spooked the tree-dwellers,” I told him. “It came along the ridgeline to this tree. Then it crouched next to the tree trunk and studied our people. – It got here unseen! I looked straight at it, and all I saw was ground cover with a little fuzziness at the edges when it moved.
