by A. G. Riddle
Kate had been right: the contents of the arcology had shifted over the last thirteen thousand years and not in their favor. The door was underground now, the earth having slid to one side. How far under, they didn’t know. It could be ten feet or a hundred. David wondered how long their meal rations would last, and what they would do if they didn’t see the arc’s artificial daylight soon.
At his and Kate’s bedroom, he collapsed on the chair by the small metal table and dug into the MRE Kate had left out for him.
He was famished. He stopped eating only to breathe.
Kate entered and threw another MRE on the table.
“I’m not eating your ration,” he said.
“Me either.”
“You need your strength.”
“You need it more,” she said.
“I wouldn’t if you could get that quantum cube Janus gave to Milo to work.”
“We’ve been over this. Gaps in my knowledge. Big ones.”
David held the fork up defensively. “Just saying.” He finished the first MRE and eyed the second. “I feel like Patrick Pierce tunneling under the Sea of Gibraltar.”
“That’s a bit dramatic. I don’t see why you don’t use the explosives.”
“Don’t have enough. We used half to get in. Barely broke through. We’ll need the other half—assuming we ever make it across.”
Kate opened the second MRE. “Eat it, or it will go to waste.”
She left before David could say a word. He exhaled and continued eating. He would pull a double shift next go round, whether Sonja stopped him or not.
The door slid open, and Milo rushed in. “Mr. David!” The teenager smiled. “We’re through.”
“Water break!” David called, halting the line of six that snaked through the dense rainforest. All of them took out their canteens, some drinking more liberally than others. They were all exhausted from the three-hour march, which had been mostly uphill.
David handed the machete to Paul, who took the lead position, ready to continue cutting their path through the thick green, red, and purple plants and vines that webbed between the trees which stretched to the dense canopy, blocking out much of the artificial sun. Or two suns in this case.
David studied the shadows on the forest floor, trying to get an idea of how much daylight they had left. Night will be dangerous, Kate had said.
“What do we call the flying invisible reptiles?” David asked her.
“Exadons.”
“If we make camp here, will they attack us? In the thick forest?”
“I don’t know. Possibly.”
David sensed that Kate was holding back. “Tell me.”
“They are predisposed to attack any new species in their habitat. It’s an evolutionary response, a learning method for them. It’s one of the reasons the scientists were interested in them.”
“Wonderful.”
David took his pack off and slung his sniper rifle around his shoulder.
“Where are you going?”
“To climb a tree.”
The view from the top of the forest’s canopy was breathtaking. The arc was an arena unlike any David had ever witnessed. He sat there for a few minutes, simply taking it all in. The ceiling of the dome simulated a sky with clouds and radiated heat. In the center of the floor, the rainforest stopped, and a green plain spread out, maybe a mile wide and slightly longer, followed by a smaller forest, this one more rocky and on declining terrain that ended in the exit. David was relieved to see that it wasn’t blocked. The bottom layer of soil had completely shifted in their direction. In fact, they would need to build a ladder or stairway of some sort to even reach the door. And they’d have to blow it up, but there was another bright spot: they could use fewer explosives, which gave them a little extra to work with out here.
The green plain was surrounded on three sides by rainforest, but its right side ended in a wide stream with a slow-moving current. A herd of large, four-legged animals similar to hippopotamuses bathed and congregated where the water met the plain. Above the pool, a rock face covered the entire right side on the arc.
There, on one of the highest ledges of the rock face, David got his first look at the exadons. He counted eleven of them, spread out on the rock, unmoving, their eyes closed, their bodies glistening under the sun like silvery glass pterodactyls. Most exadons were entirely silver-glass except for two, who were covered in bright-colored tiles like a stained-glass window. He made a note to ask Kate about that. He estimated their wingspan at twelve feet, but from this distance, he couldn’t make out any other details.
The first sun was setting now, and the edge of the forest cut two distinct shadows: one pointing to the open plain and the last stretch of forest before the exit, the other back into the forest, in the direction they came. And those were their options.
If nightfall arrived as they crossed the plain, the exadons could pick them off easily.
“What did you see?” Sonja asked him.
She had continued hacking at the path during David’s surveillance, and he was glad for that. She was every bit the leader he was, maybe more so: she had led her Berber tribe, composed of fighters and elders from the remnants of many disparate factions, to victory against the Immari in Ceuta. She was the definition of a self-starter.
David related their situation, and the six of them stood there in the dense, shaded forest, waiting for a decision. To David, the group looked like a motley crew of superheroes.
Milo, Mary, and Kate carried large packs that held the food and what Kate had only described as the scientist’s expedition gear. It remained a mystery box to David, a surprise for the end of the day—if they lived that long.
The real question was Paul and Mary. They had been exhausted when they arrived, and David and Sonja had given Paul the shortest digging and machete shifts.
Paul seemed to sense the eyes on him and Mary. “We can keep up. I agree that we should make for the other forest at best speed.”
“Sonja and I will take the packs when we cross the plain.” Milo smiled, excited to keep his pack. The young man seemed to be a well of energy. David continued. “We’ll hug the far tree line in hopes the exadons won’t see us.”
About an hour later, they cut the last of the plants and vines that held them in the rainforest and exited onto the plain. The packs came off Mary and Kate’s backs, and the six of them began their march across the green plain to the trees in the distance. Everyone’s focus was on the rock face to the right, and the predators that would soon take flight, hunting, invisible in the night. David had never dreaded nightfall so much.
Kate pulled up even with him. “I can take the pack.”
“Not happening.” At the back of his mind, he wondered how her condition was affecting her, if she was in any pain, if the exertion would limit her prognosis. Four to seven local days. He had tried not to think about that.
He nodded toward the exadons. “Why are two brightly colored?”
“It’s the point in the pride’s cycle. When food is plentiful, the colors come out. When living and hunting is easy, the members focus on mating, distinguishing themselves. But some conserve their power—opting not to waste it on colors. When the cycle ends, the members who were more flamboyant die out first, and those who stored up energy can out-hunt them and pick them off. There’s been a recent population decline.”
“So those are the survivors. The best hunters.”
“Yeah. And they’re probably hungry.”
“Fantastic.”
As the march wore on, the “water breaks” became more frequent, and they drank less and less water, most panting and massaging leg muscles, some stretching while they set their packs down for relief.
David and Sonja resumed the lead each time, setting the best pace the group could manage. They reached the tree line of the forest just as the second sun was setting.
David led them a little further into the forest, to an area where the trees were close and the underbrush w
as thick.
“We’ll camp here.”
Kate opened the first pack and laid out a black rectangular box. The familiar blue light rose from it, and Kate worked her fingers inside it.
Seconds later, the box began unfolding tile by tile, making a square floor about twelve feet by twelve feet, then a small opening that jutted out. Tiles continued unfolding, upward this time, forming walls with no windows until the walls formed a smooth circular dome at the top. The front of the… tent, David assumed, had a shimmering black portal. He stuck his head in. Amazing. He entered, and Kate followed. A queen-sized bed rose out of the floor in the upper left corner, and there was even a small desk and stool along the right-hand wall.
“Not bad,” he said.
Kate laid out a tent for Milo and Sonja. David had never seen Milo move so fast.
Kate stuck her hand in to configure Paul and Mary’s pop-up dwelling but hesitated. “I can configure it with two double beds or one larger.”
Paul squirmed.
Mary glanced away but quickly said, “I think two beds… probably gives us…”
Kate nodded, and the tent began to take form.
David lay on the bed, which was some kind of adaptive foam similar to their bed in the lander. It felt like heaven, and he had to force himself to sit up. He couldn’t let himself fall asleep. Time was running out.
Kate sat on the bed and smiled at him.
“These Atlanteans weren’t exactly roughing it,” David said.
“Take you back to your youth?”
“Somewhat.”
“Were you a Boy Scout?”
“Tried to be. Dropped out.”
“I thought you never gave up on anything you loved,” she teased, using his words against him.
“Well I didn’t love Boy Scouts. We didn’t have Atlantean camping gear. I bailed out after Webelos.”
“What’s Webelos?” She took out a tin of cream and sat next to him on the bed.
“It’s… not important—what is that?”
“Take your pants off.”
“Hey lady, I don’t know how camping works where you’re from—”
“Very funny. This is a topical anti-inflammatory for your legs—”
“Wow, you are a sweet talker, but I’m gonna have to stop you right there.” He sat up, grabbed his gun, and tried to sound casual. “I’ll be back shortly.”
“Where are you going?”
“I need to take care of something. I’ll be back,” he left before she could stop him, and walked quickly out of the camp. As he reached the edge of the forest, he heard someone following him, quietly.
He turned to find Sonja, her gun slung over her shoulder.
“You should head back.”
“You should stop giving me orders. Let’s get this over with. We both know what must be done. It’s them or us.”
19
Dorian marched down the dark metallic corridors of the Atlantean ship, his rifle pointed forward, his boot laces tied together, cutting into the back of his neck as they hung across his chest.
His four men also padded along in bare feet, careful not to make a sound that might echo in the empty corridors, which were almost pitch black.
Dorian couldn’t decide if that was to his advantage or not.
David could be waiting around any corner. The fight that loomed thrilled and terrified Dorian. This was the end, his final battle with David. If he failed and Kate and David reached the beacon, his world would fall.
Dorian had tried to determine Kate and David’s location, but the ship’s computer was mostly offline. Dorian wasn’t sure if it had been damaged or if it was a power-saving measure. If it was power-related, he didn’t want to risk exposing himself by activating the ship’s systems. But after he disposed of David and Kate, he certainly would. That opened another possibility, one Dorian had considered on the flight here: answers. The Atlantean ship recognized him as Ares. Perhaps it held clues about Ares’ plan, or the enemy he feared so much. If Dorian could learn the full truth, maybe he could shift the balance of power and take control of the situation on Earth. It could be humanity’s only hope.
Up ahead, the two soldiers at the point position halted.
They were at the entrance to Arc 1701-D, and it wasn’t what Dorian expected. Mounds of black dirt covered the corridor, and where a door should have been, twisted metal snaked into the arc. It had been blown open.
Is David fighting someone down here?
Dorian motioned for his men to put their boots on and form up on him.
He crept to the arc entrance and peered in. Damp, warm air floated out, and he didn’t understand what he saw: large green and purple plants. It was some sort of biosphere. Was it an aeroponics lab? A greenhouse? He had assumed the vast chamber was storage or perhaps another repository of resurrection tubes.
He selected a man to lead the way up the narrow dirt tunnel, which was likely a trap. He could lose one man; it would still be Dorian and three others to David. Good enough odds.
But there was no trap waiting on them, only a dense rainforest at sunset. David and Kate had cut a path through it. That would make it easy to catch them.
David glanced at the rock face directly ahead. He could only see the flamboyantly colored exadons now. Either the others were already in flight, or they had engaged their cloaks, preparing to hunt when the last rays of sunlight faded.
They were the perfect predators. There was no moon, and with no shadows in the dark night, they could strike when and where they chose. David hoped they were lazier than that.
“We should be quick,” Sonja said.
“I agree.” David adjusted his sights, marking his target.
“You think this will work?”
“We’ll know soon.”
Sonja spread out on the grass beside him and began firing the instant David did. Seconds later, the slow-flowing river ran red.
From the treetop, Dorian heard the shots ring out, but it took him several seconds to find their source: David and an African woman—almost perfectly camouflaged—at the opposite tree line, across the plain, lying flat. What were they shooting at?
Then Dorian saw it—massive beasts, not quite as big as elephants but with no snouts—rising out of the mud that bordered the plain and the river. They wailed as blood spilled out of them.
Are they out of food? Hunting? Dorian wondered. Their folly would make them the hunted now. Dorian slid down the tree.
“They’re in the tree line across the plain. Hurry, we can take them by surprise,” Dorian said. His men fell in behind him as they stormed up the path.
Mary sank into the bed and closed her eyes. She couldn’t remember ever being this tired. Well, maybe after unpacking, when she and Paul had moved to Atlanta. Her things, combined with his, and carrying it all up and down the stairs had been thoroughly exhausting.
Why had she thought of that? Just the exhaustion? That was a time of excitement and the unknown too.
The code. They would know soon.
She reached her hand over, across the narrow space that separated the beds and put her hand inside Paul’s.
He sat up slightly. “Everything okay?”
“I’m glad you came for me, got me out of Puerto Rico.”
“Me too. It’s probably underwater by now.”
Outside the tent, they heard shots fired.
Milo was too excited to sleep or even eat. He sat cross-legged in the tent Dr. Kate had made from the case. It was yet another miracle, and he wanted to enjoy every second of the journey. He was sure he had a role to play.
Every second that passed, Kate became more convinced: she would spend her final hours with David. Here and now, at the end of her life, it all became clear, what was truly important, what mattered. Relationships. Love. How she lived her life. Who she really was. She couldn’t wait for him to return.
She was asleep when the first shots were fired.
David began belly crawling back from the tree line, jus
t enough to hide their position, but still in sight of the large animals thrashing in the mud, crying out in agony from the bullet wounds. Sonja joined him.
“Them or us,” David said quietly.
“It usually is,” she replied.
David waited, hoping the exadons would descend and devour the easy prey.
When David had seen the large animals at the river sink into the mud at sunset, he had formed his theory: the exadons hunted at night, principally via infrared, seeking heat and motion. The mud and earth served to cloak the great beasts from the exadons, balancing the ecosystem, except for when one wandered out at night, or in this case, screamed and rose out of their hiding place in pain.
David watched for any flicker of light, any moment—
The closest of the wailing beasts exploded in streaks of red, as if three massive steak knives had been drawn across its side. It rolled and threw mud in every direction—perhaps another innate defense mechanism. Patches of mud large and small flew through the air; some proceeded to fall, but many stopped and hung in the air.
Wings formed from nothingness, then long tails, and heads with a sharp spike at the end. David saw the mud-coated exadons in all their glory, ripping two of the large beasts apart. The other half of the macabre scene concerned him even more: three of the flying monsters were dragging another wounded animal away. They broke its legs and held it down, pressing their sharp talons into it. David saw it now: they were trying to lure out the remaining mud-bound animals who were forced to watch the others die.
David hoped they could resist, remain safe, stuck in the mud.
The exadons were smarter than he imagined—and more brutal.
David crawled backward on his belly, Sonja by his side.
When they couldn’t see the bloody scene at the river anymore, they stood and began jogging back to the camp.
