Kali's Children (Kali Trilogy Book 1)

by Craig Allen

  Entire forests of red, much of it undulating and moving, spread out for thousands of kilometers. It seemed everything resembling plant life could actually move. Mapping out a forest would be an exercise in futility, as the very trees and shrubs could rearrange themselves. As always, the red reeds permeated almost every part of the ground below, whether in valleys, on hillsides, or even mountaintops.

  In the distance flew other creatures. Some were many times larger than the fliers. They flew within half a kilometer of a giant red-and-yellow jellyfish dragging fifty-meter tentacles behind it. The fliers steered clear of it and everything else in the air.

  Hours later, magnetic activity picked up. A few fliers peeled off from the main group, disappearing into a cloudbank. The rest of the fliers dropped their altitude and passed through an open spot in the clouds. Below them was a plateau that must have been a good two hundred meters off the ground below. They circled it several times as they spiraled downward. Finally, the fliers released the humans onto the plateau, and then they themselves landed.

  The plateau was barren, with only a few rock formations. Not even the red reeds made an appearance—or maybe they had retreated when the fliers arrived.

  “Nice place.” Nodding, Bodin stepped to the edge of the plateau. “Defensible.”

  A few minutes later, the group that had peeled off returned, carrying bodies of several creatures Cody didn’t recognize. They were so bloated and rotted that Cody couldn’t tell what they might have once been.

  “Looks like lunch.” Sonja wrinkled her nose, though her suit kept the scents at bay. “I’m starting not to like this place.”

  “Think they killed ’em and brought ’em here?” Bodin asked.

  Cody shook his head. “They look too… ripe. And they don’t seem like the killing type.”

  “Everything on this planet is the killing type,” Sonja said. When she did, they looked up from their meal. She winced. “Sorry.”

  One sauntered over to her. Both Bodin and Deveau took out their rifles. The fliers had to know what those weapons did, but the approaching flier didn’t react. He stopped in front of Sonja and held out his central arm. In its claw was a viewer. Sonja took it, and the flier turned and joined the others at their meal.

  Sonja thumbed through the viewer. “There are a lot of files.” She raised an eyebrow. “But there’s one visual file.” She pressed a key on it and frowned. “It’s locked. I can’t download it. But I can still watch it on the viewer.”

  Deveau slung his rifle and walked over to Sonja. He took the viewer from her and tried it himself. “My code won’t allow a download. Probably meant for some higher echelon.” He looked closer. “Wait a second.”

  The viewer pinged as Deveau ran his finger across the keypad. “Holy shit, my code works.” He coughed. “I have access to the bridge-sat. Uploading everything. Sending a distress signal.” A few seconds later, the viewer pinged again. “Completed.” He looked at the fliers. “Where did you get this?”

  One corpse was already half gone, and the other was dissolving under the digestive juices the fliers regurgitated. They gestured at the device in unison then returned to their meal.

  Sonja stared into the setting sun. “You guys get some rest. We’re probably safe here, but I think we should keep a watch anyway. Major, you want first watch?”

  He just nodded, walking to a part of the plateau along the edge, taking the viewer with him. The others curled up where they could. The enviro-suits actually made sleeping comfortable, but Cody would not be able to get a full night’s sleep for a long time.

  ~~~

  Cody sat through his watch, the last of the night, holding the viewer in his hand. He was the only one who hadn’t seen the recording. It probably wasn’t proper protocol, but they were in such a remote location that it was unlikely anything could approach without his suit sensors picking up the movement.

  Drops of water rolled off the viewer from the rain that had stopped just a few minutes before. It wasn’t quite as hard as it had been when they had taken shelter under the satellite-dish trees. He didn’t know whether they were just lucky or if the rainfall was simply different in that part of the world. Regardless, it rained often enough to provide drinking water, which their suits seemed to filter just fine.

  He shook the droplets off the viewer, but he didn’t play the file. Sonja had encouraged him to watch it. She had been as hard as iridium since they’d landed, but Cody could swear she had been crying. Whatever was on the recording had rattled them all. He’d seen enough bad news to last a lifetime.

  The others stirred awake. The beetles rested around Deveau, who was getting worse. His nose ran constantly, and he had coughed all night long. Whenever he coughed up phlegm, the nanos inside his suit cleaned it up quickly, but they couldn’t seem to fix what was wrong with him. Everyone was a lot nicer to Deveau, and not just because he was sick. He’d proved himself at toad town. He was part of the team.

  Cody leaned against a rock formation in the shape of a hook. The wind must have shaped it over eons. He sipped at the water in his straw and took another bite of the nutrition bar that was supposed to be eggs, bacon, and toast. Instead, it was more like the old aphorism, language notwithstanding, “shit on a shingle.”

  “What’d you think?” Cody hadn’t heard Bodin approach, but his voice didn’t startle him.

  Cody held up the viewer. “I, uh…”

  “Didn’t watch it, did you?” Bodin shrugged. “Don’t blame you, but it’ll answer some questions.”

  Cody nodded. “Hey, I said some things yesterday I shouldn’t have.”

  “Forget it,” Bodin said. “After something like that, everybody gotta let it out somehow.” He gestured at the viewer. “You gonna watch it?”

  Cody set the viewer down and pointed at his chest. “Thought I might unlock this for a minute.”

  “That’s a good thought. But we ain’t safe yet. Watch that instead.”

  Bodin left Cody alone. He held the viewer gingerly. He started to put it down, but instead, he touched play. The two-dimensional image flared to life, showing the face of a man who hadn’t shaved in a month or more. His eyes bulged, and his skin shined a sort of yellow. He shook as he spoke.

  “I’m Petty Officer Matthew Carlson,” the man said. “I am the last survivor of the UEAF Kali.”

  A hook-like rock formation stood behind the petty officer. He had made the recording not far from where Cody was sitting.

  “I’ve altered this file so it cannot be deleted or modified. Please hand it over to UETI or some other puzzle palace.” Matthew sighed heavily, his breath ragged. “Christ, I don’t really care anymore what you do with it.” He went into a coughing fit, one not unlike Deveau’s.

  “If you’re watching this, I hope you won’t judge me too harshly.” He glanced past the optic, to whomever—or whatever—was standing on the other side. “If you’re here on this planet, then God help you, because no one else will.”

  Matthew moved closer to the optic, his face filling the entire screen. “If you haven’t figured it out already, you need to know this. Every living thing on this planet is self-aware. They think, they feel, and they make their own choices just like you or me.”

  He held his arm in front of the optic. A bloody bandage covered his wrist where a hand used to be.

  “And they’re not very friendly.”

  Interlude: Survivor’s Guilt

  Ten Years Ago

  From inside the coffin, where I breathed oxygenated liquid, I didn’t feel the crash. It was like being in the bottom of a swimming pool. The outside of the pod was blurry. Only the hollow sound of the water moving around hit my ear. It was so still. Even surrounded by breathing fluid, I had thought I would feel something. The pilot must have guided it in smoothly somehow. A part of me rejoiced at the idea that we might have survived intact. It meant we might be able to take off again.

  I waited for half an hour. Nothing happened. No one came for me. I was supposed to wait unt
il help arrived, but Marie… Anxiety overwhelmed me. The pods were safe, they really were. But sometimes, rarely, if a crash was bad enough, they could rupture. I was being foolish, but I had to know she was all right.

  I checked the outside air and verified the pressure and presence of oxygen before I cracked open the tube. The breathing fluid spilled everywhere. I climbed out of the tube, collapsing on the floor. I expelled the breathing fluid from my lungs onto the floor. I took in a breath then raced for Marie’s pod. The seal was still intact. I ran my hand across the controls on the side of the pod. Before I could scan her vitals, something thumped against the pod.

  I peered inside. Marie pressed her face against the canopy. She winked and smiled. I reached over and pulled the release. Her tube came open like a cracked egg, spilling fluid everywhere. She sat up and leaned over the edge of the tube. The breathing liquid came out of her lungs at once, and she drew in a ragged breath.

  “Oh, God,” she said. “I hate these things.”

  “Better than being splattered all over the bulkhead,” I said.

  She was soaked to the bone. It made her uniform press against her form, highlighting her hips and breasts. “I hope you have a towel.”

  “Not on me. But I kind of like you when you’re soaking wet.”

  “Men.”

  I put my arms around her and helped her to the deck. She smiled at me. Her brown hair matted, she looked just perfect.

  She nodded back toward the pod. “Remember last week?”

  “How could I forget? If the Captain caught us, it’d be our asses.”

  “There you go thinking about my ass again.”

  “Can you blame me?” The usual throb of the Daedalus drive wasn’t present, nor was the hum of the main impellers. “I hope we actually landed.”

  “This tub is too big for that,” Marie said.

  “Technically, yes,” I said. “What I meant was, I hope the crash was controlled enough so we can walk away.”

  “We’re walking now, aren’t we?”

  “Yeah, but is everyone else walking?” I took a few steps. “Babe, do you feel heavier?”

  She frowned and put her hand on her hips. “What the hell is that supposed to mean?”

  “Hey, you know what I mean.” I took another step. “The gravity is a little higher.”

  She flexed her knees. “Spican physiology indicated they came from a lower-grav world.”

  “I don’t think we’re on their home world,” I said. “We bounced out of there when we detected active scans. I have no clue where we are.”

  Her smile disappeared. “Then no one does.”

  “What?”

  “Top-secret mission, remember?”

  I shrugged. She was right, as usual, but I shook my head. “SOP is to launch a buoy, which they did after we arrived here. They can backtrack its course. They’ll see the bridge-satellite in orbit, and they’ll know where we are.”

  “It’s going to dogleg its way back to Earth,” she said. “That’ll take awhile.”

  That, I couldn’t deny. We couldn’t send a homing signal because the Spicans might catch wind of it. Granted, a signal from a bridge-sat didn’t cross normal space, but the characteristic wormhole it created was detectable from a great distance. If the Spicans picked up on that, they would bombard us from orbit the first chance they got. Even if I had clearance, using the bridge-sat was risky. The only thing for us to do was wait for rescue. I was pretty certain UEAF could backtrack the probe on its zigzag course. The real question was how long it would take. It could be months.

  The cargo bay was still intact, but I wasn’t sure about the rest of the ship. We got into enviro-suits before opening the door. The cargo bay exit consisted of two hatches and formed an airlock. Because the cargo bay itself could open into space, it had been designed that way. I cycled it, and when I did, the air rushed in. It was definitely much higher pressure.

  Marie ran her hand across her wrist, checking. “It’s oxygen-nitrogen, mostly.”

  “Mostly?”

  “Yeah, there’s something in the air. I can’t nail down what it is exactly. Pretty complex. I think it’s biological, though.”

  “Then we definitely aren’t cracking our suits.” I stepped out into the corridor. “Let’s find the breach.”

  Down the hall, the damage was obvious. The Kali hadn’t made a safe crash landing. Half the ship had been torn away. Debris spread up the hillside nearly a hundred meters. The rest of the ship was gone.

  “Oh, no.” She took my hand. “Matthew, what if they’re…”

  “We survived,” I said. “At least some of them had to, too. If they got to their crash pods, they might have made it, too. I’m just glad they made those things so well.”

  She nodded, but I wasn’t sure she was satisfied with that. I wasn’t sure I was. Likely, there were a lot of dead, but I couldn’t focus on that. I had to make sure she was okay.

  Marie stared off at the debris for a few more moments then pointed. “Babe, what’s that?”

  I zoomed in on the hillside toward a row of… something. They were squat, but stood taller than a human. They seemed to be almost red in color, or at least they were red on top. The rest of their shape seemed tan or gray. On their backs, a single, double-jointed arm held some sort of stick with a large hook on the end. Whatever the sticks were, they were definitely weapons. The creatures headed straight for us.

  “Back inside.” I pulled Marie inside and reached for the door. The creatures approached quickly, bounding like frogs. I shut the door and spun the wheel until it locked. I cycled the airlock, and we went through the inner door and back into the cargo bay. After locking that one, she removed her helmet.

  “Can they get in?”

  I shook my head. “I don’t think so. The power to the bay is out, so the auto-lock is no good. The door mechanism is pretty complicated. If you didn’t know how it worked, you might not—”

  A loud thud reverberated through the hold. Marie yelped. A few seconds later, it happened again, louder.

  “They can’t break through,” I said. “They’d need a torch, and from the look of them, a spear is the most complex tool they have.”

  “If they have spears, they have some intelligence.” Marie moved behind me. “Could they figure out the door?”

  I shook my head, but too soon. The wheel spun back and forth. It was complex, so it took effort to open, but an intelligent being could figure it out. Even so, people usually needed a demonstration before—

  The lock clicked, and the door started to cycle open.

  “Oh, God, no,” Marie said. “Matthew…”

  I pointed at the crash tubes. “Get in your tube. Now!”

  “What about you?”

  I ran for the emergency box on the wall. “Don’t worry about me. Go now!”

  She climbed into her tube and pressed the button. The canopy closed around her. She pressed her face against the tube window as it filled with breathing fluid, watching me struggle with the box.

  I broke it open with my elbow and pulled out the cutter. I didn’t need to cut my way out, but I hoped the tube connecting the plasma torch to the battery pack would be strong enough to hold the door. I ran to the door, where the wheel turned back and forth. I wrapped the tube around the door wheel lever and a coolant pipe on the wall. I knotted it as best I could and retreated. The door gave way, pushing on the plastic hose of the cutting torch. The door opened only a crack, letting in a rush of outside air. It reeked of sulfur and rot.

  Marie stared at the door from inside the crash tube. I tried to smile reassuringly. “I doubt they can get in.”

  The coolant pipe snapped like a twig, and the door flew open. The gap in the door was almost too narrow for the creature on the other side to slip through, but it managed to find a way. Its thick body thinned somehow, and then it pushed itself into the cargo bay.

  Marie tried to scream, but the breathing fluid in her lungs muffled her voice. I ran for my crash tube and dove
in. The thing behind me called out like a broken bassoon. Its feet clicked on the metal grates on the floor as it bounded toward me.

  I pressed the button, and my tube snapped shut, flooding immediately. I pushed myself against the canopy. The monsters had scattered all over the cargo bay, but one focused on Marie’s tube.

  The canopy shook. One of the creatures hovered over my tube. Again and again, it pounded the canopy with its single arm. Others did the same to Marie’s tube. I doubted they could crack it. If it could survive a fall from orbit, the crash couch could certainly keep a monster out.

  One ran its smaller fore-claws under the edge of Marie’s tube. Another one joined in. It didn’t take long from there. They got sharp claws on the edges of the lid and lifted. The canopy popped off and flew across the cargo bay. The creatures ignored the fluid spilling out of the tube and focused on Marie as she screamed.

  I tried to scream in the thick fluid.

  My own tube came open a few seconds later. A claw pulled me out before the fluid hit the floor. The creature held me aloft as it hopped across the cargo bay. It tossed me through the small door, where another creature caught me in midair.

  Soon, Marie and I were both outside in the rotten air. We passed burning debris and wreckage from what was once a spaceship.

  “Matthew!”

  “I’m here!” I inhaled the planet’s air for the first time. My ears popped in the thicker air. I could breathe it, but it was humid. Breathing it was like breathing soup. Roughly, the creature dropped me next to Marie. I reached for her, but another one dragged me away with a central arm that was on its stomach instead of its back.

  “Let go of me!”