Alien Worlds (3 page)

She had to get a sample before they were gone. She pulled out a specimen container.

Trace grabbed her arm.

Fifteen meters away, a reptilian face lifted from a dune of sand. It watched them. Impani’s breath caught in her throat. The creature climbed to the top of the bank. It thrust out its neck and opened its jaws, exposing a double row of hooked teeth.

In a low voice, Trace said, “Keep your eyes on him. I’m reaching for my gun.”

Impani cringed. Images swam to her mind—the slaughtered beast in the carotene forest, Davrileo Mas smiling. With an inarticulate cry, she leaped to her feet and waved her arms. “Hey, get away from us, you dumb lizard.”

The creature blinked then ran straight at them.

Impani spun and headed for the pyramid of rocks. Trace sprinted alongside. His stat-gun was still holstered. He glanced at Impani then looked away, and she felt as if he’d slapped her, called her a fool.

Indignation quickened her pace. Sand kicked up and tapped her back as her stride lengthened. Her boots skimmed the ground. Her belt slapped her hips.

The reptile closed fast on agile legs. Its tail swished the air, sounding like a rapier. It was right behind her.

Impani fled blindly. The rocks loomed ahead. She concentrated on them, memorizing every ledge, every possible handhold. Her vision bounced and blurred with her steps. Her belt drummed against her hips. A stitch spread along her ribcage and ignited an inferno in her chest. The belt dropped off.

The belt!

She dove into the sand.

Trace dodged. “Come on!”

Impani glanced behind her. The lizard leaped and tumbled over her shoulders as if it had misjudged her sudden movement. It landed on its back and clawed the air

She skittered away on her backside. The creature hissed and thrashed. Unable to gain its feet. Trace had reached shelter. She draped the belt about her neck and ran after him.

The mound of rocks loomed above her. Shadow hid the crevices. Where were the handholds she’d noticed before?

She leaped, trying to climb. Her fingers fumbled. Frantic, she leaped again. Behind her, the lizard gave a sibilant snarl. Its tail whipped the air. It was coming.

Where were the handholds?

Impani tore at the unyielding rock. A cry escaped her throat. Suddenly, Trace reached down. She grasped his hand in both of hers and pulled her spent body higher. Her shoulders burned. Her legs shook.

The reptile’s claws scrabbled against the rock. Its heavy tail lashed the sand. Impani drew her boots out of reach and leaned into Trace Hanson’s arms.

She shuddered, her face screwed up. She could have died, could have gotten them both killed. The dragon creature paced, trying to get at them.

“Why didn’t you shoot it?” she asked.

“We aren’t here to butcher the locals.”

Impani chuckled, wanting only to sink deeper into the embrace of this boy she barely knew. “I think I’ve had enough sightseeing for one day.”

“Come on,” he said. “Let’s climb to the top of these rocks. Just to look around.”

With a reluctant nod, she followed her partner. Wind had scoured the boulders smooth and filled the gaps between them with sand. She concentrated on the climb, flushed with exertion.

At last, she pulled herself to the top. Dunes spread in an endless sea. Regret crested over her. “You were right. We could have walked for hours and not found anything.”

“We found the sunken river.” Trace shrugged and took the belt from around her shoulders. “The clasp is loose.”

“I noticed that when I was dressing. I should have requested a replacement.”

“Yes, you should have.”

She glanced up at his sharp words, but his expression belied his tone. Trace moved close and wrapped the belt about her waist. Impani held her breath. She felt the strength of his arms about her, felt her flesh tingle with his touch.

What was she doing? He was a criminal, a grim reminder of her past. She brushed his hands away, fastened the belt, and gave it a firm tug.

“I guess we should have searched the caves after all,” she said. “Now, we’re trapped up here.”

“It doesn’t matter. Don’t you feel it? The ring is coming.”

Impani looked at him. Yes, she could feel it—a swirling darkness poised at the edge of her awareness. Emotions warred within. “Drel,” she whispered. “It’s too soon.”

<<>>

N
ewton Ambri-Cutt sat behind his console in the control room at the academy. What was Impani doing at that moment? Whatever it was, it was sure to be impressive. She was the brightest cadet he’d ever met. He loved talking to her about his job, seeing that little light of comprehension behind her eyes. It made him proud of her, as if she were his own daughter.

His true daughter, Miriette, was Impani’s age. He hadn’t seen her in five years, not since the divorce. It was easy to imagine that she and Impani were alike—brilliant and ambitious, a little rebellious. And beautiful. Miriette must certainly be as beautiful as Impani.

A red light drew his attention. As he reached for it, he caught his reflection in the monitor. A bit of gray, a bit more of a paunch, but not so very old. Maybe he should get away from work more often. Socialize. He could remarry. Maybe have another child, a daughter to make him proud.

He could even name her Impani. He would watch her grow to become all the things he’d failed to be, taking Impellics a step further. She would take the academic world by storm; maybe even introduce her old man to computational linguists and script authors as she topped the ranks of computer science.

Suddenly, a klaxon sounded. Ambri-Cutt snapped forward. His console blazed with flashing lights.

Chief Astrut burst into the room. “Holy seas, Newton. What are you doing? Daydreaming?”

“The ring is losing integrity.” Ambri-Cutt’s fingers flew over the control board, touching lights in sequence, trying to hold the Impellic field together.

“Drel! It’s fragmenting.” The Chief consulted a panel on the wall. “Override it! We’ve got people out there.”

Impani! Ambri-Cutt gasped. Impani’s out there! Sweat ran down his temple. He slammed the keyboard as if he could re-weave the fraying energy by sheer force.

Behind him, the Chief tapped commands into the computer. “Switching to back up.”

But Ambri-Cutt knew failure was imminent. With growing horror, he watched the lights turn steady red. His mind raced his fingers, diverting power from one coil to the next, but he was unable to affect the cascading collapse.

Impani.

What had he done?

“My God.” He glanced up. “I’ve lost her.”

<<>>

“T
he ring can’t be coming,” Impani said. “They’re recalling us too soon.”

“Maybe a shortened session is part of the test.” Trace walked to the edge of the rock.

She gazed at the dune desert. Disappointment closed over her like a shroud. The ring was coming. Why would they take her so soon? They hadn’t given her a chance.

It was over. She should close her mask. At least
look
professional.

Vertigo wrenched her thoughts. She staggered and clutched her stomach as if she’d suffered a physical blow. “Something’s wrong.”

Trace turned. He reached for her in slow motion. His face elongated.

Impani screamed. She felt the ring twist, felt tearing pain as if her body were turning inside out. Panic stirred a whirlwind in her mind.

What was going on? What was wrong with the ring?

Pulsebeat ravaged her ears. Pressure built until she thought her head would explode. Then darkness grabbed hold, a demon tightening its fist, and she fell into the void.

P
ain. Coldness. Impani turned onto her side. Something scuffed her cheek. The back of her neck throbbed. She groaned and massaged her knotted muscles. She needed sleep. Just a little nap. She would report to Ms. Kline then go straight to her room.

Alarm cut through her dulled senses. Her eyes flew open. She had not returned to the Impellic Chamber. Where was she?

Beside her, Trace sprawled on his back.

She leaned over him and shook his shoulders. “Wake up. Please.”

He rubbed his forehead. “You okay?”

She kept her eyes upon his. “No.”

With a grunt, he lurched to his feet then drew her beside him. She leaned against his chest and stared at her boots. She didn’t want to look. At last, she lifted her gaze.

They stood upon a precipice of white stone, cold and as still as death. Similar columns rose to the horizon—great, craggy monoliths clouded by floating dust. The air had a metallic taint, almost like blood.

“What’s happened to us?” she whispered.

He frowned. “I don’t know.”

She felt an upsurge of panic. “But we’re not in danger. Right? I mean, we’re only cadets.”

Trace lifted the tri-views to his eyes. “Take a reading, please.”

“Take a reading? Is that the best you can do?”

“We will not deviate from procedure.”

She wanted to punch him. “Who cares about procedure? We have to get home.”

He spun about, towering over her. “And when we do go back, I want to be able to say I kept my head. I didn’t panic like some coddled socialite disobeying daddy.”

Coddled? Socialite? A thousand retorts filled her head. She stared into his hawk-like eyes. “I am not panicking.”

“Fine. Then take a reading.” He strode several paces away. Bits of flaked stone scattered from his step.

Impani glowered. How dare he suggest she wasn’t brave? She was a senior cadet. She’d been at the academy months longer than he’d been.

Why wasn’t he afraid, anyway?

Without warning, the precipice jerked. She fell to her knees. A harsh, grating sound reverberated in her chest and tore at her throat. She pressed her hands against her ears and twisted to look behind them at the other monoliths.

The tower next to theirs quaked. Fissures spread like a dark disease. Plumes of dust shot into the air as its surface buckled and dropped.

Impani clenched her teeth against a scream. Rock shards careened about. The thundering air pummeled her like fists then faded into an echoing rumble.

Half the column had fallen. An updraft swirled dust into streamers.

A shudder wracked her body. Could that happen to them? “What if they don’t know where we are?”

“Of course they do,” he snapped. His eyes shifted from hers, and he knelt beside her. “I’m sorry. I don’t know what’s going on either. But we have to keep sharp. Most likely, this is part of the training session, testing to see how we react under pressure.”

Of course. That made sense. She forced a smile. “Pressure is right. I thought my brain would burst with that last jump.”

“Yeah, it was a rough ride.” He held out his hand. “Come with me. I want to show you something.”

She allowed him to pull her to her feet. Her legs shook as if the column of stone still trembled.

He handed her his tri-views and led her away from the demolished rock. “What do you see?”

Impani lifted the weighty instrument. She adjusted the stereoptics with her thumb. The enhanced image cut through the distance and left the rock stark and bare. She saw column after column, some whole, some jagged like broken teeth. And between them— “Bridges?”

“That’s what I thought. There must be intelligent life somewhere.”

“We should try to find them.”

Trace attached the tri-views to his belt. “Now, you’re sounding like a Scout.” He walked away across the sweep of stone.

Chagrin filled her. She wished she hadn’t voiced her fear that the technicians had lost their lock on them. He must think she was a little kid.

“Be spectacular,” she whispered. A moment later, she followed.

The surface of the pillar was cracked, weathered, and covered in rock chips. She sealed a bit of gravel in a specimen container. “It’s dusty here. I wonder if it ever rains on this world.”

“What’s this?” He brandished a slender, whip-like rod at least five meters long. Similar pieces lay at his feet.

She lifted one. “Feels like bone. Flexible. Like the wing of a bird. Look at the different sizes. Imagine a gigantic bird that sheds its wings as it grows.”

“That would be unlikely.” He tossed the rod away. “Look at these boulders. They’re like statues.”

“Strange.” She circled a pair of lumpy rocks. One sported a weathered face. “Maybe they’re tokens. Religious relics. Too bad we can’t take a holo.”

“I’ll save it in my tri-views.”

Why hadn’t she thought of that? Tri-view field glasses both enhanced and recorded whatever the cadet saw through them. She posed next to a boulder, holding the rod like a walking stick.

Trace skipped backward with the glasses to his eyes, twisting the controls as if unable to get both her and the boulders in focus. He was backing into a pile of fist-sized rocks. She was going to warn him—but didn’t.

He tripped and landed hard on his butt. A puff of dust rose behind him.

Impani laughed, but a loud squawk swallowed the sound. She looked around as the two boulders came alive and spread their wings.

<<>>

T
race gaped at the gargantuan birds. They were a cross between pterodactyls and gargoyles. Long, pointed beaks showed rocklike teeth. Their talons were like stone daggers. Their wings had claws at the upper joints, ready to grasp and rend.

Trace scrambled backward. He scattered the pile of rocks as he tried to gain his feet. The great birds took to the air and hovered above him. A huge beak snapped at his head.

Impani swung at them with a whip-like bone. The creatures screeched. They dipped and rose out of her reach as they pecked in turn at Trace. Their wings stirred a whirlwind that peppered him with debris.

A huge talon slashed down. Trace rolled to the side, picked up a smooth, fist-sized stone, and chucked it as hard as he could. The bird caught it in its beak. It had a distensible pouch similar to a pelican. He picked up another stone.

“Don’t!” Impani yelled. “Those are eggs.”

He glanced from the stone in his hand to those around his feet. He’d stumbled into their nest. That explained why they were attacking him and not her.

Bright, blue light streaked between the birds. She had fired a warning shot. It blinded him for a moment, and he missed being skewered by mere centimeters.

She fired again. This time it was a direct hit. Blue aura encased one of the birds. It squawked and flew higher. Its beady eye turned to Impani.

Trace felt a sudden flare of rage. “Oh, no you don’t. You want this?” He hurled the egg. “Take it!”

The bird snatched the egg out of the air. Its pouch expanded.

He pitched the eggs in all directions. The birds darted about with their beaks open, catching them. When he’d thrown the last one, he turned to rocks. He pelted the enormous creatures. “Go on! Get out of here!”

With their beaks full, the birds flew away.

“Good riddance.” Trace threw a final rock.

Impani grasped his arm. “Are you hurt?”

He glanced at her, his face hot. “No. Are you?”

She shook her head.

He watched the birds disappear into the hazy sky. His hands shook with spent rage. He didn’t know why he got so furious. But when that bird looked like it was going to dive at Impani…

“We’d better get off this tower,” he muttered. “They might come back.”

“I’m open to suggestions.”

“Those bridges must lead somewhere.” He headed toward the cliff.

<<>>

I
mpani holstered her stat-gun. Her heart raced. Those birds might have shredded Trace. And when her weapon had no impact…

She should have warned him to watch where he was stepping but, drel, she didn’t know it was a nest.

They stepped along the edge of the precipice. Crevices scarred the rock face. Long-bodied insects darted about their feet. She searched for more boulder statues that might turn into animals. She didn’t want to be taken unawares again.

Would it have been possible to ride the birds off the monolith? Either bird had been large enough to carry the two of them. She should have snared one with a grappling hook and lashed herself to its back. That would have been extraordinary.

She filed the idea in her missed-opportunities trash bin and focused on the present. Cold air rasped her face and left a gritty, metallic taste at the back of her tongue. The environmental sensors on her sleeve showed marginal atmosphere.

How foolish—both of them without their masks in place. She’d better not mention that in Debrief.

“I’ve found a bridge,” Trace called.

She hurried toward him. Over the side, she saw two fibrous ropes with a drape of fabric between them. Metal pinions secured the rope to the rock. She touched the cloth, and it rippled like water.

“What sort of people could have woven something so wondrous?” She gathered the slick fabric, and it slipped between her fingers.

He motioned toward the next column. “A hundred meters away, maybe one-fifty. I would like to have seen how they constructed this.”

“Maybe they rode birds.”

He glanced skyward as if alarmed.

Impani looked at the misty chasm below. Swallowing a flutter of fear, she stepped onto the bridge.

The ropes closed and pinned her body between them. She struggled to step back. The bridge swayed as it released its hold.

Trace muttered, “Now, what?”

“You give up pretty easily for a Scout.”

“Whoever made these bridges were either smaller or lighter than we are. We can’t get across.”

“Well, we can’t stand here and wait for the techs to send a ring. The birds might return, or the pinnacle might crumble beneath our feet. Besides, maybe the whole point of this session is to see if we can solve the riddle.”

“This isn’t a game.”

She pursed her lips and turned away. No, not a game. A competition. One she needed to win at all costs. If she was too heavy for the bridge, she would either have to walk on top of the ropes or—

“Wait a minute,” she said. “Do you see how the mist rises?”

“So?”

“There’s an updraft. I noticed it when the tower fell.”

“Impani, I fail to—”

“Hang gliders.” She picked up a wing bone and held it in the air. “We can make gliders out of bones and fabric and sail to the surface.”

His face remained impassive. “It might work.”

“Of course, it will work.” Why couldn’t he just agree with her? “Look, you gather as many bones as you can. All sizes. I’ll slice off a section of cloth.”

“All right, we’ll try it. But I want you to gather the bone. The bridge may be unsafe.”

“I can handle it.” She thrust the bone into his hands and crawled onto the bridge. The ropes closed above her head, encasing her in dusty fabric.

<<>>

T
race watched Impani disappear into the fabric tube. He swallowed a knot of anger. Why was she so difficult? Couldn’t she see he was thinking of her?

He swished the wing bone. How did she expect to make a hang glider out of bits of fabric and pieces of bone? He didn’t like her idea, didn’t like her tone, but most of all he didn’t like the way she made him feel about himself. He always believed his greatest strength was his ability to adapt, to improvise.

Why hadn’t he thought of a glider?

Impani was a lump rolling inside the bridge. Somersaulting most likely. She managed to move a good fifteen meters from the pillar. A knife flashed as it pierced the fabric and sliced from rope to rope. She gathered the material as she scooted laboriously back to the cliff.

It would have been easier to attach lines to the cut edge and drag it back, but he didn’t tell her so.

He retraced his steps to the bird’s nest and the cache of wing bones he’d stumbled upon before. With a sense of being forced against his will, he filled his arms. Some bones were so long they dragged behind him and made it difficult to walk. He scuffed his boots and hunched forward for balance. Dust rose with his footsteps.

Suddenly, the surface heaved beneath his feet. Crevices raced across the monolith. He windmilled his arms, throwing off his load.

The pillar was falling.
Impani
.

Trace ran. Rock exploded and shot skyward in geysers of debris. Thunder echoed in his chest. He leaped across spreading fissures, skidding on broken stone. The surface bucked and threw him to his knees. Ahead, the bridge swayed and tugged at the tower. He sprinted toward it, teeth bared, arms over his head against the fall of rock shards.