Alien Worlds (4 page)

As he reached the cliff, one of the pinions pulled free. With agonizing slowness, the support ropes parted. Impani scrabbled at the cloth. Her face was pale and stricken, her mouth wide. She lifted her gaze to him.

He felt an electrifying jolt. Textbook scenarios raced through his mind. The bridge shook and dropped another meter. Rock crumbled about its mooring and exposed the final pinion.

Impani climbed the fabric, one hand stretched toward the remaining rope. The bridge flapped as if to shake her off.

He extracted a length of metallic line from his belt and swung it over his head. “Catch!” he shouted as he released the line and sent the barbed end flying. It struck the bridge too high, too far out of her reach.

This can’t be happening
.

He reeled in the line. With a steadying breath, he threw again.

The metallic line flew outward. She reached for it. But the tower jerked and tossed him onto his back. The line fell short.

“No!” He scrambled to his knees.

Impani lost her grip on the rope. She clawed the slick material as she slid down the length.

He rushed to the rocky cliff, snagged the bridge, and pulled it in by fistfuls. In the back of his mind, reality shifted. A sense of duality stirred.

The Impellic ring was approaching.

Elation filled him. “Hold on! The ring’s coming. They’re bringing us back.”

The frayed edge of fabric ripped. Impani shrieked. She clung to the cloth as it dropped several meters.

What if she fell? She could be dead before the technicians got them home.

With both hands on the exposed pinion, he eased over the cliff. He had to reach Impani, had to help her hold on. His head swam, and he blinked to clear his vision. Hand-over-hand, he shuffled along the rope.

Behind him, the stone pillar broke with the sound of cracking glass. Rock slid into the chasm. Dust filled the air.

Then the bridge heaved a tremendous snap. The metal pinion twisted. Trace froze, fists locked, as the pinion pulled free and the final rope dropped away.

I
mpani felt the pinion snap. Her fingers clutched the fabric. She turned her face away, unable to scream, unable to breathe.

The bridge fell smoothly. Drapes of material fluttered around her as she rode the fabric into the chasm. Panic welled inside, belying a vague sense of disbelief.

She was going to die.

Her fingers lost their hold. She fell free. Wind wailed around her and ripped at her limbs. In the back of her awareness, a misty void took shape. Her thoughts leaped with recognition.

The Impellic ring.

Darkness flooded her vision. Tendrils of energy latched onto her being and dragged her from reality. She thrashed and tumbled. Helpless. Hopeless.

Then there was rock. Impani clawed frantically as she tried to break her fall. The surface shifted. Dust rose in an acrid cloud. It burned her eyes, her nose, her lips.

Salt, she thought with abrupt clarity. She was sliding down a mountain of salt.

Fear mixed with wonder. Where was she?

She dug in with her knees, arms outstretched. Gradually, her body leveled. She sat up. Tears streamed down her face. Salty dust ran into her eyes. Her lungs were on fire, her throat swollen and dry.

What had happened? She’d been clinging to the bridge. The stone pillar was falling, but the pinion held—until her partner climbed onto the rope.

Trace stirred from a drift of powder.

Impani turned on him. “What were you trying to do? Kill us both? If the ring hadn’t caught us—” She grimaced.

He got to his knees, eyes wide in his white-coated face. He seemed lost, and she was sorry she had spoken sharply.

“You were in trouble,” he murmured. “I wanted to rescue you.”

“I didn’t need your help.”

Dust poured from his shoulders as he stood. “Well, where are we, anyway?”

She turned her back to hide a fresh bout of tears then wiped her face with salt-encrusted fingers. Her cheeks throbbed, abraded by the harsh mountain. After a moment, she removed a flask of water from her belt, rinsed her gloves, then dabbed her eyes.

“Here.” She held out the flask. “You should wash your face.”

“Go easy on the water. You may need it.”

A retort died in her throat. Why did he always make her feel foolish? She took a scant swallow of the cooling liquid then returned the flask to her belt.

As she brushed off, she gave herself a quick VSE to make certain that her suit was undamaged. Visual Surveillance of Extremities was one of the first things she learned after being issued a skinsuit. She never appreciated its importance until then.

With one hand over her eyes, she gazed toward the blade-edged ridge of salt. It looked more like a glacier than a mountain—gray and variegated yellow. The sky was blue, the sun bright overhead. The air was still, but she heard the moan of wind.

“Do you still think this is part of a session?” she said. It sounded cheap and sarcastic even to her own ears.

He stood beside her. “Have you ever heard of a ring malfunctioning?”

“Not in any of the textbooks.” But she remembered Mr. Ambri-Cutt warning her about the dangers of a fractured ring and how difficult it was to reweave the energy.

If they were trapped in the wormhole, would they keep jumping indefinitely?

Trace took out his tri-views. “We appear to be in a basin. A passage lies in that direction. Can you tell what’s beyond it?”

She shook salt out her sonic resonator and wiped the screen. “Readings are inconclusive. The basin must cup the sound waves, bounce them back to us.” She glanced up the steep side of the glacier. “I’d hate to be stuck here if that salt begins to slide.”

“Agreed.” He walked off.

Impani glared. She wanted to rail at him, to vent her frustration. They were in trouble.

Was he never afraid?

Arms about her chest, she trudged behind her partner. The shifting drifts of powder tried to trip her. She edged toward the center of the basin where the salt was packed smooth.

They couldn’t be lost. The technicians must know where they were. This was simply an extra-long training session, a sort of final exam. It was just her luck to have Trace as her partner. Why couldn’t she have been paired with Natica—or Davrileo? Anyone but this by-the-book, self-righteous, disturbing—

The salt gave way beneath her step. Impani yelped. She sank to one knee, her foot in a hole.

“Hold on,” Trace cried. “I’m coming.”

“Stay there. I mean it.” All she needed was to have him come to her rescue again.

Powder poured around her boot, sucking it under, drawing it deep. She tried to pull free, but the hole crumbled. Salt enveloped her thigh. She leaned back, and her hand punched through the crust.

“Watch it!” he yelled.

That earned him a glare. At least, he remained near the glacier.

Impani sealed her mask. She lay face down on the basin floor then rolled onto her side. Her foot loosened with the new angle. Slowly turning onto her back, she extracted her leg from the salt. The rim caved in beneath her hips. She sucked in her breath, trying to make herself lighter. With both arms overhead, she rolled toward the glacier. The surface crackled with her shifting weight.

“I’ve got you.” Trace scooped her up.

She shrugged him away and looked back. The crater where she had fallen continued to grow. It ate at the crust of packed salt, reaching inexorably toward them. Soon the entire basin would be impassable.

“We can’t stay here.” She got to her feet. “Let’s keep moving.”

She led along the glacier’s base until she reached a jagged passage. A steady current of air coursed through—as if the basin were having its breath sucked away. A gale roared on the other side. She exchanged a glance with her partner. Lurching over drifted salt, she entered the pass.

Wind howled and tested her balance. Dust tapped her mask. She groped the glacier wall and forced her way toward the jagged strip of sunlight ahead.

The passage opened onto a ridge that dropped five hundred meters. The gale screamed and threatened to flail the flesh from her bones. Impani leaned against the wall and looked out.

Salt rose in steeples and spires, polished by the high winds and sparkling with the sun. Powdery clouds swirled like snow devils. In the distance, the blue sky deepened to indigo.

“Which way?” Trace shouted.

She looked at him. His mask had darkened with the sunlight. It hid his face. She wondered if he was still unafraid. Without a word, she turned her back to the wind and followed the narrow ridge.

<<>>

N
ewton Ambri-Cutt’s knees quaked. He entered Director Hammond’s office. Her assistant motioned him to a chair then closed the door with a click that sounded like a gunshot. Ambri-Cutt took his seat. His shoulders hunched. From beneath his knotted brow, he glanced about the room.

The Director sat behind a huge granite desk. The sides of the desk looked rough and broken, but the polished top glowed with reflected sunlight. Ambri-Cutt swallowed thickly, hands clenched to the point of pain. When the Director looked at him, he cringed.

Her eyes were the color of her desk, her glare cold. She said, “I understand you were responsible for the ring that went awry. Two cadets are lost.”

Ambri-Cutt squeaked, “Yes, Madam Director.”

“How long have you been with us, Mr. Ambri-Cutt? How many jumps have you handled only to lose this particular ring?” She stood and walked to a sky-lit window. “Do you know who was in that ring?”

Impani
. Ambri-Cutt closed his eyes.

“The son of a man so powerful he has lunch with the President,” the Director said. “The son of a man who could lobby against us and end the expansion program forever. One wonders if that was your plan all along. To throw weight behind the Mankind First activists who protest daily at our doors.”

“No!” Ambri-Cutt nearly leaped from his seat. The thought turned his stomach. Mankind First claimed the exploration and colonization of other worlds was perilous. They charged that public funding would be better spent furthering conditions at home. Their shortsighted whining would lead humankind back to the dark ages. “I am not a sympathizer.”

“Nonetheless, that is what I will tell the media when they learn of this fiasco.”

“But it was an accident. I didn’t mean—”

“What does it matter what you meant?” she snapped. “I am trying to protect the Project. The Colonial Expansion Board is under control of the government, and the government must answer to its people. The public ignores our successes and sees only our failures.”

“The CEB will never bow to such pressure.”

“They will if the President dictates it. And he’s seriously considering spinning us off. A private interest group is offering to take over the program. Private interest. We would be owned. Traded like… a business.”

He gawked. “The Board would be dissolved? You can’t be serious.”

“One more mistake, they told me. One more. Now, you hand me this.”

“They don’t have to know,” he said in a voice he couldn’t recognize. “We could stage a rescue.”

She barked a laugh. “Those children are trapped in an unstable wormhole. Where in this universe are we to look?”

“Homing beacons. The same beacons that allow the Impellic ring to maintain a lock can be used to pinpoint their location.”

“I’d like to meet the person who could accomplish that.”

“I can. I know I can.”

“Impossible. It’s never been attempted.” Her gaze flickered. “Besides, they must be dead by now. Materialized upon some gas giant.”

“I don’t think so.” He slid to the edge of his seat. “The rings would still conform to the computer’s parameters. They will only drop to worlds with oxygen and water.”

She sank behind her desk and winced as if her thoughts were painful. “If they’re alive, we can’t abandon them.”

“I will pinpoint their location, and then you can send two more Scouts—”

“And the new ring can latch onto all four. But is a ring powerful enough to carry that many people?”

He shook his head. “Impellic theorists agree they must jump in pairs. Otherwise, the ring would overload, become off-balanced. No, the rescue party will give them the equipment they need to construct a stronger beacon. Repair the fractured ring.”

“What? We’re talking about children. They aren’t capable of understanding tech.”

Impani understands. Impani is brilliant.

But he couldn’t tell Director Hammond that—not without causing a new set of problems. Techs like him weren’t allowed to be friendly with students.

The Director frowned. Her eyes flicked back and forth as if reading the headlines of a distasteful news report—or her own resignation. After several moments, her cold, gray gaze met his. “You understand that if this plan fails I will use it to further confirm your duplicity.”

“I won’t fail.”

“I hope not, Mr. Ambri-Cutt. For both our sakes, I sincerely hope not.”

<<>>

I
mpani inched along the ridge. The sandpaper wind roared and lashed her body. She knew she was on the verge of collapse. The constant shush of windblown salt against her mask deafened her. It made her feel closed in, setting her nerves on edge. She couldn’t imagine a worse planet to be sent to, couldn’t understand why this world would be on the academy’s list at all.

A gust struck, and her breath shortened. Her legs faltered, and she nearly fell.

Trace touched his mask to hers. “Just a little farther,” he yelled. “There might be shelter ahead.”

He’d said those words so many times they no longer had a bolstering effect. Impani didn’t know how long they’d walked. Hours may have passed, but the sun never moved. The planet was static—it had a day side and a night side.

He nudged her shoulder to urge her forward. The ledge narrowed and curved. When it doubled back, for a hope-sick moment, she thought it might lead to respite.

But the bend opened onto a whirlwind. Her feet left the ground. The wind slammed her airborne body against the wall and sent her tumbling. She exhaled loudly as she struck the ledge. She couldn’t call out, couldn’t stop herself from rolling. Another gust picked her up, and she sailed over the edge.

Trace caught her arm. For a moment, she felt like a kite. Wind whipped her and tried to tear her from his grasp. Then he pulled her in.

She lay flat on her back. “I can’t do this. I can’t keep on.” She knew it wasn’t the Scout thing to say, knew he would probably report her, but she didn’t care. Something was wrong. There was nothing to gain by sending them to this hostile world.

He tugged at her. “Let’s go.”

“No! I’ll blow away again.”

“I see a cave ahead. Come on. You can make it. I know you can.”

With a groan, Impani pushed to her feet.

She couldn’t see a cave, couldn’t see anything through blowing grit and dust. It was a ploy. A trick to get her moving again. She’d tell him off if she had breath to spare.