Alien Worlds (5 page)

But she followed and found he was right. His cave was more like a cranny. The wedge-shaped crack was six meters deep and wide enough to let them sit. The wind cut as they pressed inside.

Impani fell to her knees. She felt battered. A mass of bruises. Lifting her head, she followed the crevice up the glacier. Blue sky showed above. Silt and dust sifted through sunlight.

“So, what do you think?” he asked.

“I’m tired and hungry.”

“I mean about the planet. What’s with the salt?”

She sat with her back to the wall and knees to her chest. “We’re on the bottom of an ocean. A dried up, desiccated ocean. This world suffered a cataclysmic event. Maybe a comet hit. Or an asteroid. It shifted the axis so it doesn’t spin anymore.”

“Sounds like you’ve given it a lot of thought.”

“I don’t see why we’re here. This planet might have been a candidate for exploration once, but it isn’t now.”

“Maybe they don’t know what happened.”

“Oceans don’t boil away overnight. They had to know. It’s like the place was stricken from the viable worlds list, but the ring brought us here anyway. An old computer reference.”

“A mistake,” he said.

She shuddered.

A shadow passed. It happened so quickly, she couldn’t tell if something had blotted out the sky or ran across the crevice mouth.

Trace leaped up. He leaned into the swirling dust and looked both ways. “Wait here. I want to check something.”

“I’ll go with you.” She moved to stand.

He pushed her down again. “I’m heavier than you. I won’t blow away.” Bowing to the thrust of the wind, he stepped from the cleft.

“Wait!” she called. Where was he going? How could he leave her?

On hands and knees, Impani peered from her shelter. The slanting salt diminished his form to shadow. She leaned farther, staring past her partner to the ridge beyond.

She saw a silhouette. Someone else followed the curving ledge. The figure struggled, weaving in and out of blowing dust. It wore a tight-fitting garment that blended with the color of the glacier.

“Skinsuit,” she whispered then realized it was true. They had found one of their own.

I
mpani left the cleft in the salt face to lurch against the gale. Her fingers groped the polished wall. A gust struck like a blow to her stomach and nearly knocked her off her feet. She hunkered low, ducking her head and shuffling her boots as she moved.

Perhaps leaving her shelter was a bad idea. She saw no sign of her partner, no evidence of another Scout. If anything, the scouring salt storm was worse than before. She should go back. But she continued.

The glaciers moaned. Salt hissed at her mask. Impani flattened against the wall. Was she going the wrong way? Had she missed a turn she should have taken? She should have caught up with Trace by now.

A jagged crevice winked at her through swirling dust. She staggered toward it, each step countered by rising force as the whirlwind sought to toss her aside. Arms stretched before her, she stumbled blindly. At last, she pushed into a cave.

Trace stood inside. He turned as she entered but did not seem to see her. His mask was up, and his face was raw. A thin line of blood sketched his cracked lips.

“Trace?” she lifted her own mask. “I saw another Scout.”

“Gone,” he said. “Never here.”

The flatness of his voice alarmed her. She moved from the cave mouth to stand opposite him across the swirling floor. The wind sighed and rushed skyward as if caught in a chimney. Outside, it screamed.

She said, “What do we do now?”

He held out his hands. “I followed him. I thought he was real. I thought he went into this cave. But when I got here—”

“A ring must have taken him. They’re looking for us.”

“We’re lost. We’re never going home.”

“Don’t talk like that.”

“I can’t stay on this stinking world. I’ve got to get out of here.” He rushed toward the entrance across the center of the cave.

“Stop!” she yelled.

The crust of salt broke. Trace sank to his knees. His face darkened beneath its dusty coat. Bellowing, he kicked and stomped—and the salt poured in, drawing him deeper.

“Hold still!”

He seemed not to hear her. He pulverized the floor with his fists. A crater developed about his waist, the salt rolling. A terrified dawning swept his expression. “It’s sucking me under!”

Impani dove flat on her stomach. The surface crumbled beneath her. “Take my hand.”

“I can’t.” He gasped. Powder poured around his chest.

“Yes, you can.” She strained, reaching. Reaching. Her fingertips latched onto his. “Now, swim.”

He closed his eyes, wheezing raggedly. At first, she thought he hadn’t understood. Then the crust beyond the crater buckled. He leaned forward and flattened his body as if he were escaping quicksand.

“That’s right.” She grasped his hand in both of hers.

He groaned and coughed. Silt scattered with his breath. His back elongated and lifted from the salt. Impani grabbed his wrist and pulled.

Suddenly her stomach twisted. The void swirled.

The Impellic ring was approaching.

“Not now,” she pleaded. She had to pull him to safety first. He might suffocate before the wormhole took them away.

Darkness ate her vision. His glove slipped from her grasp.

“Hold on.” She leaped for his arm. “Got you.”

Extreme velocity enveloped her.
Dear Gods of Utopia. Mother of the Seven Hells.
She would pray to anyone if they made it stop, if they led her home. But they were not traveling back to the Impellic Chamber at the academy. They were hurdling to a different world, jumping out of control.

With a wrenching sensation, she emerged into silence. Her ears rang with the cessation of sound. She glanced around.

Green light. Green smell. She lay face down on a tree branch wider than a walkway.

Trace let out a wail. His weight twisted as he kicked his feet. Impani held onto him, both hands locked about his arm. Her eyes streamed, hot with salt—and part of her marveled at that. How had she brought over a substance from another world? Did the techs know such a thing was possible?

Dust sifted from her shoulders as she grasped her partner’s elbow. With all her strength, she pulled him upward.

He climbed onto the branch. “I almost fell. Were you trying to kill me?”

“I was saving you.”

“Next time, let me handle things.” He sputtered and spat salt. “I don’t need help from a girl.”

“Fine.” Let him handle things? No problem. She never wanted him as a partner, anyway.

She slipped off her gloves, shook them clean, then used them to brush her skinsuit. Her neck ached, and her arms felt torn from their sockets. She pursed her lips. They felt chapped, encrusted in salt. She reached for the water flask, but hesitated and left it on her belt.

The tree limb they stood upon was several meters thick. The bark was dark and shaggy. It gave the impression of extreme age. Light filtered through a mosaic of leaves and turned the air bright green. Branches spread in all directions but with too much space between them to climb. Her gaze followed the limbs overhead.

Movement. Something green. She shaded her eyes. A vine dropped upon her. It wrapped about her forearm so quickly she didn’t have a chance to react. It yanked. Painfully. Her feet left the branch.

A scream bubbled up her throat. “Help me!”

<<>>

T
race leaped to his feet and stared at Impani. She dangled by one arm two meters in the air. He almost laughed—but his attention darted away. Movement flicked along the tree limbs. Snatches of green too quick to be realized.

He frowned and gazed upward. “Is something in the tree?”

“I’m in the tree,” she yelled. “Get me down!”

“Stop kicking.” He grabbed her legs.

“I can’t pull loose.” She gasped and struggled. “My arm is on fire.”

He gazed up the endless vine. Pale filaments covered its surface—feather-soft hair glistening with moisture, nudging his memory.

She fell limp.

He shook her. “Wake up.”

“Trace, please… help me.” Her words slurred.

Drawing his stat-gun, he sent an arc of ice-blue energy slicing across the vine. At the same time, an echoing shriek filled the air.

A bird? Just what he needed.

Impani dropped into his arms. He lowered her to the branch and uncoiled the severed vine from her forearm. Slimy residue marred her skinsuit. Her hand was bone-white where the fibers touched bare skin. He tossed the vine a few meters away. It writhed like the tail of a lizard.

His partner’s face was pale. Labored breathing. Her emerald eyes were wide. Vulnerable and afraid.

He fumbled to unhitch the med-pac from his belt. “That vine reminds me of the plants we had back home. They grew, oh, about knee-high. We had to clear the fields of them before we could seed.” He sorted through the pac and removed the derma-jecter, laying in a dose of antihistamine before snapping the tube shut. He pressed the ‘jecter beneath Impani’s jaw and felt a pop as it released. “They’d leave runners in the undergrowth, like long, hairy tongues. If anything touched them, they’d coil around them superfast and exude a kind of sedative. When their prey stopped struggling, the plants just reeled them in.”

She winced and rubbed the knot that formed from the injection. “They were carnivorous?”

“My father lost his foot to one. I was just a kid, but I was there and that made me responsible.” He forced a smile. “Are you feeling better?”

She nodded and slowly sat up. “I guess you saved my life.”

He reached for her gloves lying upon the bark. “Let’s make a pact. Neither of us will remove our gloves until we return home.”

“Deal.” Impani examined her withered hand.

He looked away. “I’m… sorry about what I said. You did save me on the salt world.”

“I was afraid the salt would crush you.”

“At the time, so was I.”

“Trace,” she said, “it’s okay to be afraid.”

“Afraid?” He scowled. “I’m not afraid.”

“I only meant—”

“This is your fault, anyway.”

“My fault?”

“Did it occur to you that had we gone to the cave as expected instead of galloping half way across the desert on the back of some beast, the Impellic ring would not have lost its lock on us?”

“That’s ridiculous. The ring should have found us no matter where we were.”

“Well, it didn’t,” he muttered.

“I’m not listening to this.” She got to her feet.

“Where are you going?”

“Away. Where I won’t be a burden.”

He leaped up to follow, but stopped. “Go ahead. See what other trouble you can find.”

<<>>

N
ewton Ambri-Cutt buried his fists in his hair. His eyes teared. “My calculations were correct. We should have found them.”

“Maybe they
were
on the planet.” Chief Astrut sat on the desk. “But unless you drop the rescue party right in their laps—”

“They may have jumped again. I’ll start over.”

“They’re lost. There is no way to pinpoint them with accuracy.”

“But we can get close. And if I can determine the probable area—”

“Go home,” the Chief said. “You haven’t slept. You’ve barely eaten.”

“If I can calculate their whereabouts, then the rescue party should be able to target them using the same method.” Ambri-Cutt slid back his chair. “We need a handheld device, something that will guide the rescuers to the cadets once they’re on the planet.”

“I don’t know, Newton.”

“It will work. It has to work.” He covered his face. “I can’t let her die.”

“What do you mean
her?
There are two of them. Why are you so focused on this girl?”

“She reminds me of someone. My daughter.”

“Miriette?” The Chief sighed and rested a hand on his shoulder. “She’d be about the same age now, wouldn’t she?”

“I always thought I would be there for her. Give her advice about dating. On choosing a career. Now, she won’t even accept my messages.”

“What do you expect? She’s on another world.”

“I have no idea what her mother is telling her. It’s been five years. You’d think she’d change. Forgive.”

“She hasn’t changed because you haven’t changed,” the Chief said. “Look at you. Still putting work first.”

“It was the money. There was never enough.”

“Is that a ploy for a raise?”

His lips twitched. “I wouldn’t turn it down.”

“Would you take a vacation then? Maybe visit your daughter?”

“It’s too late for that.” Ambri-Cutt rubbed his stinging eyes. “But it isn’t too late for Impani. I can find her. I know I can. Give me a chance.”

“A handheld device, you say? Why didn’t I think of that?” He moved toward the door. “All right. I’ll speak to the Director.”

<<>>

I
mpani stormed down the mammoth tree limb. Fibers muffled her footsteps. “My fault? How could it be my fault?” She swung her arms, wanting to punch something. “How anyone could stand that unyielding, unforgiving—”

A knoll snagged her boot. She kicked it hard and stepped up her pace. The branch edged to the left. They should be working together. They should be trying to learn what happened to the ring instead of finding fault and pointing blame.

“And to think I let him save my life!”

A rustling sound stopped her. Impani glanced about feeling suddenly alone. Ms. Kline’s words came to mind—
scouting is a dangerous business, that’s why all Scouts are dispatched in pairs. You have to work with other people.
Of course, Ms. Kline never partnered with Trace Hanson.

“You’re a senior cadet,” she whispered. “On a normal drop, you would be investigating that sound.”
But this isn’t a normal drop
, an inner voice answered. “It’s probably just blowing leaves.” Although she didn’t feel a breeze.

She pushed her attention back to the Impellic ring. Malfunctions weren’t covered in class, but she’d learned a bit by speaking with Mr. Ambri-Cutt. Rings were used in sequence. If the sequencer were poorly calibrated, the rings would not align. That would be operator error. Sometimes a ring would fracture under stress, and the operator would have to re-weave the energy or make a substitution. Or on long drops, a ring might dissipate altogether.

She frowned. Each of those scenarios depended upon a tech to bring them home. They would have done that by now. Something must be preventing them from gaining a clear lock. If that were true, perhaps she could correct the problem on her end.

A flower bud nearly a meter in height blocked the branch ahead. Impani edged sideways so as not to touch the filaments at the stem. Her mind remained on the puzzle of the ring. If only she had someone knowledgeable to talk to. If only Trace Hanson wasn’t such a stunkard’s ass. What was he saying about the plant life of his home world?