“Colonel,” Ravi said. “Just glad to be alive.”
“I accessed your visual cache while the doctor was treating you. You’re one lucky man. That was the mother of all fights.”
“Then you saw it? Saw the monster?”
“Yes, I saw it.”
“And the trees, the bullwhip? That’s what Mark Chitty was trying to tell us.”
“I know,” Vance said. “We can’t go back into the trees now.”
Ravi’s laugh was half hysterical. “So how do we get through the jungle to Sarvar?”
“They’ll have to send a chopper for us, at the very least. I’ve ordered another comm rocket launch. Ken and Chris are unloading one from a sledge right now.”
“Good, that’s good.” Ravi eased himself back onto the thin mattress.
“Ravi, I need to know. Did you ask Angela to come and fetch you?”
“Yes.”
“I see. Why? Why her?”
“She’s the one who survived the monster before. She’s the one I could trust. The only one.”
“You could have asked me.”
“Somebody is sabotaging the convoy. They just told me Karizma deserted with MTJ-1. But I don’t even know if it was her. Maybe there’s someone else. Things were going bad even before we even thought about a convoy.”
Vance did his best not to shout at the wounded, overtoxed pilot. He was surprised at himself now that he knew how much it troubled him that someone in his own command didn’t trust him. Lord curse Karizma and her invidious treachery. “I think we can safely say it was Karizma,” he told Ravi.
“The alien is still out there,” the pilot replied. “It won’t let us leave this world alive.”
“If it thinks that, it’s going to be seriously disappointed. Now you get some rest.”
“A Berlin can’t reach us from Sarvar, not without refueling. The Daedaluses won’t fly over the mountains.” Ravi’s voice was rising. Several lights on the monitors were turning amber as his stress levels heightened. “We’ll never get out. We’re trapped here, and it’s going to come for us one by one until there’s nobody left. Nobody! There’s no way out.”
“It won’t come to that,” Vance assured him, glancing at Coniff for help.
“I shot it. I shot it point-blank in the face. It didn’t even notice.”
“Yes it did. I’ve reviewed your recording. It was trying to get out of the way.”
Ravi laughed, a nasty high-pitched snarling sound. “Get out of the way! That’s it? That’s all? Those were hollow-point nine-millimeter rounds. And it didn’t
like
them?”
“Doctor,” Vance called.
Coniff was already standing, studying the monitor displays. Her e-i must have issued an instruction to the equipment, Ravi let out a long sigh and smiled lazily. “Oh right, yeah, that’s the answer to everyth …” His head lolled to one side and he was asleep.
“Is he going to be all right?” Vance asked the doctor.
“Providing treatment is maintained there’s no reason why not. I’m still concerned about his spine, but the damage to his back is healing nicely. There’s some residual shock from blood loss and hypothermia, but that is reducing now we’ve supplemented his fluids. He was lucky Angela recovered him when she did. A few more hours out there would have been fatal.”
“Thank you,” Vance said. He wondered if all the medical profession had such a gloomy outlook. Back in the door compartment he wrapped himself back up in his layers and his gloves before pulling the helmet down securely. The weather was worsening. Somewhere above the dark clouds lightning was flaring, its flashes appearing like incandescent fissures in the surging underbelly. He could hear their deep basso rumbles rattling off the canyon walls. The snow was thickening, flakes growing to half the size of his palm. And the wind that beset the canyon was steadily increasing, driving the flakes against the convoy vehicles.
Up on the talus, the last sledge was halfway down. Vance couldn’t even see the top anymore. His e-i called Ken. “How long until you can launch?” he asked.
“Fifteen minutes, Colonel. We’ve got the launcher set up. Running final checks now.”
“Is it going to be okay in this weather?”
“It should be, yes. But I’m still concerned we might not be able to maintain contact. Our meshes are so much junk, and that electrical storm brewing isn’t helping. But it’s the canyon walls that are the real problem. They’re going to block the beam for sure.”
“But Abellia will receive it, right?”
“Yes, sir, they should be able to. Providing their dishes are still operational.”
“Understood. Carry on.”
Ken had expressed his reservation about the comm rocket earlier, which was why Vance had composed a message for Vermekia and whoever was left at Abellia. It contained Ravi’s visual cache and an urgent plea for recovery. The monster’s disturbing communion with the bullwhips had come as a profound shock to Vance. Such power gave the thing an almost supernatural aspect. He wasn’t telling anyone, but he shared Ravi’s view that they’d never get through the jungle alive. Vermekia had to listen now, had to help them. Even he, consumed within his world of petty office politics, couldn’t keep ignoring the amount of proof Vance had compiled.
Vance walked the short distance across the circle of vehicles and climbed into biolab-1’s door compartment. There was more snow clinging to him this time than there had been in biolab-2. He shook it all off vigorously and went into the main cabin. Antrinell, Tamisha, and Roarke were inside, enjoying some coffee. Hot drinks were the one thing they didn’t have to ration yet. The three of them had been outside for hours, working hard to help bring the vehicles down the talus. Their lips were cracked and bruised looking, while they all had red-raw patches of skin on their faces where the cold had crept around their balaclavas and scarves.
Vance stripped off his outer layers, which were now slimed with slush, and sat at the little table that had folded out of the wall. Tamisha offered him a mug of coffee, which he accepted gratefully.
“I’ve been going through the fuel levels,” Antrinell began. “It will be tight assuming we stay on schedule from now on.”
“Yes,” Vance agreed.
“But I think we all know that schedule isn’t going to survive. Not with the creatures out there. And now we know the jungle can be activated against us. We’re not going to reach Sarvar. It’s that simple.”
“I didn’t expect that from you,” Vance said lightly. “Anyway, I’ve requested recovery and evacuation in my comm rocket message.”
“A message that may or may not get through.”
“We have three more rockets left after this launch.”
“I’m sorry, sir, but I don’t think you’re really taking into account what we’re up against. It’s clear now that the jungle is in some way reactive to an alien sentient. There is a force here that we have underestimated to a monumental degree.”
“Are you saying I should have done something different?” Vance asked. That Antrinell was calling him
sir
in front of others from the xenobiology team was a bad sign. They’d known each other too long for that kind of formality. He could understand people were scared, but this kind of defiance in an executive officer was unprecedented.
“We all have the same information, sir,” Tamisha said. “We came to the same conclusions. Based on them we agreed that the convoy was the right course of action. At the time.”
“And now you’re changing your mind? You maybe should have thought about that before we climbed down here to the canyon floor, because the sweet Lord knows we can’t get back up again now.”
“We’re not complaining about the convoy, nor its location,” Antrinell said. “What you need to take into account is our current situation.”
“You think I’m unaware of what’s going on? Are you serious?”
“Sir,” Roarke said tentatively. “It’s not about awareness, everybody knows what’s happening. It’s the implications we’re concerned about.”
“Vance, this is war,” Antrinell said. “I’m not sure you appreciate that. It’s been subtle and progressive, which is why we haven’t necessarily reacted as we should have done. Whatever it is that’s out there is intent on exterminating us. The planet is reacting to our presence; the trees themselves are trying to kill us. Personally, I now believe the sunspot outbreak is part of the conflict. There are clearly unknown powers at work here. Phenomenal powers, perhaps equal to those of the Zanth. And they are completely hostile to humans.”
“Yes. I’m not arguing any of this.”
“Then we should deploy the weapon we were given for precisely this situation.”
“Antrinell, I can’t authorize that. The zero metavirus is tailored to kill all life on St. Libra—anything that shares the native genetic molecule. That must surely include the guardian creature given the kind of relationship it has demonstrated it has with the flora. We can’t do it. You and I especially, we know the Lord would not permit such a crime.”
“If we don’t deploy the weapon, if we do nothing, St. Libra will win. We’re not going to make it to Sarvar, not with the creature and the jungle to contend with. We all accessed Ravi’s visual recording. Bullets don’t have the slightest effect on it. There is nothing else left to us. The metavirus will destroy this thing. It’s our only chance for survival. And if we don’t make it, who is going to warn the HDA and the trans-space worlds? The zero metavirus was created because we cannot face two alien threats, not simultaneously. And certainly not on the scale we have witnessed here. We have to eliminate this threat before it destroys us.”
Vance regarded his fellow officer and Gospel Warrior in utter dismay. It was incredible that someone who took the same vows, had the same views, could come to a decision that was completely opposite to his own. One thing Antrinell clearly didn’t recognize was the depth and conviction of Vance’s own belief in the Lord. It was everything to him, his basis for existing. He knew there had to be a purpose behind life and the universe. And only God could provide that. For God had created the universe, and that had to be for a reason. Vance never expected to know what it was—he fully understood he was too insignificant for that—he was content just to be a part of such a glorious existence. To live in a way his Lord would consider worthy. “No,” he said with finality. “And, you are not to raise this issue again. We are not going to launch the zero metavirus. I do not consider the hostility of one misguided guardian sufficient to justify genocide.”
“Genocide?” Antrinell shouted. “They’re plants!”
“If that were so, we wouldn’t be having this conversation.”
“You’re condemning us to death. Without the zero metavirus we’ll never get to Sarvar.”
“If it is meant to be, then the Lord will show us a way. Besides, I’m not at all confident the metavirus will work in this climate. The warheads can disperse it into the jetstreams, yes. But there’s nothing living for it to latch onto when it falls to the ground. This temperature will kill it as surely as fire. It might take longer but the outcome will be the same. There will be no exponential growth, no contagion.”
“All right. But, you’re forgetting, there’s one St. Libra life-form that’s still very much alive and active,” Antrinell urged. “We might not get the planet’s jungles, but we can take down the bastard that’s murdering us. Come on, you have to let us try. We have a right to life, too.”
Vance considered the idea. He turned to Tamisha. “Is it possible to build a localized dispenser, a gun or spray we can use against the creature?”
“I don’t see why not,” she said thoughtfully. “I should be able to design something that’ll fit into our hollow-point rounds. We’ve got a couple of micro-precision printers here in the lab for spares production, they should be adequate.”
“Start working on it. I’ll consider deactivating a warhead and extracting the metavirus for you to redeploy.”
“Yes, sir.”
“If”—he held up a cautionary finger to Antrinell—“this system can be made to work, then I will be the one who carries the pistol.”
“It doesn’t matter who fires the shot, just that it hits the target.”
“Good.” Vance drained his coffee. “I have a comm rocket launch to attend. We’re finished here now. The subject is closed.”
W
EDNESDAY,
M
AY 8, 2143
Angela’s e-i said it was eight-forty-two in the morning. Red Sirius had risen nearly two hours ago. Apart from the purple clock figures on the edge of her iris smartcell grid she wouldn’t have known that. A blizzard was sweeping along the canyon. Confined and compressed by the towering rock walls, the wind and snow were roaring against Tropic-2’s bodywork, making them shake every inch of the way as they crawled forward. Tropic-1 was ten meters ahead, its rear lights barely visible through the driving snow. According to the windshield display, its bodywork barely reflected a radar pulse. Apart from the lightning bolts searing overhead every few seconds, the canyon was a confined world of darkness. Their headlight beams dissolved into the snow a few meters ahead.
Forster, who was in the driving seat beside her, was steering them on net data alone, coordinating the position of the other vehicles and inertial navigation readouts. Somewhere up ahead, Elston was driving MTJ-1. Angela knew why he wanted to keep going, but frankly trying to carry on in these conditions was ridiculous bordering on foolhardy.
“We should stop,” Paresh said from the rear passenger seat. “We’re going to hit the canyon wall at this rate.”
“Then we bump and back off,” Angela said. “That’s got to be better than vanishing over a waterfall like I almost did.”
“Can’t afford the fuel for a stop,” Ken said. He’d been assigned the final seat in their Tropic after the comm rocket launch the previous evening, when Elston handed out their new travel assignments.
Angela didn’t comment on the fuel situation. She’d started to worry about the convoy getting anywhere close to the Zell tributary neighboring Sarvar, let alone the camp itself. Right up until she accessed Ravi’s visual log of his fight with the monster she’d been contemplating taking a Tropic with Rebka and heading back to Wukang like Karizma. But the bullwhips had now ruled that out. Then the comm rocket had launched amid a blast of flame and smoke, vanishing into the clouds and snow within a second. Ken had lost contact with it after thirty seconds. The final burst of data the convoy’s net received before it vanished behind the canyon wall had revealed how thick and dense and chaotic the cloud strata were above the canyon. Not heavy enough to damage the rocket, Ken claimed; it would be able to complete its ballistic arc above the atmosphere. But now they didn’t know if the messages had been received at Abellia or not. All they could do was hope that if the signal had gotten through then the images Ravi had captured were enough to kick HDA into launching a rescue mission, or at the very least a supply drop.