Warblegrub and the Forbidden Planet (6 page)

His eyes flashed fiery red and he stormed off leaving 395 standing there, dumb-struck. When he recovered his composure a little, he followed Warblegrub upstream, keeping his distance. Stumbling over the steep, rocky ground, he was soon exhausted and sighed with relief when they finally stopped to rest. He sank to the ground with his back against a boulder but Warblegrub remained standing, listening intently. Straining his ears, 395 heard a familiar voice.

“…I read the small print very carefully and there was nothing in my contract about fire-breathing dragons!”

He leapt up, hurried past Warblegrub and found Alex sitting beside a pool, bathing her feet. She cried out with relief when she saw 395 but when Warblegrub appeared, she drew her sidearm.

“No point,” 395 reminded her.

“Those things won’t do you any good you know,” Warblegrub added as she holstered the weapon. “Come on you two troublemakers,” he said brightly and continued up the hillside.

Trailing behind, they were unable to ask him any of their burning questions and Warblegrub began to hum to himself in a satisfied tone. When they were almost at the rock tower, their com-links crackled back into life. The Colonel was summoning the scattered company, but he sounded groggy, as if he had only just woken from a deep sleep.

Warblegrub watched the reunion with great interest. The Colonel was clearly relieved by the return of the Science Officer, and he guessed 395 had a vital role in their mission. 395 himself was particularly glad to find Private 585 and Sarah among the living, but Alex was distraught that none of the flight crew had survived and her sorrow racked his heart.

Having seen what he needed, he emerged from the scrub. The soldiers immediately raised their weapons but the Colonel ordered them to stand down.

“Seems there’s more to you than meets the eye!” he admitted.

“I’m really hoping I can say the same of you,” Warblegrub replied.

Most of the company backed away at his approach but the Colonel remained where he was with 395 and Alex at his side. Warblegrub stood before him and studied his reflection in the sunglasses.

The Colonel smiled thinly. “What do you want now?”

“For you to give up your quest.”

“And I suppose you’ll forget all about this unfortunate little
incident?
”

“No, but I’ll see that your lives are spared.”

The Colonel was greatly intrigued. “On what authority do you make this
generous
offer?”

“On what authority do you ask such impertinent questions?”

The Colonel’s laughter was brief and mirthless. He turned to the others. “He says he’ll spare our lives if we give up our mission.”

They looked up, puzzled.

“Seriously,” the Colonel insisted, “I will release you from your duty. Seek his protection if you want.”

As one, they all rose, saluted and immediately returned to their tasks.

“I believe you have your answer,” said the Colonel smugly.

“Very well,” Warblegrub conceded, his heart sinking, “but let me give you some advice.”

“Feel free.”

“I do! And if I were you, I wouldn’t use guns again, for any reason!”

“Why not?”

“Because Fardelbear really doesn’t like them.”

“Anything else?”

Warblegrub nodded. “I’ll stay with you for a while but without your people pointing guns at me. I’ll keep you safe until you’ve had time to consider my offer.”

The Colonel shrugged. “Then we’ll appreciate the protection but you won’t change anyone’s mind, so please don’t try!”

Due to Fardelbear’s tendency to inflict massive and fatal injuries, there were only a few minor factures, burns and lacerations for Private 856 – the surviving company medic – to deal with, and he had Warblegrub to help him. With Warblegrub healing by the mere laying on of his hands, they soon had the whole company on their feet again and, as they gathered up their scattered packs, weapons and equipment, the soldiers regarded Warblegrub with even greater wonder.

395 pondered the warning as they headed south. Despite Warblegrub’s strange appearance, and even stranger manner, he felt certain his advice should be heeded. Looking down at the rifle in his hands, he remembered that the punishment for throwing his weapon away was death by firing squad.

As the company hacked its way through dense forest, Warblegrub studied their faces, still pale with shock. Haunted eyes darted fearfully from shadow to shadow, in spite of his assurances there was no immediate danger. And yet, bound by oaths to their doom, they headed relentlessly on into the unknown. Warblegrub noticed Alex’s dirty cheeks were streaked with tears and, more than any of the others, she carried her dead with her, like a necklace of corpses. He wondered what she was prepared to do in pursuit of their quest.

“Truly the strangest creatures the Universe ever gave birth to!” he muttered under his breath.

“And you?” asked 395, overhearing him, “are you an immortal being?”

“Immortal?”
Warblegrub mulled the word over. “I don’t know yet!”

“Are you in charge here?”

“‘In charge’!”
Warblegrub rolled his eyes. “Why must there always be someone
‘in charge’?
”

He was spared further questions by the sight of Sergeant 236, who had gone ahead to find a path and was now waiting for them. Leaning against a tree, she was exhausted and the rest of her detail were in a sorrier state.

“It’s going to take days to cut though this undergrowth!” she warned.

While the company rested, 395 sat with his back to a tree trunk at the top of a slope. Just beneath his feet, a spring emerged among the roots and boulders and tumbled down into the valley, and it occurred to him that waterways would provide them with the easiest paths through this rugged land. Checking the map, he saw that the local river system flowed south for almost half the remaining distance and when he moved away from the others, he could hear that the valley was alive with the sound of tumbling streams.

“Do you like it?” asked Warblegrub, following him.

“Like what?”

“The planet!”

395 smiled and his eyes lit up. “I’d never imagined it would be so beautiful!”

“This region certainly is but much of it’s still lifeless.” Warblegrub sighed. “You lot made a real dog’s breakfast of the place!”

“Judging by the nuts and berries,” said 395, changing the subject, “I’d say it’s early autumn.”

“We’re in a subtropical zone,” Warblegrub confirmed, “one of my favourites!”

The Colonel joined them before 395 could question him further. “What’s he on about now, S.O.?”

“I was questioning him about the planet, Sir.”

“And have you learnt anything useful?”

The Colonel’s tone irritated 395. “We need to follow the river, Sir,” he replied curtly. “It’ll be easier than hacking through this undergrowth.”

“Good thinking,” the Colonel approved and moved on.

“Is he a friend of yours?” asked Warblegrub as they watched the Colonel rouse the others.

395 frowned but said nothing and Warblegrub smiled to himself.

Chapter Eight

To Warblegrub’s delight, others among the company were beginning to share the Science Officer’s interest in the natural world. Far from being as still and silent as it had appeared form the ridge, the valley was teeming with life, and as they followed a shallow stream south through a winding gorge, they saw shoals of tiny fish darting from their feet. Overhead birds flitted through the shafts of sunlight, reptiles and rodents scurried through the undergrowth, and the continuous drone of insects was all-pervading.

“What are you doing?” Warblegrub asked when 395 held up yet another electronic device.

“Recording the bird song,” he replied. “I can identify different species from the database.”

“That’s nice.”

“Glad you approve!”

At a narrow point in the gorge, a fallen tree smothered in ivy spanned the stream. A pair of long-tailed birds with bright yellow breasts took flight at their approach. Alex was especially enchanted and watched intently as they flitted on ahead, exchanging short, sharp calls. Perching on rocks in the stream, they bobbed up and down as if urging the soldiers to follow.

“They’re wagtails,” 395 informed her.

“Suits them!”

Before they had all clambered over the fallen tree, a ghastly shriek rang out, startling the company and putting the wagtails to flight. The soldiers crouched low, their weapons trained in every direction but when the cry rang out again, 395 quickly identified it.

“
Garrulus glandarius:
a jay. Feeds mostly on acorns….”

“Good work, S.O.,” the Colonel interrupted, “but spare us the ornithology lecture; we don’t need to know
every
species on the planet.”

“Yes Colonel, you do!” Warblegrub spoke sternly. “Ignorance has always been your species’ greatest weakness.”

He waded on a little way, oblivious to the water drenching his trousers, and when the jay next cried out he answered it with a like voice, and in a tone that silenced the bird. A pale, dull pink with bold black-and-white markings, it flew off with a flash of bright blue from tiny bars of colour on its wings.

“Beautiful bird,” said Sarah, “terrible voice!”

A kilometre or so further on, the stream joined a river with a wide marshy bank, which they waded through for another half a kilometre till they reached a series of waterfalls. Beyond these, the land opened out into a broad valley but it was difficult to make out any features through the haze. While the rest of the company scrambled down the rocks and boulders beside the falls, the Colonel peered through his binoculars then called 395 to his side. Unbidden, Warblegrub joined them. Through his visor, 395 followed the meandering course of the river until, at the very edge of sight, he saw several tall pillars beyond a line of low hills – the skyscrapers of the deserted city.

“Not far now!” The Colonel sounded confident.

“Further than you think!” muttered Warblegrub.

A little way on from the falls, they came to a cluster of buildings; a roofless farmhouse, barn and outhouses, all but hidden in the undergrowth. The company rested among rusting machinery in the courtyard while 395, Sergeant 236, the Colonel and Warblegrub consulted the map on the tablet.

“The river looks impassable ahead,” warned 395.

“There’re rapids and a very deep gorge,” Warblegrub confirmed.

“Then the most direct route takes us over these ridges and hills,” said the Colonel.

“More machete work!” groaned the Sergeant.

395 enlarged a strange, crescent-shaped feature that crossed their path, a long trench in the earth. “This must be man-made,” he said as he showed it to Warblegrub.

“It’s a road; there’s a tunnel through the hill leading to the city.”

“Is it passable?”

“The tunnel?” Warblegrub shook his head. “It’s blocked near the far end. You’ll have to climb the hill.”

“Then let’s not waste any more time!” said the Sergeant, unsheathing her machete.

Fender to fender, cars, vans, coaches and lorries stood rusting among the weeds. Strong winds drove the clouds overhead and their racing shadows only emphasised the stillness, just as the occasional birdsong emphasised the silence.

“Longest traffic-jam in history,” observed 395 wryly, but only Warblegrub laughed.

Having cut their way down to the road, they found a relatively easy path over the tops of the abandoned vehicles but raised thunder with their heavy boots.

“Do you remember, Colonel?” yelled Warblegrub above the din. “Billions of cars and lorries pumping filth into the atmosphere!”

“I was a baby when we were evicted,” he growled, and marched on.

Warblegrub stopped and looked at the faces of the soldiers passing by and realised most had never heard the true reason for their exile. He hurried after the Colonel. “So even now you lie to your people?”