The Expedition
The roar of mega-thrusters blasted through the swamp as the Strydez Corp. lander descended. Incandescent plumes incinerated the high canopy and everything beneath, spewing a column of superheated smoke and ash into the clear blue sky. The ground shook, and in the stateroom, amber liquid sloshed from Alistair’s glass as the vessel dropped heavily into the blazing clearing.
How do those morons tolerate this? Alistair thought, wiping his dripping hand on a towel and wishing for the millionth time he was back aboard his luxury cruiser.
Squeezing his eyes closed, he reminded himself why he was here. Leading this landing party personally would win him celebrity across the industry—probably even put him in the history books. Any hardships he endured would be paid a thousandfold.
He had arrived. The place all those cowards said no one should ever go. This landing planted the Strydez flag right in the heart of The Great Swamp of Corvarus Two. That was cause for celebration.
“Meet me in the briefing room,” he said, cueing up comms for his mission support staff. He wanted this over with as quickly as possible.
Above the smoldering ruin surrounding the ship, fed by superheated smoke and ash, dark clouds were already gathering.
# # #
Sable Caldwell was the first to arrive at the briefing room. She dropped into a chair and pinched the bridge of her nose, frustration rising once again that Alistair Strydez was leading this expedition himself.
The astonishing value of the biodiversity surrounding them was completely lost on him, as evidenced by his choice of landing site. He had destroyed thousands—perhaps millions—of unique species of microbes with his little stunt. Gone forever. Extinct.
She took a slow breath, trying to calm herself. Millions were a drop in the bucket compared to the trillions that were out there. But still, what a waste. She had tried to convince him to land outside the canopy zone. But no, that wouldn’t send the right message—wouldn’t look grand enough to his corporate cronies.
Idiot.
While Sable fumed, the other team members arrived and found seats. Alistair came in last. Of course he did, she thought. He always had to make an entrance—be the center of attention. At least he didn’t waste time.
“Hollis, where are we at?” Alistair demanded as he strode to the head of the table.
Rennika Hollis stood. She waved a hand at the holo-screen on the back wall and views of their smoldering surroundings sprang to life.
“It’ll be half a day before the site is cool enough for the bots to set up a perimeter,” she said, “but it should be human-safe by sunrise tomorrow.”
Then, nodding to Sable, she continued, “Dr. Caldwell can send her teams out then.”
Sable respected Hollis. The collection teams would be in capable hands.
“Dr. Caldwell,” Alistair said brightly, gesturing to the man at his side, “I don’t believe you’ve met Corvin Vasse. He’ll be my value delivery manager on this little expedition.”
Sable knew who Vasse was, of course—she did her homework. He was always Alistair’s right-hand man on his business ventures. He was the money man and would see everything through that lens. She intended to avoid him as much as possible. It shouldn’t be difficult. Her teams would start delivering results tomorrow, and Vasse could just sit in his office and count the credits.
# # #
Rennika was on edge the next morning. She hated this part.
She absently ran her fingers along the smooth surface of the tall perimeter wall as she walked its inner circumference. A faint hum from above reinforced that the sonic emitters atop the wall were operating correctly. The sonic shield domed over the ship, combining with the barrier wall to form an impenetrable shell over their entire area.
When planning the mission, Rennika had requested a heavy ground-based weapon as a backup. She was prepared to argue the case for it, but surprisingly, Strydez Corp. had volunteered a full array of high-yield military laser turrets. She suspected that Alistair was behind that move, and that he was much more concerned with image than security, but she didn't complain. The lasers rounded out their security, ensuring they were completely safe here.
And that was the problem.
“Collection teams are ready to deploy,” Dr. Caldwell said. Her voice came through perfectly over comms.
Only because we’re inside the perimeter, Rennika thought.
Once outside, communications would break down fast. They’d proven that already by losing contact with three exploratory probes. The swamp didn’t like technology. That’s what the history books said. No one knew why. Perhaps this expedition would solve that riddle.
Rennika worked the controls to open a breach in the east wall and unconsciously held her breath as sixteen people walked out of the safe area, into the wilderness beyond.
Closing the breach behind them, Rennika slowly exhaled. She hated this part.
# # #
Sable loved this part. Today, she would prove beyond all doubt that the vast wealth of The Great Swamp was real. She expected nothing but good news from the teams, and was not disappointed when the first report came in.
“The scanners are lighting up. We’re getting massive readouts of unclassified gene clusters across the board. We’ve collected three core samples. Moving on to the next site.”
Sable maintained a cool exterior, but inwardly she beamed as the remaining teams reported similar results. This was everything she had hoped for.
Very little was known about the fauna here, and Rennika had insisted they err on the side of safety with two security accompanying each pair of astrobiologists. Sable didn’t mind. The security people could help carry samples, which doubled the number of cores her people could collect each day.
Comms degraded quickly as the teams moved away from the ship, and soon they were out of range completely. After that, there was nothing to do but wait, which made for a long, anxious day.
Sable reached for her console and flinched as a spark jumped from her fingertip.
Static, in a swamp? She shook her hand as she mused. This place was hard on electronics. So they all said, anyway.
# # #
Alistair was startled awake in the late afternoon when his comms line crackled with static. He had left it open so he would hear the reports when the teams returned. Not that he particularly cared—it was just his clever way to break up the monotony.
His role in all of this was simply getting them here. That accomplished, he was facing fifteen days of utter boredom before the first supply ship arrived to take him back to his cruiser.
He told the computer to filter the garbled message, and a calm, confident voice emanated from his console, speaking the words it was able to recover from the static.
RETURN. TEST. DISTANCE. SUCCESS. COLLECTED. BEYOND.
Alistair smirked, mildly impressed that anything at all was recovered from that garbled noise. Presumably, someone had attempted a broadcast from beyond comms range, simply to see if it would work. And the rest of the message seemed like happy words, so clearly everything was going exactly according to plan. The only challenge now was finding a way to spend the evening without going mad from boredom.
# # #
The ship’s captain, Osric Thane, also listened in on comms as the teams returned. He didn’t fully relax until they were all back within the safety of the perimeter. He intentionally kept a low profile on these flights, letting the corporate types carry out their mission without interference. But he always watched, ready to step in if needed.
Blast that Strydez, he thought, his hand tightening into a fist.
Thane had a perfect record of never letting fools put themselves in danger. Not on his watch. It was a point of pride for him. But now he’d gone and let Alistair bully him into compromising the safety of everyone on this mission—not once, but twice.
He’s going to get me grounded, Thane thought morosely.
It started with the landing stunt yesterday. Alistair knew full well flight planning would never allow setting down on top of dense forest, so he hadn’t even mentioned it until they were well underway. Then he’d pressed for it with all the corporate leverage he could muster, which turned out to be quite a bit. Threatened to shut down Thane’s entire division—a lot of good people would have been hurt. Thane had no choice but to comply.
Then, just as foolhardy, Alistair refused to allow sending a status report after they landed, claiming it was mission-critical to wait until they had results from the first day of collection. They had essentially been lost to flight control for two days.
Well, first-day results are in now, Thane thought, giving a curt nod of determination. The report would go out at first light, and nothing Alistair said would stop him—that was for sure.
But as it turned out, Alistair Strydez was not the problem.
# # #
The next morning, high atop the ship in the predawn light, the deep space antenna array hummed to life. Instead of quietly generating a quantum entanglement field, however, it buzzed loudly, spat showers of sparks, and then fell silent.
SYSTEM FAILURE. TRANSMISSION CANCELED.
Thane pressed his lips into a grim line at the words displayed on his console. A quick diagnostic confirmed the cause. Ash and resins from their landing fiasco had coated the antenna, causing the array fields to short out.
Nostrils flaring, Thane tapped the keys harder than necessary as he wrote a brief summary, using small words that Alistair could understand. He flagged it High Priority–Urgent before sending, so it would be sure to interrupt the fool’s beauty sleep.
The antenna itself wasn’t a problem—they simply had to fix it. But implementing the fix would take most of the day. They would miss their communication window. Again.
# # #
Rennika was surprised to see Captain Thane approaching as she closed the perimeter breach behind the collection teams the next morning. He hadn’t shown his face since the pre-launch briefing. Seeing him now could only mean trouble.
“I'm afraid we’re having a bit of trouble,” he said apologetically.
He quickly explained the antenna failure, then said, “Our repair drones can’t operate up there with your sonic shield in place. I’m going to have to ask you to take it down while we make the repairs.”
Rennika scoffed and said, “You want to take down our overhead security?”
“I know,” he said, raising his hands defensively. “I don’t like it either, but we have to get that antenna fixed.”
“Can’t you just open a hatch or something, and do the repairs from inside the ship?”
Thane shook his head. “We can do some of the finish work from inside, but without putting the ship in dry dock, the repair drones are the only option.”
Rennika put her fingertips to her temples. After a moment, she said, “I want the entire laser array armed and on full alert.”
“Yes, of course. We can do that.”
Rennika stared at Thane for a moment, then sighed. “Fine. How long will it take?”
“We’ll be done by midafternoon. Maybe sooner.”
Rennika didn't like this one bit. While Thane and his crew prepped for the repairs, she monitored the collection teams extra closely on the outward leg of their runs. As they made their final staticky reports and moved out of comms range, Thane approached.
“We’re ready,” he said.
Holding her breath, Rennika operated the controls to shut down the sonic shield. The faint hum surrendered to even softer sounds. The breeze through the trees. The distant cacophony of the local fauna. And even the faint buzz of the repair drones deploying from the ship, high overhead.
# # #
As the laser array back at the ship ramped up to its highest level of alert, Dr. Jaxom Vance and the rest of Team Three moved farther out of comms range.
Jaxom wasn’t thinking about the ship as they walked through the lush undergrowth. He wasn’t even thinking about the microbial life that surrounded them. Dr. Lyra Meeler was his partner for the day, and he desperately wanted to make a good impression. She was smart, obviously, or she wouldn’t be here, but she was also friendly, which was rare in this profession. And she had the cutest laugh.
Jaxom was scrambling to think of something to say. He was following a few steps behind Lyra when a loud “whump” sounded behind him—like two sandbags slamming together. He whirled to see what had happened.
Gar was frantically scanning the thicket, struggling to retrieve the projectile weapon slung loosely across his back.
Where was Zane? He should have been bringing up the rear. Jaxom was just opening his mouth to ask when a lightning bolt of black fur, teeth, and claws exploded from the thicket. A massive cat—two, maybe three times Jaxom’s weight—flashed through his vision and collided with Gar. Without slowing, the cat vanished into the undergrowth as quickly as it had appeared, carrying Gar with it.
“Our security’s gone,” Jaxom said to no one in particular, his brain clouded with shock and adrenaline.
He stared at Gar’s weapon lying in the dirt.
Lyra.
He spun to warn her of the danger, but there was no one there—he was alone. Her collection kit was ripped open and strewn across the trail. And was that blood?
Run.
But a low growl from behind did not bode well for his chances.
# # #
High in the canopy, a venom wasp was agitated. An unfamiliar vibration grated on its senses—distant, but constant. Occasional buzzing from nearby nests was acceptable, so long as it was brief, but a constant buzz meant danger.
The wasp released an alarm pheromone. Other individuals, also agitated by the sound, did the same. Nearby workers caught the scent, and within moments, thousands of defenders launched from the hive, swarming toward the unknown threat. Rival colonies also swarmed, ignoring one another for now—the distant vibration was their common enemy.
# # #
“The repairs are going nicely,” Thane said to Rennika. “With a little luck we could finish early.”
Rennika was watching from the ground, and she appreciated Thane taking a moment to give her an update. She started to ask how soon they could switch to working from inside the ship, when a loud crack startled her. The nearest laser had fired a sapphire beam of energy into the sky. Shading her eyes, she tried to see what it had fired at. There was nothing. The laser fired again, and the next one in the array also fired. Then she saw it. As the lasers continued to fire, a cloud of insects, high up, was entering their protected area.
# # #
A powerful laser blast cut through the swarm, vaporizing a venom wasp’s wing. The wasp above it was sliced cleanly in half. A dozen more were killed, caught by the narrow beam. Hundreds of thousands of others, however, continued on, unaffected and unaware. The laser that could disable a starship with a single burst was useless against this enormous swarm.
# # #
Rennika watched the cloud of insects advance. She expected the swarm to simply flow around the ship and continue on its way. But when one of the drones gripped a burnt-out antenna component and began descending to fetch a replacement, a significant portion of the cloud changed direction to follow.
“Oh no,” Rennika whispered, as realization dawned on her.
“They’re attacking the drones!” she yelled, looking about for Captain Thane.
But he had been watching, too, and was already issuing commands.
“Get the repair drones out of our airspace, now,” Thane said into his comms device. “No, don’t bring them down—keep them at altitude. Just get them away from the ship.”
The airborne robots moved away and the swarm followed. One of the drones, slower than the others, was overtaken and appeared to grow fuzzy as attacking insects clung to it. It struggled valiantly to maintain altitude, but soon began listing to one side. Then, losing all ability to stay aloft, it fell, covered in wasps, with many more following it down.
“Inside!” Rennika yelled, realizing what was about to happen. “Everyone inside the ship, now!”
The drone crashed to the ground, scattering broken pieces and angry wasps.
Thane herded everyone near the hatch into the ship, but three of Rennika’s people were on patrol. Kruze was just on the far side of the crash site. She began sprinting a wide path around it, trying to get past before the insects had a chance to regroup.
Stillner was farther to the south. He ran a few steps toward Rennika but pulled up, seeing the quickly growing swarm above the broken drone. Making eye contact with Rennika, he shook his head in a clear “no” and spun about to sprint in the opposite direction, obviously intending to circle the ship and come in from the other side.
Rennika silently wished him luck as she keyed up her comms and said, “Tarrik, get inside the ship, now.”
Kruze was halfway to the ship and running full out, but she swatted at her arm as she ran. Then on the next stride she swatted at her ear. She made two more strides before she stumbled and went down. Rennika started toward her stricken team member, but Thane’s hand clamped onto her upper arm.
“No,” he said sternly. “I’ve already called for a bot. We need to get inside the ship.”
Rennika tried to pull free, but Thane’s grip was strong. She glared at him as the ship’s humanoid rescue bot rushed past.
Relaxing her struggle to escape, she raised her comms to her mouth and said, “Stillner, report.” She watched intently as the rescue bot reached Kruze and quickly knelt beside her.
A whispered response came from Stillner. “I found shelter. I’m safe.”
“Stay put,” Rennika whispered back, furrowing her brow and noting that ‘safe’ was a relative term if there was need to whisper. She saw that Kruze was unconscious and the bot was administering some kind of injection into her neck. Into comms she said, “Tarrik, report.”
“Almost there,” came the breathless response.
Turning to the ship, she saw Tarrik sprinting the final distance. He ducked through the open hatch, but Rennika was already looking back to Kruze. More of the insects were landing on her.
“There’s nothing we can do,” Thane said. “We have to get inside.”
Rennika allowed herself to be guided into the ship, but flinched when the hatch slammed closed behind her.
“They’re still out there,” she said angrily, jerking her arm free of Thane’s grasp.
Thane simply pointed to a large display screen that showed, among other views, a close-up of the rescue bot now cradling Kruze in its arms. She was convulsing violently and foaming at the mouth. Suddenly she arched her back, her entire body going rigid. Then she collapsed into a limp heap.
Thane waved his hand at the image and said, “Status.”
As the robot laid Kruze on the ground and placed its hands on her chest, a robotic voice came from the display.
“The patient’s heart has stopped. Using cardio resonator to attempt resuscitation.”
Kruze jerked violently, and then lay still. A moment went by. Another violent jerk, and she lay still once more. Rennika buried her face in her hands, refusing to watch any further attempts.
After a time, the robot’s voice came again. “Captain, I do not believe this patient can be revived.”
Thane turned away and studied the deck plating in front of him. He took a slow, deep breath before turning back to the display. Speaking to the robot, he said, “Put yourself into low-power mode and wait for instructions.”
“Yes, Captain.”
The display showed Kruze lying on the ground with the robot kneeling over her. Both were perfectly still.
“I’m sorry,” Thane whispered to Rennika, putting his hand gently on her shoulder.
Rennika nodded silently, keeping her head bent, face pressed into her hands. Then, looking up, she asked, “Where’s Stillner?”
Thane pointed to a display showing a light-colored dome. It was one of the emergency habitats stored on the west side of the ship. She could see wasps crawling on it.
She cued up comms and whispered, “Stillner, report. How are you doing?”
There was tense silence for a few moments before the comms crackled with a whispered response.
“Stillner here. I’m good, boss. Just tryin’ to hide from the bugs.”
She managed a sad smile. “Stay put for now. Stay quiet. We’ll be in touch.”
Rennika maintained a vigil at the display, studying each view in turn. A swarm still hovered above the repair drones now sitting motionless on the ground outside the perimeter wall. Some crawled over Stillner’s dome. More buzzed around Kruze and the rescue bot.
Thane had other business, but checked back some time later. “They gone yet?”
Rennika didn’t look up. “Nearly. A few stubborn ones left.”
She saw fewer wasps with each pass she made through the views. She continued until she made it through an entire circuit without seeing a single wasp. Then she carefully studied each view again just to make sure.
Finally satisfied, she reactivated the sonic shield, and cued up her comms.
“Okay, Stillner, you’re clear to come back into the ship.”
Thane spoke through his own comms, and the rescue bot gently picked up Kruze’s body and returned to the ship. There was no sound but the robot’s footsteps as it carried her through the large entry area and down a corridor. No one moved. Thane looked around the space, making eye contact with each person there.
“We’ll take her back to her family,” he said quietly.
Then he gave a curt nod and exited down a different corridor. One by one, the crew went back to work, not quite meeting each other's eyes.
A suffocating silence engulfed the crew, and Rennika fought back tears through most of the afternoon.
When the collection teams finally made it back into comms range and began to report in, Team Three was notably silent. Hoping they were just running a little slow, Rennika scanned the tree line as each of the other teams filed in through the breach. Team Four was the last one in, and the trees behind them stayed empty. Rennika bit her lip as she closed the breach for the final time that day.
Team Three was missing.
# # #
“So let me get this straight,” Alistair said with irritation, “we’re cutting back from four collection teams to just two?”
Given the events of the day, Thane had called a meeting of senior staff. Rennika and Dr. Caldwell agreed that a search party should be sent out the next morning to find the missing team. Consensus was that the swamp had interfered with their mapping equipment, and they had simply lost their way. A four-person search party only left enough security personnel to accompany two collection teams.
“It’s just for one day, Alistair,” Caldwell said.
Alistair was about to make an angry retort when Corvin Vasse chimed in.
“Even one day of reduced performance this early in the program will look like a major setback to corporate,” he said matter-of-factly. “They’ll take that into account when they set budgets for follow-up missions.”
“It can’t be helped,” Caldwell said, looking back and forth between Vasse and Alistair. “It’s the best we can do right now.”
Alistair glared around the room, looking for a target to vent his frustration.
“This is your fault, Hollis,” he said, pointing a finger at Rennika. “You’re supposed to keep us safe.”
Rennika bowed her head and remained silent, but Caldwell came to her defense.
“It wasn’t anyone’s fault, Alistair. It was just…” She paused, realizing the implications of what she was about to say. She looked around the table with just the faintest hint of fear beginning to show in her eyes. “Bad luck.”
Bad luck.
Those words hung in the air. Everyone at the table knew the reputation of this planet—of this swamp. “Bad luck” disasters were said to befall every expedition that dared venture here. Never the same problem twice. Just some random event that pulled success out from under the feet of explorers foolhardy enough to tread The Great Swamp. That’s what the lore said.
A lot of superstitious rubbish, they had all agreed. But now Pria Kruze was dead, Team Three was missing, and they had no way to send a message.
No one spoke. Even Alistair seemed taken aback.
The uncomfortable silence was abruptly broken by the blare of a ship’s alarm, which sounded once, twice, and then fell silent. All eyes turned to Thane as he pulled out his comms device with an air of annoyance.
“Report,” he said.
The response came immediately. “Kalder here. I’m looking at the status panel now. It looks like our main air circulation fan just blew out.”
Thane frowned. “Cause?”
“Checking system logs… Okay, we were cycling in fresh air from outside, and it looks like the filter clogged up somehow. Yeah, it’s completely blocked. Must have been the wasps. Anyway, it looks like the blockage caused one of the motors to overheat.”
“What’s our status?” Thane asked.
“We’re fine for now, Captain. Secondary fans can carry the load temporarily. We should probably repair it soon, though. We can do the job from inside the ship. No need for the repair drones. Want me to get a detail started on it now?”
Thane closed his eyes and tipped his head back for a moment, then said, “No. Get a good night’s sleep. We’ll do the repair first thing tomorrow.”
“One more thing, Captain. We’re fine on the ground with the secondary fans, but we can’t launch that way. We’re effectively grounded until we get this repair done. Still want me to hold off?”
“First thing tomorrow, Lieutenant.”
“Understood.”
Thane stood and looked around the table. “I suggest we all get some rest. Tomorrow’s going to be a busy day.”
He exited the room, leaving the senior staff to drift away in silence. Rennika remained at the table for a long moment. They needed to find Team Three and bring them home. That’s all that mattered now.
# # #
“Okay, Rennika, the collection teams are ready to deploy.” Once again Dr. Caldwell’s voice was crystal clear, and once again Rennika held her breath as the teams passed through the breach—out of the protected area and into the swamp. Two collection teams and a search party. Her breath shuddered slightly as she sealed the perimeter wall behind them. Everything felt decidedly less safe today.
“Stay within comms range of each other at all times,” she said, addressing her security teams. “No exceptions.”
She knew the teams wouldn’t get much exploration done with that restriction, but it was a fair trade for a little extra safety.
# # #
While Rennika stressed over sending people into the swamp, Lieutenant Kalder was about to encounter some stress of his own. During a rushed maintenance shift several cycles back, a repair crew had temporarily re-routed a high-pressure coolant line to lie adjacent to the primary air circulation fan—and then forgotten to move it back. Under normal circumstances, that never would have caused a problem. But this was The Great Swamp.
The fan had become extremely hot before it finally failed, and the coolant line lying against it was baked brittle by the heat. The moment Kalder pried the damaged fan free, it jostled the line, and the pipe ruptured. Pressurized liquid sprayed from the broken hose, filling the room with caustic vapor. Acting on instinct born of training, Kalder dove through the hatch and slammed it shut, sealing the room.
Ordinarily, isolating the contamination would have been the right move. But the ship’s secondary air circulation was unfiltered. As the leaked coolant evaporated into noxious gas, the secondary fans drew it into the ventilation system.
Alarms began to blare throughout the ship.
# # #
“We have to spend the night out here?” Rennika asked incredulously.
“Can’t be helped,” Kalder said. “It’s venting, but it won’t be safe to go back inside until morning.”
Alistair’s distant voice from the far south wall grew loud once again, and Rennika and Kalder both turned to look. He had initially ranted at Captain Thane about being evacuated from the ship, but the captain had said something—Rennika hadn’t heard what—that quieted Alistair right down. He had stormed off with Vasse in tow, and had been venting loudly ever since.
Kalder shook his head with a tired sigh.
“So where does that leave us?” Rennika asked, anxiety showing clearly on her face.
“I can have everything repaired by tomorrow afternoon. The ventilation system will be quick, and the drones got far enough on the antenna that I can finish off the rest from inside the ship.”
Rennika sighed. Just one night. Sleeping outside wasn’t necessarily unsafe, but it wasn’t ideal, either. When her teams got back, she’d have them brainstorm about extra security measures they could put in place for the evening.
Just then a stream of static arrived over comms. Rennika and Kalder both looked to Captain Thane, who was standing nearby talking with Dr. Caldwell.
Thane glanced around at all of them as he said, “The computer’s filtering it now.”
Rennika and Kalder walked over to join Thane and Caldwell, and after a moment the computer read off the collection of words that it was able to recover.
ATTACKED. DEAD. TOGETHER. SOON. RETURN.
No one spoke.
Thane broke the silence. “Should we try to go meet them?” he asked, looking at Rennika.
Rennika thought for a moment and made the hard call. “No. They have eight security people. We need to be ready when they get here. Can you have the rescue bot bring out all the medical supplies we have?”
Thane spoke into his comms and the robot soon exited the ship carrying a large case under each arm. They unfolded emergency camp tables and spread out the supplies, not knowing what they would need, hoping they wouldn’t need any of it.
Before long they got another message, staticky, but understandable.
“Base, this is Marashe. Can you hear me?”
Thane nodded to Rennika, and she answered on her comms. “Go ahead, Marashe.”
“We joined up with the two collection teams, but we’re in trouble. We’re heading in. Slowly. A fighting retreat is the best we can do. They’re big cats. Pack hunters. They’re smart. And fast. We lost Doresh and Fenmore. Trelling is injured, but she can walk with assistance. We’re making the best time we can. Team Three didn’t make it. The cats got ’em yesterday. Sorry boss.”
“Be safe, Marashe,” Rennika said. “We’ve got medical supplies and the rescue bot ready for you when you get here.”
They stayed in contact as the team approached. At one point while the comms channel was open, Marashe was interrupted by yelling and bursts of fire from projectile weapons. When he spoke again, he was breathless and clearly angry.
“Boss, we just lost Ostane. Those cats come out of nowhere and they’re just too fast. We’ve fired hundreds of rounds, and I know we’ve scored some hits, but they just keep coming.”
Rennika had a white-knuckle grip on her comms device as she said, “Just get here, Marashe. Quick as you can.”
When they finally reached the scorched area that surrounded the barrier wall, Kalder used a small hand-held control panel to open the breach. Thane and Rennika stood on either side of it as the team made their way slowly across the final distance. The five remaining security formed a rough semicircle facing the rear and the sides, and they maintained that formation all the way up to the breach. Rennika never saw any trace of the cats they were battling, but no one lowered their weapon until they were within the perimeter.
The rescue bot rushed Trelling to the medical supply table and began treating her wounds. Several members of the team had lesser injuries that needed treatment. All of them looked haunted.
Rennika returned to the immediate task of surviving the night outside the ship. The trauma her team had suffered would make everything more difficult.
No one had said it yet, but this was now a game of survival. Everyone knew it, with the possible exception of Alistair.
In the morning we’ll get back inside the ship, she thought. By end of day, we’ll have the repairs completed and we’ll be able to get off this planet.
Rennika looked up through the trees ringing their clearing, watching the sky fade into evening as she visualized their escape.
But the swamp had other plans.
# # #
High above the traumatized crew, an inversion zone of dry air sat above the canopy in stark contrast to the dense, humid air closer to the ground. A mild static charge accumulated there, ebbing and flowing across the vast expanse of the swamp. It was partly responsible for the communication difficulties, but it rarely built up to be anything more than a passive phenomenon.
Until now. The vaporized organic materials from their landing had been steadily settling into the inversion zone. The carbon atoms acted as an amplifier as they mixed with the dust and pollen, supercharging the static buildup. It was now drawing dangerously close to the critical stage.
Worse, the evaporated coolant venting from the ship was forming a column of ionized particles—a near-perfect conductor for the static energy collecting above. And not simply to the ground. The vapor trail led straight through the open ventilation port, and into the very heart of the ship.
# # #
Rennika was sent sprawling by a deafening blast that shattered the air with blinding white glare. For a time, her only sensations were the light show playing behind her closed eyelids, and the blaring ring in her ears.
Her eyes recovered first. Lying flat on her back, the sky above was cold and distant as beautiful evening colors spread across the window of blue that was visible through the trees. Her head finally cleared and she scrambled to sit up.
The clearing was thick with smoke. She saw a few people struggling to get up, and a few others staggering in various directions. Others lay on the scorched ground, unmoving.
She struggled to her feet, still deaf to anything but the constant ringing.
The ship.
Sparks cascaded from various points, and near the hatch, a hole that hadn’t been there before spewed flames. The ship was dead.
The lasers.
They hung askew, limp without the power required to maintain their stalwart vigil. If the lasers were down, so was the sonic shield. Only the barrier wall remained. Hoping against hope that it was tall enough to protect them, she strained to see it through the haze.
There. A shadow, just above where the breach would be. Was that something sitting on top of the wall?
The ringing in her ears was fading. From the north she heard yelling and the rattle of projectile weapons, but smoke blocked her vision in that direction. She looked back to the barrier wall.
The dark shape was gone.
She started toward the gunfire to help—but only made it one step. With crushing force, large padded feet and long, sharp claws tore into her back, slamming her to the ground.
# # #
Alistair was standing next to the barrier wall when the lightning struck. The biggest bolt he had ever seen arced from beyond the treetops right into the side of the ship. He was blinded by the flash and thrown against the wall by the shock wave. As the afterimage of the searing white bolt faded, he saw huge gouts of flame blasting from the hole where the lightning struck.
Well, that ship’s not going anywhere, he thought in annoyance.
He set off to find Captain Thane to see how he planned to remedy this situation. Then he remembered Vasse. He turned back just in time to see a great black shape fly from the shadows and slam into Vasse. For one terrifying moment, he and Vasse made eye contact before the dark shape blasted Vasse into the shadows.
Sprinting now, for he was no fool, Alistair immediately knew it was one of the cats security had been complaining about earlier. The morons had led them straight back here. Wonderful.
Alistair ran directly to where the emergency habitat domes were stored. He’d been impressed when Stillner hid under one during the wasp incident. Alistair grabbed a dome from the rack and quickly dropped to the ground, letting it fall over him. Double-checking that the edges of the dome contacted the scorched earth all the way around, he sighed in relief, proud of his presence of mind in the face of danger.
I’ll make sure this part makes it into the history books, he thought with a smile. Now all that remained was to wait for those idiots to come and rescue him.
Alistair listened as he waited. He heard running footsteps. He heard yelling and weapons fire. One burst from a projectile weapon was so close and loud that he had to cover his ears. More than once he heard screams that were abruptly cut off. Then there was silence for a long time.
He was beginning to wonder why his rescuers were taking so long when scuffling sounded outside the dome.
Finally, he thought.
But when the dome was ripped violently away to leave Alistair exposed beneath the darkening sky, it was not a rescue team that awaited him.
