Hunting Dog Page 16

  To make matters worse, it looked like it was heading straight for the Thaiss Canyon. Millenia of water erosion had created a geological wonder that spanned almost a thousand miles and featured an abundance of sharp stone outcroppings.

  It was hard to imagine a more dangerous place to crash an aircraft.

  Chapter 22: Freed Dog…

  When my world finally stopped rolling, I was upside down. Branches from the trees we had crashed into were poking thru the cockpit door. This didn’t bode well for the pilots. The back end of the ship which had been torn open during our less-than-graceful descent was open to a cloud-filled sky.

  I carefully untangled myself from the restraining straps I had been holding on to. Rather than dropping to the ceiling-turned-floor, I reached for the hatch that led to the cockpit. I needed to make sure the pilots were not wounded and in need of help.

  One quick look confirmed my worse suspicions. The pilots had flown their last mission. I managed to grab a sidearm from one of the three dead men.

  I decided I should search as much of the rest of the ship as I could. Food, water, and, weapons were my primary objectives. I was pleased to find my helmet and one of my gauntlets. My guess was the other had joined either Sasa or her men and made an early exit from the ship.

  To be honest, I’ve never shed a tear over the demise of one of Eshbaal’s genetically modified Neanderthals, but I found myself regretting the demise of Sasa. Not because she looked like a well-endowed Amazon princess with unusually hard eyebrow ridges but because she had shown kindness and compassion. Those two qualities covered a host of sins in my book.

  My exploration of the ship also yielded an additional powerpack for my weapon, a serviceable rope and some brownish bricks that were sealed in a thin transparent wrapper.

  I couldn’t read neander-thug. The blocks could have been anything from some type of plastic explosive to the local version of military MREs… meals-ready-to-eat. Earth nutritional scientists had spent decades perfecting an MRE flavor profile that made soggy cardboard seem like a culinary delicacy. I could only imagine what a neander-thug version would taste like… if these little brown bricks were indeed food. I pocketed a couple of them just to be safe.

  My choices for exiting the craft were somewhat limited. I could crawl through the gore-filled cockpit and attempt to squirm my way through the shattered windows or I could climb out the sky-facing rear of the craft and hope with the rope I could make my way down. I opted for option two, as I had no desire to get neander-thug bits all over my armor.

  I made it to the top of the ship and hooked a leg over the side. This gave me a stable position from which I could scan the surrounding area. I was thankful that I had found my helmet. I magnified my view by a factor of twenty.

  I was in a dense forest. The ship was laying on top of the canopy. It seemed like the majority of my time on this planet had been spent on treetops.

  In the distance, I could see trees moving as if a large animal was shoving past them. The general direction of movement seemed to be towards me. My concern at this point was that I had suddenly become a dining option for some large carnivore indigenous to this planet.

  I didn’t have enough rope to make it to the ground without tying one end of the rope to a piece of hydraulic fluid pipe that was sticking out of the severed fuselage. The problem with this was that I would lose the rope once I reached the ground. I wanted to avoid this if at all possible.

  I solved the problem by looping the rope around the pipe and tying the loose ends together. I now used the shortened rope to repel down to the next place where I could loop the rope.

  I might add, at this point, that holding on to the side of a marginally stable troop transport, that was wedged in a treetop while simultaneously untying a rope then looping said rope around a damaged engine pylon… was an under-appreciated art that was mysteriously never taught in flight school.

  It took me about ten minutes to lower myself to a level where I felt comfortable to swing out on the rope and reach for a tree trunk. I quickly recovered my rope and beat a hasty retreat to the forest floor. My armor-enhanced hearing was now picking up my eager visitor. I was motivated by the sound to vacate the locale.

  I was incredibly thankful for my armor. It gave me speed and mobility I would not have had otherwise, especially given my broken femur. I used that advantage to move quickly through the underbrush. The smooth metallic skin of my suit didn’t catch on the various thorns and briars that I was traveling through in my effort to place some distance between myself and whatever it was that was making a bee-line for the crashed troop transport.

  Sadly, the same was not true about my left hand. The missing gauntlet also meant my hand was missing the protection the rest of my body was afforded. It didn’t take long for it to become woefully scratched up.

  I admit that it was a macabre thought, but I was hoping the smell of dead Neanderthal pilot would be enticing enough to distract the beastie that was approaching.

  I began to move into some thicker brush that was harder to travel through. I’d have moved into the treetops to move faster but the trees where little more than tall bushes in this part of the forest. To make matter’s worse, the thing that was pursuing me didn’t seem to be interested in dead neander-thug. I guess it liked its meat fresh.

  I wished I could find someplace where I could get a little higher and take a peek around. My armor normally would have used its sophisticated sensor suite give me a sense of the lay of the land. Unfortunately, though, that sensor suite was part of the forty percent that was DOA after my less-than-stellar space jump landing yesterday.

  My leg was aching, but I was reluctant to give myself a shot of joy juice because my HUD’s inventory display showed I was running low. I might well need my last few shots of pain relief at some later point in time.

  After crashing through a couple hundred feet of thorny vines and acquiring a persistent burning sensation in my left hand, I found a small bolder sticking up out of the ground. I used a power assist from my armor to jump on top of it.

  The view was only marginally better. I confirmed the whatchamacallit was continuing to move towards me. In fact, it would probably catch up with me in the next five to ten minutes. It seemed I would need to change the game a little if I was going to avoid a dinner engagement.

  I adjusted the magnification I was using. Off to the left, I could just make out a bit of a grey stone cliff face. If I could make it there in time, I might find a small cave or perhaps a way to climb.

  I began to make for the stone face as quickly as I could. The critter that was chasing me seemed to sense what I was doing and began to increase its speed as well.

  My exposed hand that had been burning was beginning to swell. My EMS noted my temperature was 100.2 and rising. Standard treatments were not working. I suspected I was either dealing with an environmental poison or some type of allergic reaction. In either case, it was a problem to be dealt with later.

  As I passed a small dried out creek bed, I noticed a bend in the old creek that had caused a few dried sticks and the occasional log to accumulate. I pointed my neander-thug weapon at the wood pile and pulled the trigger. An intense beam of laser light struck the woods, and within a few seconds, the pile was burning nicely.

  Most creatures had an instinctive fear of fire. I was hoping the same was true for the one that was chasing me. I passed several more piles of kindling and gave them the same ‘light’m up’ treatment. I felt bad about potentially starting a forest fire, but desperate times call for desperate measures. Besides, the sky looked like a downpour was imminent.

  I made it to the cliff wall. The stone face was composed of a crumbling shale. I grabbed a piece sticking out of the wall and attempted to pull myself up, but my handhold snapped off before I could even begin to put my weight onto it. Several more quick attempts confirmed that scaling the wall was not going to be an option.

  As far as caves go, I was not optimistic. I did find a section that offe
red a little indentation. Operating on the ‘any port in a storm’ premise, I backed into it and prepared to defend myself.

  My hand was completely numb now, and my temperature was approaching 103. If my friend out there didn’t get me first, there was a very real possibility that whatever I had been exposed to would get me. Some days it just doesn’t pay to get up.

  A few minutes later, I finally saw a piece of whatever the hell it was that was chasing me. It looked like a giant centipede… complete with very unpleasant looking mandibles.

  I fired at its head, striking it just below one of its antennae. It reared up in pain, and I shot its underbelly. It turns out giant alien centipedes can make quite a racket when they are hurt. Based on what I was hearing… this one was hurt.

  It turned and headed back into the bush. I shook my head. I was drenched in sweat. My fever was approaching 104, and I was having trouble thinking clearly.

  As the centipede turned and headed into the bush, I thought I saw a rider. I was beginning to lose control of my mind. I fired at the figment of my imagination, but my shot went wide as I collapsed.

  I tried to turn the cooling up in my armor, but the damaged system was already maxed out.

  With all the crazy stuff I had gone through in my life, this was not the way I thought I would go. To die alone… on an alien world… from what was essentially an alien poison ivy.

  I shook my head again. This was wrong. Thoughts of death was a quitter’s way of thinking. I was not giving up. I could not give up. I needed to focus on something to pull me through this.

  I tried to picture Lori in my mind. For some inane reason, all I could see was her wedding ring. I felt guilty that I couldn’t summon a vision of her. My heart ached, I loved her so much. The more I thought about it, the more I began to realize my heart really hurt.

  My EMS was telling me that it was working too hard. It was pumping too fast. I was going into tachycardia. It was hard to breathe. I took my helmet off.

  I closed my eyes. I just needed a moment's rest, and then I would be fine.

  I was having trouble focusing. I heard a noise in the bushes, followed by a voice. It sounded like a neander-thug. The voice was saying it was Sasa. I knew that to be a lie. I had seen her die. Whoever this was, they were trying to fool me. I was smarter than that.

  I fired in the general direction of the noise. I heard what I could only assume was swearing.

  I was having trouble focusing. I dropped the gun I was holding. It had gotten too heavy to hold. I heard the weapon skitter on the loose shale. It was an odd noise. It seemed at the same time I was having trouble seeing, my ears were working overtime.

  A couple of minutes passed, and I started to hear a popping sound coming from the bushes. It was familiar. I couldn’t place it... it seemed like I should have been able to but I could not. The popping sound continued. I lowered my head. I needed to sleep.

  2100.1289.8865 Galactic Normalized Time

  Marmoot watched as a Tigadoor made its way into the massive cave complex. Passive sensors and multiple video feeds documented its passage. The beast carried two passengers. One was well known to the Hasmoneans. The other was the stranger they had been looking for.

  Chapter 23: Sick Dog…

  “Dumb man. You kill self if not better thinking.”

  I opened my eyes. To be honest, I hadn’t remembered closing them. There were two things that struck me as immediately odd.

  First, there was a big woman kneeling next to me. And by big, I mean huge. Not stocky… just big. The woman’s name was on the tip of my tongue. She was a lieutenant… she was… Sasa. Her name was Sasa. She looked pretty good for a woman who should have been dead.

  The second thing that struck me as odd was the horrible taste in my mouth. It was both bitter and salty. I moved my tongue, and it brushed up against something. There seemed to be some type of plant matter in my gums like chewing tobacco. It tasted terrible.

  I quickly spit it out. It was a deep red like many of the plants on this world.

  This elicited a guttural bark of disgust from the lieutenant followed by a string of curses recognizable by their tone and inflection in any language.

  “You want die, dumb man? You want make Sasa angry. You no like Sasa angry. You no die. You die Sasa angry.”

  I certainly could not argue with that logic. To be sure, I felt like death warmed over. My fever was down, but I was pretty sure I was still running one. My head felt like it had been the guest of honor at a live-fire exercise without the benefit of earplugs.

  Sasa put a handful of some red grass in her mouth and began to chew it. The look on her face told me she found the taste as obnoxious as I did. I had no idea why she was eating it. Surely there were other food sources on this planet.

  After a few moments, she spit the macerated paste into her hand and leaned over me. She really was beautiful in a Neanderthal sort of way. I must have been very sick.

  Before I knew what was happening, the lieutenant grabbed my jaw with her hand and forced it open. She placed the paste under my gum. The intense look in her face told me I had best leave it there.

  When she leaned back, she had a smile on her face.

  “Thank you, ma’am. May I have another, ma’am?” I mumbled.

  Sasa raised an eyebrow.

  “You strange man,” was all she said.

  I watched her work on a small fire under a stone overhang. We seemed to be near the same shale cliff I had found earlier but at a different spot along its base. The ground that was not protected by the overhand looked to be wet. It was a good bet that it had rained while I was unconscious. That was good because as I recalled, I had been a little careless by starting a series of untended fires.

  Perhaps the oddest thing I saw was a giant red centipede-like creature sleeping about a hundred feet away. It was snoring lightly. I could see a burn mark just above one eye.

  Sasa must have seen me looking her ride.

  “You no shoot KayKa no more. Kayka friend.”

  “So,” I said slowly, “Were did you and KayKa meet?”

  Sasa looked at me for a moment before answering with her own question.

  “Riker, why you here?”

  There didn’t seem to be any point in trying to hide my intent, so I laid out my purpose in coming to her quaint little planet.

  “Your leader, Eshbaal, has destroyed many worlds and has attacked and enslaved my world. I’m looking for a way to stop him. It’s a matter of survival for my race.”

  Sasa stirred whatever something in a pot over the fire she had started earlier. When she was done, she moved the pot to a stone near the fire to keep warm.

  “You, me… we same. No different.”

  Sasa sat cross-legged on the ground next to me. She grabbed my left hand and turned it over. The swelling was gone, and it seemed as if my fever had disappeared with it.

  “You no need tuko root no more. You make gone.” She pretended to spit something out.

  I didn’t need to be told twice. I spit the foul stuff out as fast as I could. Sasa passed me a canteen made from some form of plastic. I took a swig of the warm water and spit that out too.

  “Why did you say we are no different? You work for the entity that we seek to defeat.”

  Sasa grabbed my hand again and once more turned it over. She put her open hand next to mine. Other than the size they were remarkably similar.

  “See, we same. Our befores born and eat and die under same sun. We same. You hate Eshbaal. We hate Eshbaal. We same.”

  I pulled my hand back. She looked a bit sad when I did it, but she said nothing.

  “Are you telling me your people would fight Eshbaal if given a chance?”

  Sasa shook her head. “Not all… some. Some like me, we join Thassi. Thassi smart. Sasa smart too. Sasa fix machines. Sasa make machines no die.”

  “So, you are an engineer?”

  “Engineer make machine no die?”

  “Yes,” I said.

  “S
asa Engineer,” the neander-thug said proudly.

  “The Thassi… where do they come from?

  “Thassi from here. Thassi no like Eshbaal.”

  Things were beginning to fall into place. The neander-thugs had a faction within their ranks that opposed Eshbaal. Apparently, there was another group, an indigenous population if I understood the lieutenant correctly, that also was part of the resistance.

  Things were being to look up. Earth and the Galactic Order of Planets may have found some new allies.

  ***

  The ride on the giant centipede which I learned was called a Tigadoor was surprisingly comfortable. The creature had a soft fur covering some type of articulated shell. The shell provided an easy place to grip and a saddle-like seat on which to ride. The hundreds of little legs meant there was no jarring up and down motion like a rider experiences on the four-legged animals of Earth.

  According to Sasa, we were almost at our destination. We were going to meet with local leaders of the Hasmonean resistance. They were part of the indigenous population… a race called the Thassi. The Thassi were a flightless an avian species with a keen intellect and dexterous talons that allowed them to be accomplished tool makers.

  We had been riding for the better part of five hours. During that time, we had quite an opportunity to talk. Sasa’s English was quickly improving. I took the opportunity to learn a few critical phrases in neander-thug as well.

  For starters, they referred to themselves as the Troglodyti people. Their language was far more simplistic than English. Over the course of our conversations, I slowly figured out that tenses beyond the present, past, and future were not a part of the Troglodyti lexicon. Gender distinctions such as ‘him’ and ‘her’ were unknown. Definite articles like ‘the’ simply did not exist.

  I learned how to say ‘yes’ and ‘no’; ‘please’ and ‘thank you’; ‘good’ and ‘bad’; as well as other critical words like ‘food,’ ‘water’ and most importantly… ‘bathroom.’