Jungle colony book 2, p.63
Jungle (Colony Book 2), page 63
Jake nodded as they turned toward the armory. Suddenly the missing weight of his Slugger by his hip seemed very conspicuous indeed.
We’re inside the hab, he told himself as they left the common area. On a planet with no animals. What’s the wor—?
He caught himself before he finished the thought, mentally chastising himself for thinking it in the first place. Do not finish that thought, he told himself.
Now more than ever, do not finish it.
He resisted the urge to give the jungle a final look as they left.
Chapter 20
The meeting that morning had gone surprisingly well, Anna reflected. At least, for both her and Jake, as well as Dr. Wells. The botanist’s pitch to the commander had been, to no one’s surprise, argued against quite vehemently by her counterpart, who’d initially tried to stifle her and prevent her from even making her case, but Ikeda had seen through the ruse for what it was. Silva’s pride was wounded: He was a veteran of dozens of off-world missions, and well-known for it, while Wells was a botanist from Earth with little experience in xenobiology.
He might even be taking it personally, Anna thought as she ran her mind back over the meeting. The man certainly hadn’t expected Ikeda to side with Wells, nor to agree to her plan once she’d presented it; protesting the entire time and threatening to lodge an official complaint through proper channels once they returned. Though it had been his sudden insistence that perhaps all his findings had been meaningless due to sabotage that had truly threatened to send the meeting boiling over, and provoked a sharp retort from the commander.
Although … It wasn’t as though he hadn’t made several solid points that had drawn odd looks. Though Anna had heard a few of them from Wells the day before, Silva’s insistence that many of the reports he was getting simply couldn’t be—especially when running multiple tests on the same sample—had drawn a number of questioning looks in Wells direction, and almost split the room until Jake had volunteered that he’d checked the security footage of the lab against such an occasion, and procured footage showing that at no point during Silva’s tests did Wells approach the analyzer. It wasn’t the most solid form of proof—even Jake had pointed out that there were numerous simple ways that such a machine could be sabotaged remotely or at another time and place—but it did serve to highlight that if Silva was serious about his claim, he would need to search through hundreds of hours of footage to find actual proof—and that the perpetrator could just as easily be any member of the group.
Smart move, having that footage queued up in advance like that, Anna thought as she entered the common hab, giving a short, swift nod to the two members of the team currently using it—Lankiss and Morel. The former was sitting by the window, her gaze fixed on her datapad and a dense tome of text that she appeared to be poring over, while the latter was sitting as far from the window as possible, his own eyes locked to an entertainment thriller that Anna’s idle glance identified several items of questionable accuracy in. The microbiologist gave her a faint, nervous smile as she passed, and she nodded in return, taking pains to keep the motion simple and straightforward. It wasn’t uncommon for people to be nervous around augs, but most tended to ease up after the first few days. Morel, on the other hand, seemed to consider that a suicidal prospect, to the point where he was hesitant to even speak with her.
Then again, Anna thought as she began climbing the stairs that led to the bunks. Morel seems scared of everything. We’ve been here two weeks, and he’s still wearing that breath mask underneath his helmet. As well, he’d yet to return a verdict on the atmosphere of the planet, continually responding to Commander Ikeda’s queries with admittedly detailed responses on the various experiments he was running, and why exactly he couldn’t give the go-ahead for the team to try exposing themselves to the air just yet in very high-terminology specifics.
Not like I’d leave my armor anyway, Anna thought as she stepped up to her bunk and pulled the privacy paneling back. The shutters over her window to the outside were closed—between the odd day-night cycle and the foreboding feeling the jungle seemed to carry with it, it hadn’t taken her long to decide that having no view at all was preferable to the view she’d had. She rooted through her belongings for a moment, finding what she wanted with only a few moments’ worth of searching, and then headed for the private bathroom at the back of the unit. Everyone else can expose their bare skin to this place. I don’t think I ever will.
It only took her a minute or so to change, swapping the clothes she had been wearing for a simple, plain-white t-shirt and a pair of workout shorts. Her used clothes went into the small hamper drawer at the end of her bed, which was almost full. She’d need to do laundry soon.
Plenty of time to do that, she thought as she stood, stretching and arching her back. Even with the upcoming excursions out. That had been the second most attention–grabbing moment of the meeting that morning, though doubtless Ikeda had expected it to be the first. Still, once the matter of letting Wells take charge of XNA-testing had been decided, the commander had informed that group that in light of the relatively uneventful time spent on K-247-2’s surface so far, she was going to increase the number of outside excursions the team made, as well as open up the immediate clearing around the hab for study without a member of the security team present.
The news had been a revelation to Anna, and her glance at Jake had confirmed that it was as much a surprise for him as well.
Actually, she thought as she made her way back down the steep stairs and into the commons. Most of the group seemed surprised. Not all, but most.
Still, the commander’s reasoning had been sound. In two weeks, we haven’t seen a single sign of threatening life forms, she thought as she reached the bottom of the steps, only to realize that she’d left her datapad atop her bunk and turn around. Or threatening plants. Rationally, there’s no reason why we should be afraid to let anyone wander around the clearing to conduct experiments.
And yet … She scooped her datapad up from her bunk, pausing to check that it was loaded with the files she wanted and then returning to the steps once more. We haven’t seen anything, she thought. Haven’t found anything. Haven’t recorded anything. All the signals point towards us being completely and utterly alone as forms of mobile life on this planet.
But despite all that, Ikeda’s announcement had been met with some trepidation, with odd looks that had faded over time to become masks that said “Well of course, why wouldn’t we?” Well, maybe they were masks. In some cases they’d appeared quite genuine. And some members of the team had even taken advantage of the newly-lifted restriction. Price and Botha were both out in the clearing at the moment, taking readings or even just taking a moment to stretch their legs. Silva had gone with them, his stated intent to collect more samples from the trees around the edge and study the tree line now that he was no longer running the XNA analyzer. Jake was keeping an eye on all three of them from the armory, security drones at the ready in case something did happen … though if she was being honest with herself, it was likely just a formality.
Likely … she noted as she reached the bottom of the steps and turned toward the back of the common area, toward the larger restroom that was more suited to handling a large group. In their case, it was more than adequate for the task, with four toilets and just as many shower services. She’d marveled at that initially, before realizing that it was likely an outcome of the bio-hab’s modular design. A team of ten or a team of twenty, all would end up sharing the same type of unit. If they needed more space, the expedition could just drop another common area down alongside the first.
But it wasn’t the bathrooms she was heading to, and as she neared the entrance to them she turned to the side, heading for a seldom-used section of the unit, shoved in a back corner almost like an afterthought. Bright light from outside assaulted her eyes as she slid the door open, but she didn’t mind. In the corner of the hab as the small gym was, the two panes of glass that framed the corner of the unit had a view of only the sky and other sections of the bio-hab, unless she was close enough to the edge to look down and see grass. Which she would be only if she almost pressed her face up against it.
The gym was small, and as she’d found over the last week, hardly ever used. Aside from herself and Jake, the only ones she’d ever known to even use it had been Dr. Kombes and Lankiss, that latter of which had expressed surprise that Anna even needed to exercise thanks to her augments. Which was a common misconception: Biologic augmentation certainly made one tougher, stronger, and faster in just about every aspect, as well as improving the human metabolism so that she would remain fitter longer, but it didn’t completely remove the need for physical exertion in order to stay healthy. Eventually, her body would start to atrophy like anyone else’s if left doing little.
And thankfully, while the gym was small, it was well-equipped, right down to an isolated grav-generator that allowed its equipment to pull double-duty for those who were augmented, while still being usable by those that were not. Not that she was going to make use of that feature just yet. She wanted to get her blood pumping first.
The treadmill near the window was still set to the same settings she’d keyed in the last time she’d gone for a run, apparently having been left untouched by anyone who’d used the gym in the intervening days. She nodded as she set her datapad up on the treadmill’s stand, locking it into place with a click, but she had no intention of using those settings. The last time she’d worked out, she’d only run for twenty minutes before moving on to lifting weights, but this time, she wanted something a bit more substantial.
I’ve got time, she thought as she keyed in the length of her session, fingers darting through holographic controls. Say … two hours? It would be a good workout—nothing strenuous, but enough to remind her body to keep its current level of fitness for the time being.
That, she thought as she hit “GO” and the surface beneath her began to slide backward, forcing her to step forward. And two hours should be plenty of time to read through all those reports. A deep, thumping bass pattern began to pound in time with her feet as her datapad synced with the treadmill, pumping her running mix at her through directional speakers.
Her pace began to increase as the treadmill’s movement picked up, her feet hitting the belt with practiced, almost mechanical movements. She let herself just run for a minute, her breathing barely changing as her pace climbed past a jog and then past what would be considered a normal running speed for most people.
She wasn’t most people. She was augmented. Doctors and machines had very carefully pulled her body to the peak of known human capacity, tightening muscles, strengthening bone, and amplifying nerves, pushing every part of her body past the human norm through combinations of genetic and biological triggers. Her metabolism was faster, her senses sharper, and her reactions quicker. At her current speed she could run for hours without even breathing hard. Her blood carried more oxygen than was normal, the change wrought by tiny modifications to her blood cells that aided them in bonding much more of the precious element from a single breath than anyone ordinary ever would. Her body had changed to make more efficient use of that air as well.
The pace increased once more, the belt quickening its movements, and she adjusted to follow suit, the rapid slap of her feet against it rising in a matching crescendo. She was almost at her pace, now. Normal people jogged. Warriors like herself—mercenaries, soldiers … augmented—they ran. At a pace that would have stunned professional athletes from just a century ago.
Then again, she thought as the faint hum of the treadmill reached a steady plateau, the motion of her body falling into an easy cadence alongside it. If one of them were auged, they’d probably still be able to beat me. Maybe. She grinned at the glass in front of her. Even if I wasn’t auged, I’d probably still be pretty tough.
She had been before she’d been auged. Before she’d been old enough for the procedures, back when she and her brother had been fresh recruits, fearful of what lay ahead, but damn sure that neither of them ever wanted to go back to what they’d been running from.
Not running from, she reminded herself, echoing her brother’s old words. But working to change.
They’d done it, too. Years later, after both of them had been augmented, after they’d saved what they could, they’d gone back to their old home, back to the hovel-like squalor of The Runs, that nightmarish mish-mash of rusted metal and poverty. A week’s leave—the first they’d ever taken—two tickets apiece, and they’d been back in the same, twisted halls, back where they’d grown up.
Little had changed. Their mother had been older. There had been a newer, younger sibling born in their absence, his body already showing the telltale signs of both a life in The Runs and their father’s angry, drunken tendencies. The walls were still full of holes.
They’d added a new one when they’d tossed their father through it.
To be fair, they’d let him throw the first punch. And the second. And the third. All while ranting about how they’d deprived him of his “rights” by leaving and how they had “offended him” by fleeing. None of the blows had connected. Augmented as they were, and drunk as he was, they’d had no trouble avoiding them with ease, or simply stopping them entirely with an open palm. They’d decided to wait his anger out, to let him spend it until he realized how outmatched he was before delivering their ultimatum.
Then he’d gone for their mother and younger sibling with the bottle, and that plan had changed in an instant. Their father had gone through the wall, and then, while he was still struggling to stand, her older brother had broken his wrist, shattering the bones with a simple snap of his hand. And then they’d explained who they’d become, what they were, and what would happen to him if any of them ever saw him again.
Then they’d left, taking their mother and new younger brother with them, out of The Runs and away from a broken home that had been battered down bit by bit, bottle by drunken bottle. They’d taken her somewhere new, somewhere fresh, exchanged tearful hugs that had long been missed, and then, after a lot of time spent catching up, they’d gone back to work, secure with the knowledge that she and their younger brother would be safe.
She shook her head, drifting back out of the memories and becoming aware that one of her cheeks was faintly wet. She raised a hand, feeling the faint tracks of barely shed tears, and blinked them away. She didn’t bother wiping them off; it had only been a bit of moistness, and the sweat that was breaking out across her body would wash it away soon enough. Even so, she felt a faint pang in her chest as the last of the memories faded, her older sibling’s smiling face flashing out at her across a thousand scenes at hundreds of locations.
I miss him, she thought, pulling in a deeper breath. I wish you were still here. She raised a hand and without thinking rubbed at the scar on her shoulder, hidden beneath her shirt. He would’ve been great to have on hand in Pisces. Would have loved my PR-6 too. I might have even let him fire it. And he and Jake would have gotten along well too …
She shook her head again. And if he were here right now, he’d tell me to focus and get back to work, she thought, her eyes drifting to the timer resting just below her datapad. She’d lost several minutes reminiscing. And he’d be right.
She reached out and tapped the datapad with one finger, calling it to life. She’d set it to display, and the machine complied, the menu coming into being above the front of the treadmill and resting at eye level. It was tricky to make the right selection while running as she was, but she managed, opening up the collection of reports that she and Jake had put together the night before. As they had on Pisces, both of them had identical copies, two sets of separate eyes being better than just one—though it did mean twice the material to go over.
A sense of familiarity swept through her, and she glanced out the window, letting free a small chuckle. And suddenly we’re back on Pisces again, she thought. Reading up on the strange planet we’ve been stuck on and trying to figure out what’s going on.
Well, she thought as she tapped the first report, which was a summary report on the planet itself they’d downloaded from the orbital satellite. It’s a little different. No sub this time, not that it would help here. No pirates, though, either. And hopefully no revolutionaries. And no water, though I guess that’s Jake’s thing.
No Sweets either. She felt a momentary pang of guilt for the way their team had been split. Had it been Jake being split from myself and Sweets, I wouldn’t worry, she thought. Or all three of us going our separate ways? Not a problem. But us being split into two, sent off on different missions …
She shoved the worry out of her mind. Sweets isn’t foolish, she told herself. Laid back, maybe, and a little less capable than me or Jake as far as combat goes, but he’s not foolish. He managed to get himself into Section 38’s computers and most of the way out of North Shore without our help.
Still, it was the bit that had been left that she worried about. Hopefully, wherever he is, he’s keeping his head down. That’s all I can hope for.
She pulled herself away from the thoughts, focusing her attention once more on the documents now floating in front of her. Most people found it odd that she could read while running, but reading while exercising had been one of the few ways for her to find time to continue her studies when she’d first run away. Her older brother had pushed both her and himself to continue with their education, and though it had meant learning a few new skills along the way—like reading while on a treadmill—she’d made it work.
And as it had turned out, it was a handy skill to have.
She sped over the satellite report first, making sure to bring up the initial survey report and cross-check the numbers, just on the chance that they didn’t add up. To her relief, they did. As well, the numbers the satellite gave her were perfectly ordinary—save the constant communications disruptions it reported. But the planet itself was normal. A little small, and with a dense core—another thing that Anna recalled Lankiss mentioning as a possible source of the heavy magnetosphere activity—but still ordinary. A bulge in the middle, just as a normal planet was supposed to have, and the numbers, when she slowly poked them into a calculator, held up.
