Jungle colony book 2, p.74
Jungle (Colony Book 2), page 74
And … one extra canister of fuel. She lifted the canister, double-checking the printed lettering on the silvery side. Green. Which meant that it would burn hotter than the blue currently loaded into the thrower on her back.
Start small, work your way up, she thought, setting the canister back down. Assuming we ever actually use either of these.
She rolled the cylinder back and forth in her hands before setting it down on the workbench once more—it lacked an attach point for her armor, so she’d place it in one of the ATVs cargo bins before they left. As long as you don’t leave it by mistake, she thought, glancing in Jake’s direction. He was still suiting up for the mission, currently occupied with attaching the expanded air tank that was now a requirement for going anywhere outside of the hab.
Which probably writes this place off for any ordinary form of colonization, given how stringent UNSEC seems to be with their requirements, she thought. Unless we find some sort of easy solution to the issue. She turned her gaze back to the workbench, not wanting to stare as Jake continued to prepare. But who knows? Not my call.
She tapped at her wrist, calling up her suit’s controls, and opened the expedition roster she’d downloaded into it earlier, double-checking each of the names that were assigned there. Morel, the commander, Johan, and Silva, she thought as she skimmed over the list. Looks like another sample-collecting mission. Nothing spectacular, then. The team had been on three of them since Wells’ had awoken, and aside from some slight worry from a few—and a lot of worry from Morel—they’d once again begun slipping into a fairly standard routine.
Looks like another sample run, she thought as she checked over the planned route. Head west, stop at a couple of spots and collect more samples, return. Simple.
Boring, too, but it beat life-or-death. She closed the summary and turned back toward Jake. From the look of things he was almost ready to go. Good.
She picked up the tank of fuel for her thrower and stepped over to the armory door, resting one hand against it as she turned toward Jake. “I’m going to head for the garage and get the ATVs ready. Pass me your tank.”
“Got it.” Jake’s spare fuel cylinder arced through the air, the burnished metal surface glimmering under the light as Anna caught it. “I might head out with the rest of the group. Still trying to get this … darn air tank … attached.”
“Want a hand?” she asked, but he was already shaking his head.
“No,” he said, his hands going to his back. “I’ll get it. Practice makes perfect.” She nodded and stepped out of the armory.
As she neared the common area, her helmet picked up raised voices coming from within, and she slowed. Did someone get into trouble? The tone didn’t sound stern. In fact, it almost sounded …
Excited? She slowed as she neared an intersection along the hab’s corridors. Is that Botha I hear? There was a hubbub of voices around it, all rising and falling around one another.
Something’s up, Anna thought. But not something bad. Not with those tones. She turned for the common area, away from the garage. Wait, she thought as another voice made itself heard. Not everyone’s on the same page. The new voice was harsh, dissonant. She recognized it too. Silva. Something else he’s not happy about. Surprise, surprise. But what, though?
She began to pick up scattered clumps of speech as she neared the common area, bits and pieces of what was beginning to sound halfway to an argument. At least on one side. The rest of the voices seemed more congenial.
“She can wait,” someone was saying. It took Anna a moment to place the voice. Silva. “Each one of us already applied for our positions on—”
“She hasn’t been on an expedition in over a week,” came another voice. Johan’s. “She’s been giving them up so that—”
“I don’t care,” Silva said as Anna rounded the corner and stepped into the common area. The man was standing apart from the group, already wearing his environmental suit, though he was missing the helmet. “We set up schedules for a reason, and—”
“Silva,” Ikeda said, glaring at him. “Please be quiet.” To the obvious relief of everyone present, the man obeyed, though it didn’t do anything to remove his look of annoyance.
“Ah,” Ikeda said, turning and drawing the group’s attention to Anna. “Neres. You’ve arrived.”
“Commander,” Anna said, taking stock of the room. Just about everyone but Wells, she thought, noting the number of them that were already outfitted in environmental suits, including Ikeda, though like Silva, each of them was sans a helmet. “What’s going on?”
“Contact!” Botha said, her face aglow, but she quieted as Ikeda glanced in her direction.
Contact? “What kind of contact?” Anna asked, shifting her weight ever so slightly.
“Sensor contact on Botha’s net,” Ikeda said. “In the direction our expedition was scheduled to head today.”
“What kind?”
“Small,” Botha said quickly. “About the size of a small dog, or a large cat.”
“So … animal?”
“Yes,” Botha said, her head nodding so quickly it looked almost painful. “One contact, moving very slow. But breathing, generating heat, moving … everything it needs to trip the sensor net.”
“Is it dangerous?”
“I don’t know,” Botha replied. “It’s too far out to get a clear picture. About the best I could get with the interference was … well, this.” She tapped her datapad, and a pixelated image awash with digital snow appeared in the air.
“Yeah, I see that,” Anna said as she looked at the blurry lump in the center of the shot. The image wasn’t even colored. “Or as best anyone can. So,” she said, looking toward the commander. “What’s the debate about?”
“Botha—”
“Quiet Silva,” Ikeda said, glaring at the aged botanist. “You’ve said your piece, and I have the full sky of it.” She turned back toward Anna. “Ms. Neres, would you object to a change of plans for our expedition today?”
“Depends on the change.” Though I can guess what at least part of it is, she thought, her eyes darting to Botha. Though not clad in an environment suit like the rest of the room, it was clear what the zoologist’s intentions were. Five people to watch, between Jake and I, would be doable, but that wouldn’t leave many here at the hab if something went wrong—
“A rotation,” Ikeda said. “You and Tames would still be escorting a total of four. So we would—”
“I volunteer to stay behind, commander,” Johan said, cutting her off. When the group looked at him in surprise, he shrugged. “Botha deserves a chance to go out, and I’ve spent plenty of time out there. I can pore over my data here in the hab. A few extra samples can wait.”
Commander Ikeda nodded and then looked at Silva. “Would this satisfy you, Silva?” she asked. Then, before he could reply, she shook her head. “Wait … it doesn’t matter, because you’re not in command. Your words of advice earlier have been listened to, but I think this solution fits everyone, does it not?” She glanced at the rest of the group, and then to Anna. “That just leaves your opinion on the matter, Neres.”
Four is four. “Rotating isn’t a big deal,” she said carefully. “However, if actual alien life is involved, then we’ll want to take additional security precautions, as well as plan out a new route—”
“Oh, we won’t need to do that,” Botha said, breaking away from what looked like a whispered conversation of thanks with Johan. “The net was tripped right along the path we were planning to take.”
Anna paused. “Really?”
Botha nodded. “Yes. It’s the furthest west piece of the sensor net too; any further west and we never would have caught it.”
“Has it moved out?”
“No,” Botha said, shaking her head as she tapped at her datapad. “In fact, it’s still in range of the first sensor, moving slowly east. Maybe some sort of slow, moss-feeding creature of some kind, but I obviously can’t say until I get a better picture. I understand that it’s a last-minute thing, but it only showed up on the sensors five—no, seven minutes ago now.”
“Huh,” Anna said, lifting one eyebrow though none of the group would be able to see it through her visor. That’s … convenient. “How quickly can you be ready? You’ll want proper safety equipment—that goes for all of you,” she said, shifting her gaze to the rest of the team. “Including you, Morel. In fact—” She lifted her hand to the side of her helmet. “Jake?”
There was a moment’s wait before his response came back. “Yeah?”
“Are you still in the armory?”
“Uh … yeah. About to leave, though. Why?”
“Change of plans. We’re leaving Johan and bringing Botha. Her sensor net finally caught something.”
“Whoa, no kidding?”
“Which means I want everyone fully kitted out, just in case. Can you pull up the proper gear?”
“Uh, yeah, shouldn’t take more than a minute or two.”
“Good,” she said, nodding. “Just standard self-defense stuff. But go ahead and grab a Rezzer from the locker for yourself while you’re at it.”
“That’s the shotgun, right?”
“Yeah. The team will meet you there. I’ll see you outside.”
“Got it.”
She dropped her hand, noting with annoyance the brief alert that flashed across her hud as her suit once again lost contact with her arm for moment. “All right, we’re okay with it. Provided,” she said, stressing the word, “that each of you travels armed.”
“Um … armed?” Morel asked, finally speaking up.
“Stunners or Sluggers, your call,” Anna said. “But if you don’t come armed, you don’t come at all. Jake’ll have your gear at the armory. That’s our only stipulation.”
“I see nothing to disagree with,” Commander Ikeda said, nodding as she turned to Botha. “How long will it take you to get ready?”
“About five minutes?” she said, her expression conveying that perhaps the estimate was a little generously understated.
“Go,” Ikeda replied, and Botha didn’t hesitate, almost bolting out of the room with Johan on her heels.
Probably to help her get ready, Anna thought as she watched the pair leave.
“Meanwhile,” Ikeda said, turning back to the rest of the group. “Morel. Silva. We are going to head to the armory.” She looked at Anna, an expectant look on her face.
“Jake will meet you there,” she said, filling in the information the trio lacked. “He’ll get you outfitted, and then you’ll head outside as normal. I’ll be in the garage, getting the ATVs ready to go. Same as originally planned.”
“Sounds good,” Ikeda said, looking back at Morel and Silva. “Let’s get to it.”
Anna let them leave the room first, waiting until they were out of sight before keying her comms once more. “Jake?”
“Here.”
“They’re on their way. Gear ‘em up. Sluggers, if possible. I want to be ready.”
“In case it’s dangerous?” he asked.
“Ultimately,” she said. “But the thing showed up on Botha’s sensor net about ten minutes ago. Very …”
“Coincidental?” Jake asked.
“Yeah,” she said, nodding as she made for the garage. “Conveniently so. Better to be alert. Just in case.”
“No disagreements here,” he replied. “I’ll bring the Rezzer with me. See you outside.”
“Will do,” she said, pulling her hand away from her helmet. Again the alert flashed on her hud, and she glared at it as she stepped into the garage airlock.
Life after all these weeks, she thought. Just as we were about to go out on an expedition into that same area. She hit the trigger to lock the interior door, the room sealing itself. Certainly a fortuitous coincidence. Very fortuitous.
Then again, she thought as the door to the garage opened with a hiss. We’re on a planet that hasn’t shown any signs of animal life until now—not even worms or insects, seems to only have a few types of plant life, odd mountains that don’t line up with the limited geological data we have that line the equator … And oh, yeah, strange electrical surges that seem to be amplified by the actual trees, which of course, are laced with stable-island metals … Yeah, compared to that, I guess having some life form wander into the sensor net right before we left wouldn’t be that out of place.
Still … as she moved across the garage, finally able to set down the two fuel cylinders she’d been carrying, she couldn’t help but feel a cool slick of unease somewhere inside her. Too convenient, she told herself.
Then again, Botha had said the creature was the size of a small dog. And all of them would be armed, she and Jake heavily. If it is dangerous, we should have an edge, she thought as she stowed the two fuel tanks, one in each ATV. We’ll be carrying plenty of firepower. Light firepower, and literal firepower—she tapped the butt-end of the thrower on her back—but plenty of both.
Both ATVs were fully charged, though one of them had yet another vine growth wound around one of the tires, and she peeled it away with a quick tug. How do those vines not cover everything? she wondered as she set it atop one of the fenders. The breeze outside would carry it away. Must be something in the trees that keeps them from being overwhelmed. Satisfied that both vehicles were ready to go, she hit the controls and climbed atop one of them as the garage’s heavy door swung up and out of the way.
She pressed the throttle, and the ATV rolled forward in a smooth motion, though her stomach did drop slightly as she crossed over the bio-hab’s artificial-grav threshold. The segmented tires dug into the grassy earth as she cranked the handlebars over, kicking up soil and particles of leafy green as the ATV went into a tight turn. She ran the machine around the outside of the hab, rolling to a stop in front of the main airlock, and then jogged back to the garage to get the second one, following the path she’d left in the grass.
Come to think of it, all the plant-life here is really resilient, she thought as the garage door closed with a heavy thump. She glanced down at the grassy surface of the clearing, eyeing the tough, diamond-shaped blades. We’ve been pulling in and out of the garage almost once a day now for weeks, and we still haven’t worn a path. You can barely see the egress. She glanced back, letting the ATV slow, eyeing the tracks the large machine had left. Will those even be there by the time we get back? Or will the grass have already covered up any trace of our passage?
A faint shiver rolled down her spine as she brought the second ATV to a stop alongside the first. I’m glad I’m the one with the good comms unit, she thought as she swung her leg over the side of the machine, dropping lightly to the ground. If we got stuck out in the middle of the valley, outside of the surges, I’d still be able to pick up the hab’s beacon. The rest of the expedition …
Granted, their equipment wasn’t cheap. It just hadn’t been designed to deal with the sheer alien nature of K-247-2.
I don’t even feel like I’m equipped for this place, she thought, leaning against the ATV and looking out at the distant jungle. She squinted, her visor adapting and zooming in to give her a closer look. It’s so strange. On the one hand, it could almost be a jungle back home. But on the other … It’s definitely not. She relaxed her face, the visor returning to normal. Behind her, there was a metallic thump followed by a sharp hiss, and she turned to see the airlock door opening, two suited figures stepping out. One of them was Jake, his security suit painfully obvious next to—her eyes darted the to the glass of the other helmet, peering through the tint to discern the individual inside, though the size of the suit didn’t hurt in making her observation—Silva.
“Where are Ikeda, Botha, and Morel?” she asked as the duo walked up to her, Silva’s arms full of sampling equipment, Jake’s Rezzer in a loose carry.
“Botha’s still grabbing her stuff and getting suited up,” Jake said as he came to a stop. “Morel, on the other hand, needed some liquid courage now that we’re heading out to expose ourselves to dangerous life.”
“The man’s a drunk,” Silva said, not looking at either of them as he began securing his gear on one of the ATVs.
“Don’t you have a few beers at dinner?” Jake said, his voice layered with sarcasm.
Silva let out a sigh and stopped, looking back at Jake. “Beer and Vodka are very different things.”
“He drinks scotch.”
“Yes,” Silva said. “For breakfast. In his coffee.”
“Give the guy a break,” Jake said. “He took the job to get away from his divorce. It’s a miracle he’s getting any work done at all without a breakdown.”
“Oh yes, a miracle,” Silva said. “A miracle and an expensive stock of scotch bottles.”
“Can it, Silva,” Anna said, trying to keep a tone of annoyance from taking over her voice. “How’d the old saying go? A mile in their shoes?” Silva grunted, but didn’t reply, and she turned back to Jake. “So, Morel’s handling his nerves without Kombes’ intervention, and Botha’s still getting ready. The commander?”
“Helping Botha,” Jake said. “She was having difficulty taking her eyes off of her datapad, so Ikeda’s keeping an eye on it while she gathers her gear. Just in case the thing starts to wander off. They should be out in a minute.”
“Good.” She nodded her head in the direction of the shotgun. “How much ammo did you bring for the Rezzer?”
Jake tapped the boxy weapon with one hand. “Thirty shells. Ten loaded.”
“In the chamber?”
He shook his head. “No. Not until I think I might use it.”
“You fired one before?”
“A few times. Pretty straightforward.”
She smirked. “Yeah, well, it’s the same people that made the Slugger. Nice and reliable.” Which was likely why it had been included in the armory’s equipment inventory; the gun was both easy to use and maintain as well as durable enough that it could be used as a club or a lever without bending the barrel—as its famous advertising campaign had attested when it had been used to change a tire on a vehicle.
