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Chapter Eleven
Disaster in
the Forest
Crowded
behind Commander Falon and his senior officers were students and members of the
ship’s crew. The crackling of
Rescue Team Four’s stunners against a relentless horde of predators, the
chirping and cooing of the spike-toes surrounding the beleaguered groups, and
the prospects of saving not one but two of the rescue teams, in addition to
finding Rifkin still alive, overwhelmed the officers and well-wishers on the
bridge. During their vigil, Remgen
and Arkru continued their search, each leader at his wit’s end as he pondered
the featureless green. As Rescue
Team Four battled for their lives, Rescue Team One sat helplessly in their
vehicle while the spike-toes circled the ferns. Torn by his sense of duty and his instinct to survive,
Zither held the steering wheel in a death grip. He wanted to comfort Illiakim, who sat sobbing hysterically
to herself, but he couldn’t speak, which was just as well. A cowardly squeal might be uttered now
from his mouth. He wanted to curse
Rifkin and the professor for placing them all in harm’s way. More than anything else in his short
life, he wanted to drive the crawler out of the copse and charge back down the
alternate path. The slow-moving
crawler might prove to be a death trap for them. They might be torn to pieces as they attempted to escape,
but at least he would have tried to save his teammates from what looked like
certain death.
As
the copse of tree ferns they hid in was increasingly encompassed by
spike-toes—one, two and then three abreast—Rescue Team One realized they were
in a predicament almost as bad as Rescue Team Four. Imwep and Kogin now turned their anger upon Varik, whose
recklessness had made their situation worse. Illiakim continued sobbing into her headset, while Zither’s
vocal chords remained frozen in his throat.
“Calm
down Rescue Team One,” Arkru called out over his radio, although he was
anything but calm. “Do you remember what you did as the three-horns passed?”
“Yes,”
replied the second mate incredulously, “nothing.”
“Precisely!”
Arkru exclaimed, bringing his crawler to a stop. “I’m positive that these
fellows are attracted by sounds more than anything else. I explained this to Zorig awhile ago,
and now it’s come back to me. If
you sit very still in your seats, they might just leave you alone!”
“This
is not a passing herd of three-horns,” Imwep murmured, shaking his head. “These
fellows are anything but stupid—you said as much yourself. You were right when you said this is a
game to them. When they’re through
cavorting around our bush, they’ll eat us up. It won’t matter to them if we’re standing on our heads!”
“Sit
still?… Leave them alone?… Is the good professor losing his wits?” Eglin
murmured from the bridge.
“Silence
everyone!” Falon shouted suddenly into his transmitter. “Imwep, Kogin, Varik,
Zither, and Illiakim, do what the professor says. Sit still and be very quiet. Don’t make a sound!”
Imwep
held one gloved fingers in front of his helmet as if to say “Hush!” to his
teammates, but rolled his eyes around in disgust. The other members of Rescue Team One nodded mutely as they
listened to the spike-toes chirp and cavort around the ferns. As they sat very still in the crawler,
they looked like statues in their bulky life support systems, frozen in time
and space. The glowing eyes of
their tormentors peeked through the fronds. As shadowy figures, they swarmed thickly around the
copse. As the tree ferns shook and
the terrible mewing and chirping grew louder, it seemed as if the predators
were ready to break through. After
only a few more moments of sitting absolutely still, however, the aliens were
greatly relieved to find the shadows disappearing and the mewing and chirping
fading from the scene. Clearly, as
Doctor Arkru had predicted, the predators were drifting back toward the embattled
rescue team after losing interest in Rescue Team One.
“It
worked,” Kogin murmured to Illiakim. “I think they’re gone.”
Dazl,
who sat beside Arkru in the crawler, marveled at what he had just heard. “Can
you believe it?” He crowed into his headset. “Silence has won the day!”
“Yes,
Dazl,” uttered the professor as he contemplated the path ahead, “it’s truly
amazing. I just hope that young
Rifkin discovered this too. Now
stay put Rescue Team One until help arrives, and don’t make any noise.”
“What
about Rescue Team Four?” Varik blurted aloud.
“What
about them?” Kogin whispered shrilly as he gave Varik’s helmet a thump. “The
damn fools brought this on themselves!”
******
Against
his better judgment, Commander Falon was permitting unauthorized persons on the
bridge. He allowed this lapse in
the rules in wake of Rifkin’s disappearance in the forest. After hearing the news that one of the
teams sent to find Rifkin was surrounded by predators, an even larger crowd of
idlers grew in the small room. Except for a few emotional outbursts by Urlum, Rifkin’s
sweetheart, and the callous betting going on between crew members this hour,
the visitors had been quiet and well-behaved, trying their best not to interfere
with the communication between the commander and his teams. Except for the recent feast in the
dining hall, the camaraderie between the students, officers and crew members
had never been greater.
Commander Falon and his officers had to deal with
yet another crisis in the forest: Rescue Team One. They were growing tired of a restive audience in the
room. Upon hearing that Rescue
Team One had failed to save her brother’s group and had driven straight into a trap,
Urlum had broken down completely and was ushered from the room. Afterwards, when it appeared that
Imwep’s group was out of danger, it was soon apparent to everyone listening to
Arkru and Remgen’s groans that Rescue Teams Two and Three couldn’t find the
alternate path. The hopelessness
of Rescue Teams One and Four’s situations was all too obvious to the audience
gathered on the bridge, and it appeared that Rifkin would never be found. At the same time that Rifkin’s
classmates grieved for him and saw him as a lost cause, Hobi, Imwep, and Kogin’s
shipmates cursed him to the Outer Reaches, blaming him for what had befallen
their friends. Falon found the
sudden grumbling back and forth unsettling. As the crew members began taunting the children, he ordered
them off the bridge. When Omrik,
Yorzl, Lumnal, and Zeppa continued to whimper amongst themselves, he ordered
them off the bridge too.
“I’ve
had it!” he shouted, pointing to the hatch. “All of you—students, crew members
and idlers! Out! Out! Out!”
“It’s
about time!” Orix said, prodding the last malingerer from the room. “This whole
Rifkin madness has turned the ship upside down!”
Only
Abwur, the communications officer, and Doctor Eglin remained on the bridge with
Falon and Orix for morale, rather than technical, support. Abwur was responsible for repairing all
computers and electronic devices aboard the ship and Eglin was, of course, the
ship’s medic. Together they
provided the chief officers of the ship with advice and good company,
especially during times of crisis such as the disaster confronting them now.
“This
isn’t your fault,” Abwur said intuitively as Falon sat grumbling to himself.
“Those whelps are nothing but trouble.
You should’ve put them in their place when we first landed on this
world.”
“But
this wasn’t suppose to happen,” Falon groaned in frustration. “Up until our
landing on Irignum, all went well for our muddle-headed professor. The incorrigible Rifkin provided
amusement to the ship’s crew. The
rules of alien engagement demanded by the Father’s of Science worked on planets
like Raethia and Beskol. But we
were complacent. I was complacent!” “No, Abwur,” he
sighed brokenly now, “I should’ve cracked down on them a long time ago when our
odyssey began.”
“Come
now, my good commander,” Eglin pshawed, shaking head, “it’s not too late. You have the entire ship’s crew behind
you. You certainly have your
officers on your side.”
“I
don’t have the mother ship,” Falon countered bitterly, rubbing his temples.
“According to the good professor, I command the ship but he commands the ark.”
“I
fail to see the difference,” uttered Abwur. “Call it what you will, but those
creatures could also be considered cargo in the hold of our ship.”
“Yes,
the ark is merely the collection portion of the ship, nothing more,” Orix
chimed in tutorially. “In space, Falon’s in charge. After landing our vessel, in or out of the ship, he still
commands.”
Falon
brightened. His mood began to
change.
“Thank
you, my navigator,” he smiled faintly. “I understand my senior officers. What you’re all saying, is what I’ve
heard from my first mate and chief engineer: take control of the mission. But would this not be construed as
mutiny by the mother ship?”
“Who
cares about the mother ship?” Eglin said, waving a hand. “In a few decades
Revekia will be cosmic dust.
Already our planet’s inhabitants are being transplanted to other worlds,
while we continue the work of science and collection at the far edge of
space. The mother ship is almost
an abstraction now. I wonder if
we’ll ever see her again.”
“Yes,”
Abwur, the second sage, spoke, “we are becoming a race of nomads. As you know commander, nomads make
their own laws. Ever since the Old
Ones broke from our ways, a feeling of rebellion followed those venturing into
space. You have some of it, we all
have some of it, and that numbskull Rifkin has a great deal of it flowing in
his veins. We need more of their
spirit now commander. The Fathers
of Science have never seen a planet like Irignum, nor have any of their vessels
traveled this far. I’m sure, if
they knew what we knew, they’d understand.”
“Then
it’s true,” said Commander Falon, stirring in his seat, “you want me take
control of the mission?”
“No
sir,” Abwur replied boldly, rising to his feet, “I mean take control period! This is your ship Falon, not the professor’s ark! The ark is part of the ship. This mission is just one mission in our
continuing odyssey through space.”
“Take control!” Eglin echoed Abwur’s
sentiment. “Put that bumbling old fool in his place!”
“Yes
commander,” Orix rose from his seat, “but first, let’s upgrade our weapons and
show this planet’s monsters who’s in control!”
“Alas,”
Falon said wistfully, “that’s not going to help our teams now. All our fine words won’t. It’s going to take several months
for Abwur to organize such an effort.
What do we do now?”
Doctor
Eglin, who was not only the chief medic but spiritual advisor for the ship,
held his palms upward, and said in his most pontifical voice, “We pray, my good
commander. We ask Izmir to give us
wisdom and guidance in the coming days!”
******
Not
knowing where or how to look for the alternate beaten path, Remgen realized,
after a short while, that he didn’t have a clue. He instructed his driver Rezwit to slow down to a crawl as
they looked frantically for the entrance to the path. Soon Rescue Team Two had caught up with Rescue Team Three,
catching the first mate sitting in the crawler scratching his helmet in a
gesture of confusion and dismay.
Vimml and Shizwit sat quietly and anxiously in the back seat as Rescue
Team Two approached.
“Where’s
the alternate path?” cried Arkru as they pulled alongside of Team Three. “Don’t
tell me you can’t find it. We’re running out of time!”
Remgen
made a deprecating gesture with both hands. “It all looks the same to me
professor: green on green.”
“Well,
that’s not good enough,” Arkru scolded him querulously. “We’ve got two teams on
the verge of being torn to bits.
Let’s go in both directions: you search north and I’ll search south,
until one of us finds a freshly made entrance to a path.”
Remgen
resented being told what to do by a civilian—an intellectual at that! Dazl winced at his colleague’s
scolding, but Alafa was amused by the feisty old man. Remgen nudged Rezwit gruffly and, without a word, Rescue
Team Three drove slowly up the path, while the professor turned the crawler
around to face south and began scanning his half of Zone Two’s path.
The process of discovery was painful for everyone
concerned, but especially for Rescue Team Four. Zorig and his teammates continued to fire upon the stubborn
predators while Imwep and his team sat helplessly inside the copse.
“Where
are those blithering hubrid-brained dakkas?” Kogin murmured into his headset.
“The
fools are lost!” Imwep spat the words.
Kogin
and Imwep’s barbs caused Remgen and Arkru to cringe with guilt. Along with everything else going wrong
this hour, Rescue Teams Two and Three seemed hopelessly lost. Commander Falon was comforted by his
officers as he listened to the beleaguered teams. He was disappointed with the professor and the first mate,
but he also felt sorry for them as they drove up and down like hubrids
searching for the path. Mentally,
he agreed with Eglin and Abwur’s criticism, but his heart agonized over his
inability to save the teams. It
was the first time in his career as commander that he was unable to personally
assist the crewmen, students, and technicians of his ship. His death would, in theory, be
devastating for the mission, but the death of just one of the ship’s company in
this godless wilderness was unacceptable to him right now.
“Remgen
and Imwep are both right,” he could hear the professor mutter bitterly to his
team, “we can’t find the entrance.
Out here, it’s one great featureless green. We are, in fact, profoundly ignorant of this planet’s
topography. At the rate we’re
going, the search could go on for hours!”
“That’s
unacceptable!” Falon’s catchword blared over the airways. “Unacceptable, do you
hear me? Un-ac-cept-able! You must look more closely Doctor
Arkru. Remgen, I expected better
from a veteran such as you! Imwep,
Kogin, Zither, Zorig—all of you out there, please don’t lose heart! “
For
their part, Kogin and Imwep continued to utter quiet imprecations at the tardy
rescuers. It didn’t seem to matter
to them that everyone could hear what they were saying. Then, inexplicably, the crackle of
stunners died down as the spike-toes regrouped several yards from the
front. Though it seemed to be a
foolish notion, it appeared to Zorig that the predators had gone into a huddle,
at one point, to decide their next move.
Through a fog of fatigue and fear, Zorig noticed that many of the
spike-toes lay motionless on the ground.
Their constant fire was taking its toll. At last, the Class 4 Stunner was having an effect upon the
predators. But, at the same time
that their efforts appeared to be paying off, the fact remained that there were
still several dozen of them advancing and retreating relentlessly as he and his
teammates wore themselves out. As
no surprise to him, the huddle ended.
Something he didn’t expect, though, almost paralyzed him with fear. As wicked, carefree children, the
spike-toes pranced and frolicked toward their prey, calling, with their chirps
and mewling, their kinsfolk from the forest, until it appeared, in Zorig’s
panic-driven mind, that hundreds of spike-toes were emerging as reserve forces
from the trees. Hobi, Imyor,
Ibris, Tobit and the team leader began, without spoken words, to fire in shifts. Two or three would stand and shoot their
stunners while the remainder would rest against the rock. Such a simple routine, Zorig realized,
was absolutely essential, for it kept them from dropping from sheer exhaustion. Now, however, the fact that Rescue Team
One had become surrounded by spike-toes and both Rescue Team Two and Three
couldn’t find the alternate path dampened whatever hopes they had of surviving
the predators’ onslaught.
“I
don’t know how much longer we can keep this up,” he confessed into this
headset. “When we train our fire power on certain spike-toes they drop in their
tracks and don’t get up. . . but too many of them are taking their places. . .
Our arms and legs are tired. . . How much longer do we have to wait?”
“Not
long,” Arkru promised, heaving a sigh.
“Hold
on,” Imwep uttered in a faint whisper, “we’re gonna get you out!”
“How?”
screamed Zorig. “You’re surrounded Imwep!
The professor and Remgen haven’t a clue! We need help now!”
Both
Kogin and Varik now socked their gloved fists with frustration. As Illiakim sat in a hysterical stupor,
Zither, himself, was on the verge of tears. Managing to stay calm during the crisis, Imwep carefully
peeked out of the copse into the direction of Rescue Team Four. Suddenly, as before, the predators
paused, appearing to regroup again, as if they might be having second thoughts.
“Psst! Kogin,” he whispered as the third mate
sat grumbling under his breath, “the guns have stopped and so has that awful
chirping. I think Rescue Team
Four’s guns are having an effect.
Enough electrons have bombarded some of their thick hides; it looks as
if many of those blighters are dead.
It could also be that those beasties are getting a second wind. Team Four, however, has ran out of
steam. We must take matters into
our own hands!” “Commander,” Imwep’s voice rose a notch. “Are you listening
sir? I should be saying this to
you.”
“I’m
listening,” Falon’s voice was husky with emotion. “I just wish I could be there
to help…. These are hard, unfriendly times for my crew.”
“Don’t
worry sir,” Imwep piped reassuringly, “Zorig’s team has made a difference. A couple of them are lying dead out
there, at least I think they’re dead.
The rest of them out there are biding their time. With our weapons joining Rescue Team
Four’s, we should be able to draw off half of the predators and give Four some
time until Two and Three arrive.”
“Proceed,”
replied Falon in a deadpan voice.
“All
right. That’s very touching,”
Kogin mumbled, looking anxiously at his leader. “What now?”
Gripping
both Kogin’s and Varik’s shoulders, Imwep spoke gently to them: “Now listen
lads, those other fellows looking for the alternate path are lost.” “No offense
intended,” he said for the benefit of the professor and Remgen, “but they’re
not going to be much help until they find the entrance to the path. We’re going to have to take matters
into our own hands if we want to save Zorig’s team. By the time the others arrive, Rescue Team Four will have
been shredded over the jungle floor!”
“Count
me in,” Varik leaned forward anxiously.
“What
about them?” Kogin pointed to Zither and Illiakim, who shrank fearfully into
their seats.
“They’re
children,” Imwep smiled compassionately at them. “They’re staying put!”
Forgetting
his radio etiquette once more, Kogin replied that it had been a terrible
mistake to send children to do adults’ work. Again the professor cringed with guilt as he searched for
the entrance to the path. The
students looked up forlornly at the adults. It seemed so unfair to them, after all their training from
Doctor Arkru, that these rustics were in control of the rescue and Commander
Falon was giving orders to Arkru from the bridge. Kogin caught Zither’s pained expression and took time to
console him now.
“There-there
lad,” he patted him paternalistically on his helmet. “The old second mate’s
right. It’s up to us see that you
whelps don’t become casualties.
You have no business being out here in the first place!”
“But
I-I want to help,” Zither voice broke with emotion. “I studied and planned to
be a collector—we all did, just like Doctor Arkru. Now, all of a sudden we—the professor, students and
technicians—have lost control. If
we can’t pull our weight now, what good will all our training and effort have
been?”
“You
know something lad,” Imwep leaned foreword to whisper exclusively to him,
“…
when I was your age I was still playing children’s games on Revekia. You wouldn’t catch my parents sending
me off into the unknown. No sir,
we let children grow up naturally then.
Kogin’s right lad; this notion of the Fathers of Science to send out
children to do an adult’s work is a great mistake. What kind of parents would even allow this to happen? Why, at the rate our journey is going,
you’ll be my age when you return!”
Zither
was moved by the crusty officers’ concern. When he thought about it, he realized that he had never felt
comfortable with so much responsibility.
Though Imwep and Kogin
couldn’t have known, Zither’s father had been killed in the Old Ones Wars and
his mother had been too busy as a scientist to give him much attention when he
was a child. Zither’s
grandparents’ hatred of war had instilled in him a pacifism that even the
dangers of Irignum couldn’t shake.
It had made him mentally ill equipped for this hostile world. Kogin interpreted his silence as
disagreement, however, and he changed tactics when Zither didn’t speak.
“It’s
this Rifkin fellow, isn’t?” he asked, looking down at him now. “He’s caused
more trouble than he’s worth. He’s
got the whole ship in a turmoil and endangered all our lives.” “Well let me
tell you lad,” he wrung his finger, “he’s an immature little show-off, and he
doesn’t impress me at all!”
******
It
saddened Doctor Arkru to hear the adults talk disparagingly about one of his
pupils. Rifkin had showed so much
promise in his eyes, but now, because of the dilemma he had placed the
students, technicians, and ship’s crewmembers in, he was becoming a pariah in
everyone’s minds. For several
moments, as he frantically searched each side of the forest, the professor
mumbled deliriously to himself “Must find path…. Must find path.” No one in the crawler, including the
talkative Alafa, could console him or give him encouragement, so they, too,
lapsed into silence, until pandemonium broke on the alternate path.
At
this point, the professor could hear shouts from both of the beleaguered teams
as Imwep, Kogin and Varik began firing on the pack. As always, the crackling sound was, in itself, a
heart-stopping sound. Only about
half of the remaining predators began advancing on the aliens, wary of the
fire-stick’s power after seeing many of their comrades finally drop from
repeated bombardment, yet undeterred.
Unlike Rescue Team Four, who had an outcrop of igneous rock at their
backs, the three team members could move around on their firing line, which
made their gunshots seem more like an offensive maneuver rather than pure
defense. As a dozen or more of the
spike-toes rushed the trio, Imwep realized they had succeeded in dividing the
pack but at very great peril.
Unfortunately, this advantage would soon change.
As
Rescue Team Four had discovered earlier, Imwep, Kogin, and Varik found that
training their line of fire on one predator at a time had a more lasting effect
on the spike-toes than random potshots.
For awhile it heartened Rescue Team One’s marksmen to see the constant
barrage of electrons nearly halt the predators’ advance, until, to everyone’s
horror, several of the downed predators, who had seemed to have dropped dead,
were climbing groggily back onto their feet. Zorig was not surprised about this setback and offered
no comment when the predators seemed resurrected before his eyes. The sight of so many of them getting
back onto their feet was too much for his terror-shocked brain. After all the electrons they had thrown
at them from their stunners and even with Rescue Team Ones’ added shots, the
predators stubbornly believed they had cornered helpless prey. The impact, though far greater when
received from more than one gun, was still not permanent and seemed to have no
lasting impact on the dinosaur’s nervous systems and thick hides.
The positions of both Rescue Teams Four and One seemed utterly hopeless
at this point, and yet a far more serious problem loomed suddenly at the edge
of the clearing. Zorig saw them
first through the advancing bodies of the third spike-toe assault, but could
not believe his eyes. Because of
the dense undergrowth of ferns and low-lying limbs, the approach of this horde
had caught the aliens by surprise.
“It’s
working!” Varik squealed with delight.
“No,
it’s not!” cried Kogin. “They’re climbing back on their feet, even the ones
lying down. I’ve never seen so
many of these blighters in one place.
We should’ve stayed in our bush!”
“Keep
your heads lads,” Imwep tried sounding confident, “the pack’s now broken in
half. At least we’re slowing them
down!”
“Slowing
them down? Broken in half?” Zorig
screamed hysterically into his receiver. “What nonsense! Are you blind? Are you deaf? Can’t you see them?
Can’t you hear them?
There’s more of them coming out of the forest. It’s going to be a feeding frenzy now!”
“Oh,
Izmir!” Tobit wept unabashedly. “Someone better get here fast!”
******
It became evident to the others, after experiencing the first, second,
and third assault of spike-toes, that what they were seeing now were not merely
predators rising back on their feet or even the sporadic reinforcements drawn
to the scene, but fresh groups of spike-toes streaming en masse passed their
stunned relatives through the trees.
The sound of chirping, mewing, hissing, the crackling barrage of
electrons, and blare of panic-stricken voices over the airways, seemed
deafening to those on the bridge.
To those lost on the beaten paths, it was the heaviest of emotional
blows. The dromaeosaur, whose
fossil claws would someday send chills up paleontologists spines, were, during
the last days of the dinosaurs, equivalent to canine packs or schools of hungry
sharks, with the exception that, like cats with mice, they first played with
their food…. Now it seemed to the beleaguered teams that they were closing in
for the kill.
It was a miracle that Zorig and his teammates
weren’t torn to pieces immediately that moment. All they could do was stand their ground and fire their
useless guns. Certain that he was going to
the Outer Reaches, Zorig cursed everyone that had gotten him into this mess,
then, while firing his weapon madly, uttered the Revekian dirge. The frightened voice of his associate
and friend caused Arkru to moan loudly and shake his head. It also spurred him into moving faster
than before. He could hear Falon
from the bridge trying to bring calm into the situation, but there was
indecision in the commander’s voice.
“You
can do it lads!” he said lamely to the teammates. “Just keep on firing at them;
they’ll get the message. You fought the Old Ones. Certainly, we should be able to tame these dumb brutes!”
“Begging
your pardon, commander,” said Kogin, out of breath, “these blighters are
stubborn, but they’re anything but dumb!”
An
irrational thought entered the professor’s head as he searched the trees: they needed Rifkin. Rifkin, in spite of his
recklessness, had dared take a crawler into a dragon-infested river in order to
save his classmates. They needed
his bravery and undaunted spirit.
But then, Arkru reminded himself quickly, it was Rifkin who had caused
this disaster. None of this would
have happened if he had not gotten himself lost.
Everyone
listened from the forest and the bridge as the dromaeosaurs, whom the professor
had officially dubbed “elizom hirzolum” (spike-toes), repeatedly lunged at the
teams. Their weapons were
obviously not capable of killing these denizens and could only stun them for a
short awhile, but it was apparent to everyone by now that the nervous systems
and thick hides of the attackers were not altogether immune to their guns. They could be stopped for short periods
of time, just long enough for Zither and his teammates to regroup or grab a
second wind, yet, after a short period of unconsciousness, were back on their
legs, wobbling like crewmen drunk on Revekian beer. Now that a fresh horde of raptors were upon them, the task
was daunting.
During
this dark hour, just when it seemed to Remgen that his search was hopeless, the
first mate spotted tracks of the two previous crawlers leading sharply into the
forest and quickly swung into the opening in the trees. Like the professor, he had been
muttering deliriously to himself, and had not heard the second mate’s
harebrained plan. Upon finding the
freshly plowed path, he let out a Revekian war hoop and, without even notifying
the professor or Falon, plunged the vehicle at full speed down the trail.
“Remgen,”
Falon said, after hearing him yell, “are you listening to your radio. Imwep, Kogin and Varik are firing on
the pack. Those spike-toes won’t
give up. You’ve got to get there
before it’s too late!”
“Remgen!”
shouted Arkru angrily. “Why couldn’t you have waited? Give us some landmarks to follow. You must help us find the path!”
Shizwit
and Vimml were visibly frightened and yet Shizwit held her gun fiercely in her
little hand and Rezwit had a look of terrified determination on his face.
“Frightened
little children—all of you,” Remgen snarled into his rearview mirror. “The
whole bunch of you students aren’t worth one Imwep, Kogin, or Rifkin. Now Rifkin won’t be rescued and my
shipmates are in danger because of the stupidity of Zorig and his team!”
Remgen
announced finally to the commander and Doctor Arkru that he had found the
entrance, explaining calmly to the professor the landmarks marking the entry
point to the alternate path.
Falon, Orix, Abwur, and Eglin looked at each other helplessly, wondering
if Rescue Two and Three would reach their beleaguered shipmates in time.
“That’s
correct professor,” members of Rescue Team One and Four heard Remgen explain,
“if you hear that familiar hooting of the duckbills you’re in the right neck of
the woods. Looking toward that
volcanic neck and the more distant volcano means you’re heading in the right
direction. When you see a small
meadow to your left with a large, fallen tree in its midst, and hear the sound
of stunners in the distance, as I hear now, you’re
almost there!”
The
fact that Remgen had not waited for the professor to catch up with him caused
Arkru great agitation. After only
a few moments of searching, Dazl and Alafa helped him spot the landmarks given
by the first mate. Rescue Team Two
knew, at that point, they were on the right path.
“I’m
on my way!” Arkru exclaimed happily, the sound of his confidence filling Zorig
with hope.
Remgen
now slowed his vehicle to a crawl to allow Rescue Team Two to catch up.
******
As
Rescue Team Four’s last reserve of stunner energy poured out against the pack, they
were encouraged by Imwep, Kogin, and Varik’s help and the knowledge that both
Remgen and the professor were almost here, but they were close to
collapse. Prolonged stunner
operation required a cooling off period.
One or two more blasts from their weapons, which drew energy from the
atmosphere but would begin malfunctioning because of overuse, might very well
be their last. They could barely
hold their arms up. Their legs
seemed ready to crumble beneath them as they held their ground. Suddenly, as Remgen and Arkru’s teams
charged onto the scene, Zorig realized that there might be fifteen stunners
firing on the spike-toes, instead of only seven, not to mention the twelve
force field poles he hoped they wouldn’t have to use.
While
voices shot back and forth in their helmets, Rescue Team Four were too
exhausted to respond. All their
attention and energy remained focused upon the stunners in their hands and the
predators straight ahead.
“Remgen,
Arkru, Imwep,” Falon’s voice rang out in his old form, “state your positions.
Rescue Team Leaders One, Two, Three, and Four sound off!”
With
irritation, Remgen reported hastily to the commander “Rescue Teams Two and
Three have arrived sir and are joining the fight.”
“Did
you hear that Rescue Team Four?” cried Falon. “How are you holding up?”
“We
heard it commander,” Zorig said faintly. “Please don’t make me talk.”
“Zorig,”
Arkru exclaimed anxiously, ready to collapse himself, “don’t lose heart. Help has finally arrived!”
“Imwep and Kogin,” the commander called, “join Two
and Three in a continuous line of fire.
While the marksmen from Rescue Team One, Two, and Three fire upon the
pack, scattering predators here and there, I want their drivers to move into
position behind them to pick up survivors.”
“Survivors?”
whimpered Tobit. “I don’t like that word!”
It
struck Imwep and Kogin as bizarre that Falon was mustering his troops. Since he couldn’t see what was going
on, his commands seemed especially absurd, and yet the commander sat at the
bridge barking out orders as would a field general from distant a hill.
“Sir,”
Imwep protested, intermittently firing his weapon, “Zither and Illiakim are
still inside the vehicle in the copse.
They’re safe and sound right now.
I think we should wait until we’ve driven these blighters off before
endangering their lives.”
“Begging
the commander’s pardon,” the professor sounded out of breath, “but I’m the
driver of Rescue Team Two, and I’m
joining the fight!”
“Me
too,” snorted Rezwit, amazed at Falon’s orders.
“I’m
well aware that you’re both drivers,” Falon bristled. “I meant for the leaders
to delegate that responsibility to someone on your teams.”
“Sir,”
Dazl offered politely, “we need all the fire power we can get.”
“Imwep,”
Remgen called, taking aim and firing, “Zither and Illiakim have no protection
in there. They’re better off
helping us!”
The
professor, who was too exhausted to speak, nodded dubiously at the first
mate. Together with his team, he
joined the firing line. All of the
remaining children, including Shizwit, the Key Master, abandoned their
crawlers, moving out bravely with their guns ablaze. With the greatest of misgivings, Imwep motioned to Zither
and Illiakim, who stood peeking out of the copse, to come too. “We must drive off the spike-toes before
attempting an escape,” he explained, hastily checking their weapons to make
sure they were armed and set.
“When we have the upper hand,” he promised, turning to fire, “we’ll make
our escape!”
The
children followed the adults example and fired their weapons continuously at
the beasts. After a short
period, in which Falon was consoled by Orix, Eglin, and Abwur, the commander
bowed his head in dismay. Eglin uttered
another prayer. The crackle of
stunners could be heard on the bridge, punctuated at times by curses and gasps
from the group. A fundamental need
for video cameras to be installed on all life support helmets had been
demonstrated to the commander.
Only the professor’s specially designed helmet accommodated such a
device, and it had been left on the ship.
What had seemed like a sound and tactical maneuver on paper didn’t work
in the field, especially when the “general” was working blind.
The
adult and children’s combined efforts succeeded, after only a few moments, in
pushing the pack to the far side of the clearing, leaving countless unconscious
spike-toes lying on the ground. At
a point forever lost in the recollection of students and crewmen alike, a
signal was given by someone for Rescue Team Four to make a dash to safety. Perhaps, the commander later reasoned,
it had been mere panic that had set it off. Or perhaps, as Arkru, the defender of the students, had
suggested, it had been the fault of the adults for not having the crawlers
ready. But, the fact remained,
Zorig and his team should have waited until the crawlers were ready to move and
the marksmen were positioned inside the vehicles and were ready to give them
all cover before they escaped.
When
members of Zorig’s ill-fated team stumbled across the clearing in their bulky
suits, several of the predators, who had been knocked down by the barrage,
began rising up just in time to lunge at the escapees. At that point, Zither, who stood
closest to the copse, took the cue from Illiakim, who was running toward the
crawler, herself.
“I’ll get it started,” he cried frantically to the
others. “Illiakim, you stay with the group!”
Stumbling, then picking herself up, she staggered
frantically into the copse, shouting repeatedly “I don’t wanna die,” her voice
becoming a haunting refrain on the bridge.
Though
it seemed like retreat, Zither reached the vehicle, jumped behind the wheel,
just as Illiakim scrambled up the ladder and into the back seat. Seeing the hopelessness in Rescue Team
Four’s situation, Varik had seen his chance for glory and ran back to
commandeer crawler number one, too.
At just that moment, Zither heard that awful chirping of the spike-toes
behind the copse. Rising up on the
seat, his stunner drawn, he prayed to Izmir but also cursed Illiakim for not
coming to his aid. As he stood
frozen like a statue, gun in hand, looking this way and that, he was knocked
rudely aside by Varik, his teammate, who immediately grabbed the steering wheel
with the intention of personally rescuing Team Four.
“Are you insane?” Zither shouted, as the vehicle
lurched out of the copse.
Since it was impossible for the marksmen to fire
upon the spike-toes without hitting members of Rescue Team Four, the escapees
were forced to turn and fire occasionally at the attackers, themselves, as they
fled slowly over the ground. This
didn’t save Hobit from having his suit torn by the jaws of one of the
beasts. When Rescue Team One’s
crawler broke through the wall of ferns, it also didn’t save poor Tobit from
being immediately crushed to death.
Meanwhile Zither had fallen into the back seat, rising up fearfully
alongside of Illiakim, who was screaming at the top of her lungs. It had all happened too fast for anyone
to have seen either event occur.
To add to the confusion, as the terror-stricken and exhausted escapees
were pulled beyond the line of fire, both Remgen and the professor decided that
it was a perfect time to use the force field poles. Using the first and second mates’ stronger arms, the poles were
tossed into the space the marksmen had created with the intention to widen the
space between themselves and the spike-toes and give them more time to
escape. The blast, though not
nearly equal to the weaponry used in the Solar Wars, was substantial, not only
fragmenting several of the disoriented predators instantly, but disabling and
stunning the remainder of the pack as it huddled at the far end of the
clearing.
As Varik, Remgen, and Arkru sat anxiously behind the
wheels of crawlers one, two, and three, the survivors and marksmen were pulled
onto the vehicles. It was apparent
that the pack hunters had gotten the message hoped for by the commander, but at
a terrible cost. When the team
leaders hastily counted heads as the crawlers ambled back to the ship, Hobi lie
unconscious in Rescue Team Three’s crawler, and Tobit couldn’t be found at
all. As Kogin, Zither and
Illiakim, who sat as passengers behind Varik and Imwep, looked behind them,
they could see a most awful sight: the crushed frame of Tobit being dragged
away into the bushes by members of the pack.
“Varik,”
Zither gave a wounded cry, “you left Tobit! You must’ve run over him as he tried to climb aboard!”
“No,
no,” Varik mumbled numbly, “it can’t be!”
“He’s
dead,” Kogin said, patting Zither’s shoulder, “we can’t help him now!”
“We
must go back!” Doctor Arkru cried piteously, slumping at his wheel.
“Remgen,
sir,” Alafa said between sobs, “Hobi has been injured. He’s unconscious. Those beasties have bitten through his
suit.”
“Rescue
Teams One, Two, Three, and Four proceed to ship.” Falon came alive on the
bridge. “My condolences to you Doctor Arkru and Hobi’s friends, but I want no
more casualties out there!”
******
All
things considered, at least in the commander and his senior officers’ thinking,
the mission to save Rescue Team Four was a qualified success. Not counting Rifkin, who was merely
lost, only two shipmates had become casualties. During the discovery of Tobit’s disappearance and Hobi’s
wound, everyone had been either crying or cursing about what had happened, but
the commander was greatly relieved that the disaster had not claimed more.
As
the three crawlers hastened back to ship, silence filled the airways. The
professor had been furious with Zorig for getting them all into this mess, but
now he was just heartsick and blamed himself for setting it all in motion. Perhaps, he told himself, Falon was
right: children should not be expected to do an adult’s job. It had been Varik’s appropriation of
Zither’s crawler that crushed Tobit to death, and yet Varik had only been
trying to save Rescue Team Four’s lives.
Even though his own conduct had caused the current problem in the first
place and Varik had been directly responsible for Tobit’s death, Zorig blamed
Rifkin the most. Alafa and Ibris
quietly cursed all three of them for what happened today. No one, not even Rezwit and Vimml,
dared stick up for Rifkin now.
Gentle Tobit had died and was being eaten by alien life forms. Rifkin was, most everyone had to agree,
ultimately to blame. Zorig and
Varik had merely been bunglers along the way.
Arkru
grieved for the one dead technician and felt responsible for the seriously
injured crewman, but his chief concern was now for Rifkin, who had been totally
forgotten by everyone in the tragedy occurring today. As his shock wore off, he grew angry with Zorig for placing
them in this situation, but he didn’t have the heart to bawl him out now. That would come later aboard ship when
they were out of these dreadful suits, cleaned, and fed. Perhaps by then he would be able to look
at these crashing events logically and with an objective mind.
When
the three crawlers arrived at the ship and drove one-by-one up the ramp leading
into the decontamination chamber of the hold, no one spoke. After a hasty decontamination
made it possible for the chief medic to enter, Hobi was immediately attended
too by Eglin, with Varik assisting as a medic once more. Varik, however, was
ordered to leave, while Gennep, Hobi’s best friend, helped Eglin place the
stricken crewman into a gurney and carry him up to the infirmary. Everyone was worn out by the ordeal,
and Eglin realized his assistant was still in shock after the disaster. The process of removing their suits
after decontamination, which would have to be endured twice today, had been
especially tiresome for those shipmates emotionally shattered as well.
A
rescue team still had to go out and find Rifkin but no one was volunteering to
do so this time. Falon appeared
now in the chamber in a clean, shiny uniform alongside of Abwur and Wurbl, for
the purpose, the commander explained to Arkru, Remgen and Imwep, of
volunteering for the task. In a
corner of the room, the sixth and final crawler was already fueled and ready to
go. On its hood was the
commander’s familiar winged logo from his days as a lieutenant in the Solar
Wars. The dramatic gesture, which
infuriated the students and technicians, was merely irritating to the first,
second and third mates. The senior
officers of the ship would, Remgen, Imwep, and Kogin were quite certain, not
let their precious commander risk his life, and the commander knew very well
that they, not himself nor his irreplaceable senior officers, would go out
again today.
“Thank
you Arkru for helping to save most of my crewmen,” Falon held out his hand as
Arkru stood there with the others shivering in his undergarments. “I don’t
blame you for this disaster professor, but neither do I commend you totally for
its success. From now on I will
lead the expeditions. Orix is an
accomplished pilot and captain. I
will not allow anyone to use my position as a reason to keep me aboard
ship. You are a scientist Arkru,
not a warrior. This hostile planet
requires warriors more than explorers.”
“That’s
utter nonsense,” Rezwit muttered to Vimml.
“You
Zorig,” Falon turned to the chief technician, “behaved badly today. As a leader of a team, you have shown
unforgivable incompetence. Your
inability caused the death of one of our shipmates and injured a member of my
crew. Your guilt should be seen as
the lesser since Rifkin’s recklessness caused all this mess in the first place,
but it was your ineptitude that ultimately required a second rescue attempt.”
“What?”
Zorig’s mouth dropped in disbelief.
“Begging
the commander’s pardon,” Ibris spoke up for his leader. “No one could grieve
for Tobit more than I, but it was your precious crewman Varik who ran over my
friend. Zorig did everything he
could to save our skins.”
Pointing
to the dejected chief technician, Falon quickly countered “It was him that caused it all to happen in the
first place. If he hadn’t been so
inept, you would all still be looking for young Rifkin right now!”
Varik
stood with his helmet bowed. He
knew his recklessness had killed Tobit.
No one could feel worse than himself, and yet he felt angry that his
split decision to save Rescue Team Four was merely one point in a series of
crashing events that lead back to one source.
“We
all know who is really at fault here,” he looked up at the commander then.
“Let’s put the blame on the real cause!”
“Rifkin!”
Alafa spat.
“Rifkin!”
Remgen, Imwep, and Kogin echoed, nodding their heads.
“Yes,
Rifkin!” Varik looked defiantly around the room. “Rifkin caused all this to
happen. All Zorig and I tried to
do, in our own way, was help!”
“Silence!”
the professor cried. “Please, officers, crewmen, students, and technicians, ask
yourselves what you have to gain by casting blame. There’s enough dissention on this ship. The fact is I blame myself most of all,
but we must still nevertheless find poor Rifkin. After all, he’s only a child. Zorig is only a few years older than him; I should never
have given him such responsibility.
He’s a scientist, not an explorer.
Varik, on the other hand, is an adult. If he can’t share in the blame, perhaps he can share in the
rescue of Rifkin.”
“Yes,…
I would like to go,” Varik replied, seeing his chance to absolve himself.
“I
don’t think so,” said Falon, wagging a gloved finger at the medic. “You might
be exonerated from guilt in Tobit’s death Varik but not from the gross insubordination
and disobedience you displayed out there.”
“I
volunteer in his place,” Imwep stepped forward a pace.
“I
volunteer too,” Kogin followed suit.
Several,
though not all of those assembled, volunteered to accompany the commander,
except the professor who stood there wondering if he could make it through the
remainder of the day.
“One
thing is certain,” he finally uttered, looking forbearingly at the commander,
“you, Falon, can’t go. You’re not expendable,
and neither is our communications officer or chief cook. Please Falon, don’t jeopardize our
mission by risking your life. Let
us go out again while you man the bridge.”
Virtually
all of the commander’s officers took him aside and argued with him in hushed
tones, until he finally nodded his head and walked slowly back to the assembled
group.
“I will stay aboard ship on one
condition,” Falon bargained, walking over to take the professor’s hand. “You
must stay on board too. You look
like you’re going to drop dead, yourself, Doctor Arkru. What would happen to the scientific
collection of specimens if you died?”
“What
have I done, except place my students and the ship’s crewmen in danger?” Arkru
gave a bitter laugh. “I think I’ve made a mess of things. I wonder now if we should ever have
landed on this forsaken world.”
“You
believed in them,” declared Falon, “and they responded as explorers and
visionaries just like yourself.
You trusted them to do an adult’s task. Until now, they performed well, filling the ship’s
enclosures with alien animals and plants.
But now we’ve found a world that’s uncompromising in its bounties and
unforgiving of our mistakes. You
must take what you’ve learned to mind, not to heart. You must feel anger and frustration, not shame or
guilt. We must take the time to
design weapons that are more effective than our stunners and those
unpredictable trap poles. We must
teach this savage world that we, not they, are in control.”
As
students and crewmen rallied around their two leaders, they reached out to
grasp each other’s forearms as was the custom of their people, and a prayer was
spoken by Eglin for their fallen comrade.
A service would be held to commemorate his life, but for now there was
little time left. The crews must
go back out. This time, it was
agreed to by Arkru and Falon, only three of the remaining four crawlers—one
heading into Zone One, one heading into Zone Two and a crawler to cover both
paths—would go out one more time.
Crawler number six, the commander’s private vehicle, would not need to
go. If Rifkin was not found by
nightfall, they wouldn’t be able to go out again until tomorrow morning and by
then he would probably be dead.
Though
not everyone seemed eager to volunteer, Falon ordered them all to line up so
Eglin and Varik could make sure they were fit for duty. Also inspected was their life support
suits to insure they were functioning properly and had enough air. Afterwards, Varik made notes in his
wrist communicator on how much air they each needed and what systems needed
adjustment or repairs, and then the commander stepped forward and called out in
a marshal voice: “All those volunteering to go a second and final time to find
Rifkin step forward now!”
Imwep,
Kogin, Dazl, and Imyor all quickly stepped forward a pace. At almost the same time, Rezwit, Vimml,
Shizwit, Alafa, and Zither stepped forward too, but Illiakim and the technician
Ibris remained in place as did Varik who had been forbidden to go. Wurbl walked
over to the assistant cook Imyor and begged him quietly not to go. After listening wide eyed and tearfully
to the chef, the assistant cook bowed his head, sighed, and stepped back from
the line of volunteers. Zorig, who
felt unworthy to be part of the effort, had actually stepped several paces back
and stood forlornly in the shadows of the decontamination chamber as his
shipmates volunteered. The
professor stood between Falon and Abwur, a look of relief on his face that
Ibris had not volunteered. He
smiled with understanding at Illiakim and looked with compassion over the
students’ heads at the crestfallen chief technician. Then it dawned on him that only nine had volunteered when,
in fact, they needed twelve.
“This
is not enough,” he announced solemnly to the group. “We still have one more
crawler to fill.”
“Well?”
Falon looked at the shirkers, his insensitivity showing again. He didn’t even look at Varik or give
Zorig a glance but focused on the emotionally shattered Ibris and Illiakim. This struck the professor as absurd,
since they needed three more willing team members to fill the third crawler and
the commander and his chief cook had already eliminated two. Perhaps, he reasoned, Falon planned,
after all, to allow Abwur or himself to join in the hunt, but more likely he
wanted Varik and Zorig to stew in their own guilt awhile before allowing them
to absolve themselves in the rescue.
“I’m
waiting,” Falon folded his arms. “Does my chief cook, communication officer,
and I have to go ourselves to make up the deficit made by those too cowardly to
volunteer?”
“I’m
sorry,” the professor spoke softly to Illiakim and Ibris, “it looks as if at
least one of you must volunteer.
Varik and Zorig must be given another chance to redeem themselves with
your shipmate Rifkin. You, however,
have nothing to prove. As Falon
has made it clear, we can’t ask children to do an adult’s work and yet one more
of my children will have to go out again in place of me…. The question is who?”
“I
shall go for Tobit,” Ibris stepped forward finally, a look of resolve on his
face.
“And
you,” Arkru looked over at Varik, who nodded numbly but didn’t reply. When it came right down to it, Falon,
he knew, would not stop the medic from doing what was right.
Zorig,
who felt the most ashamed, now stepped forward as if this meant he was
volunteering to join the team. But
Arkru ignored him a moment and focused on Varik, who was being held back by the
commander’s fierce gaze.
“Well,
young lad,” he seized the young medic’s trembling hand, “you certainly acted
bravely, if not foolishly, out there.
Do you want to try one more time?”
“Yes,
professor,” he nodded eagerly, “I would be honored!”
“Very
well,” the commander acquiesced, “but I want no more heroics out there. You obey orders and stop showing off,
do you understand?”
“Yes
sir,” Varik nodded eagerly. “Thank you sir!”
Suddenly
Zorig uttered a broken cry. “I-I want one more chance…. Please professor give
me one more chance!”
“Well,
I don’t see any other volunteers,” Arkru said, almost playfully, reaching out
to motion him forward. “All right Zorig, but we’ll let only Remgen, Imwep, and
Alafa drive.”
Zorig
said nothing. Varik received an
approving nod from the commander, while the chief technician stood there torn
between guilt and fear.
“All
right,” Arkru clapped his hands at them all, “I think Remgen, Rezwit, Shizwit
and Vimml should remain teammates in Rescue Team Two. Imwep, Kogin and Zither will stay together with Ibris
joining them in place of Illiakim in Rescue Team One. Since I am not going this time, I will allow Alafa to drive
the crawler, though Zorig can still be in charge. Varik and Dazl will round out this patrol vehicle as Rescue
Team Three.”
“You
will be allowed to refresh yourselves and eat a hasty lunch,” Falon informed
them. “While you get a second wind, you’re life support systems will be checked
and cleaned. There will be fresh
canisters on your backs. I’m sorry
but you must be suited up again within the hour.”
No
one so much as groaned. They all
knew that time was working against them and that they had but a few hours of
daylight left.
“Zorig,
“ Arkru called to the chief technician as he broke ranks with the others, “go
fetch me another gas canister for Rifkin.
He’ll be running low.” “…. I know you feel badly Zorig,” he said, as the
technician returned with a canister. “None of us could have been prepared for
the dangers of this world. We have
all learned bitter lessons here on Irignum. Rifkin has learned the most bitter of them all.”
“If
not for him,” Zorig murmured stubbornly, “none of this would’ve happened!”
Patting
Zorig’s arm gently, the professor nodded but found himself incapable of
replying. Tears ran down his aged
face. He knew that, after these
perilous days, his students and technicians would never be the same. They had gained much in knowledge on
Irignum but they had lost far more than what they gained in their innocence and
trust of nature. Tobit was dead
and Hobi had been seriously injured.
He blamed himself, and no one else, for this state of affairs. Zorig, he reminded himself, was only a
few years senior to the oldest student Zither. It was not fair that he carried so much guilt when he, too,
was still a child.
Now
that he had made his magnanimous gesture, Falon, with Navigator Orix and
Communication Officer Abwur following behind, stepped out into the passageway
and returned to the bridge. As
quickly as their exhausted limbs could move, the rescuers took the elevator up
to their quarters, hastily bathed and dressed, then joined the commander, his
officers, and the professor in the dining hall for a short meal.
The
mood was both somber and reflective.
It might be, everyone agreed, the last time many of them would see each
other alive again. During their brief
lunch, Eglin came in to solemnly inform them that Hobi never regained
consciousness, which now brought the number of Revekian fatalities on Irignum
to two. They would have a special
service for their fallen comrades when the last rescue attempt was over. Everyone, especially Doctor Arkru,
prayed there would be no more souls requiring commemoration at that time.
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