James Scotson - Planets Falling

Fen rose angrily. “I assure you that my brother did not consider this world a riddle or joke. He was very serious about this place. He believed that it had the potential to transform life in the galaxy.”

Iggy stepped forward. “Excuse me, but we — have so — daylight. I suggest we — forward.” His/her transmission was crackling but still somewhat understandable.

Grey was amused. “By all means, Ig, lead the way.”

The slope was inclining and the crew swooned in the oppressive air, despite their climate suits. Only Iggy seemed to be unaffected by the environment.

“Iggy, how are you managing?” Minns was sweating, fat globes adhering to her forehead. “You’re happy as a clam, aren’t you?”

“I am — well, Ms. Minns. My body temperature depends to — extent — the environment. The warmth and humidity — stimulating to me.” Sheit stopped and began taking yet another sample.

“Is it my imagination or is the haze thickening?” Fen asked.

Iggy responded. “My gear — fifteen percent increase — humidity and — upswing in suspended organic particles.”

After several more kilometers, they stopped to rest and eat. Minns looked puzzled. “Has anyone seen Rhodes? About twenty minutes ago he stopped to take a leak. I thought he’d caught up. But there’s no sign of him.”

Fromer frowned. “I will go back with Verat and see if we can find where he his. Do not move from here until we return.”

Verat looked at Minns. “Mind if I take one of your weapons? If I get separated from Fromer, I’d like to have a fighting chance against the ghosts — pirates, whatever.”

Fromer shrugged. “Minns, please give Verat one of your side arms. Verat, do you know how to use this?”

“Sure do. I love shooting things. Grey’s my next target.”

They vanished in the haze.

Verat ran to keep pace with Fromer. Fromer bounded over boulders; Verat scrambled. The heat in Verat’s suit was building faster than it could be eliminated. Thoughts flooded his mind. Look at me, a steamed vegetable. Why did I let Grey get me into this mess? Something is seriously wrong with this place. I bet Rhodes went back to the camp. Why is Fromer moving so fast? How does he do that?

Verat fell back in a puddle of slop, heaving. “Fromer, stop. I need a rest.”

A thin breeze grazed the nape of his neck. Fromer appeared, as if he formed instantly from the haze. Verat gasped. “God, Fromer. You scared me. I’m going to have an embolism if you keep pushing me this way. I don’t have your hyped up metabolism. Take it easy.”

“Rhodes may be in distress. We have no time.”

“Fromer, do you know something that we don’t?”

Fromer paused, considering what he should divulge. “That being that we saw at the shuttle? I know who he is — or was. He was once my friend and he is very, very dangerous.”

“Was? Is everyone losing their minds? Fromer, of all the sentients on Platform, you’ree the one that I always felt some admiration for. Now you’re talking about a living being in the past tense? What’s happening here?”

“I cannot say. But if Mup is alive, then we all need to be afraid. Please keep your wits about you.”

“Now Fromer, you know I always have some wit hanging around me.” Verat stood slowly.

Something moved — slid — in the mist behind Fromer.

Fromer swept around, his lancet appearing from nowhere. Its green glow was dampened by the organic mist.

“What the hell was that?” Verat’s sweat iced over.

“I do not know. That was not a hybrid — Mup. It sounded like a large animal with no legs. It is locomoting by undulating on the ground. I would surmise it is a snake or a large worm.”

“That’s even more impossible than seeing dead people. No multicellular life should be on the planet. We’re not due to introduce any animals on Nine for another twenty years.”

“Something very large is out there. I suggest we contact Gorian. She can send a drone here. It can use sonic imaging to tell us what is down here. How many as well.”

“Fromer, please don’t tell me you think there is more than one out there.”

“I do. And they are watching us.”

Gorian was chewing her nails. Her overbearing, loudmouth mother was still sitting there in her head telling her to stop that nasty habit. That internal voice made her want to bite them more — to the quick. The gooey haze of Nine penetrated all of her pores, not just physically but psychologically as well. The place was beyond oppressive. And they think that people will want to settle here?

Of course, in a couple hundred years, most of the goo would be converted to plants and animals. The sun would shine. And the sky would be clear and blue. But in this drab, beige state, it was impossible for her to believe. She didn’t have the patience of a biologist. She needed to engineer the solution now. Why work on things that would not mature until you are bones and only a distant memory? Instant results made her happy. This place did not.

She pulled her drones from their boxes and began prepping them for their trans-planet flights. Her metallic insects, ready to do her bidding now, not later. They gleamed, steel blue against a bland backdrop. Tiny optical ports rotated and focused on her face. These were her children. She smiled at them, and gave one a reassuring pat. Another was smudged. She polished it with her sleeve before setting it down on her table.

“You’ll do a great job out there. Come back to me safe.”

For a moment, she thought one of the drones answered her. It was the tinny voice of Verat on the comm band, too garbled to understand. She lowered the bandwidth and boosted the signal by switching to text communication.

Gorian com: VERAT, CANNOT USE VERBAL. PLEASE SWITCH TO TEXT. OVER.

A few seconds passed — more garble on the transmission. Then Verat figured it out.

Verat Comm: GORIAN. RHODES AWOL. FROMER & I SEARCHING. IS HE AT CAMP? PLEASE SEND DRONE TO OUR APPROXIMATE LOCATION. UNKNOWN LIFE HERE. NEED IMAGE AND NUMBER AROUND US. OVER.

Gorian stared at the screen, mouth agape. She tore the edge of her thumbnail off and spit it out. She began typing in earnest.

Gorian comm: VERAT. RHODES NOT AT CAMP. WILL SEND DRONE IMMEDIATELY. OUT.

Gorian sent a series of messages from her data tablet to drone number one. The metallic bug responded with a lurch, buzzing and hovering in front of her. She gave her tablet a final tap and the drone shot into the muddy fog. Imagery from the drone streamed onto her screen. Only swirling chocolate milk was visible. To compensate for the radio interference, she reduced the quality of the video. It came in waves as isolated frames. Better than nothing. The drone recorded everything, so she could review it later.

She released the other drones and focused her attention on number one. She flipped on the sonar tracking and turned off the video. Using the same echolocation tactics that earth bats use, she directed the drone’s vision through the haze. She identified shapes on the ground as rocks and gullies. As she neared the location where Rhodes disappeared, she slowed the drone and increased resolution and magnification. She spied movement on the ground. It was a single humanoid figure crouching next to a large boulder. Around the figure — Rhodes she surmised — were what appeared to be long vines about twice the width of a person. As the drone circled sending stuttered pictures to her, it was quite clear that the vines were changing shape and closing in on Rhodes. She spat another nail in the dirt and typed.

Gorian comm: RHODES IN TROUBLE. 500 FEET SW FROM YOU. CREATURES IN VICINITY. OVER.

Verat comm: WE R SURROUNDED TOO. CANNOT SEE THEM. USING GUNS TO KEEP BACK. CANNOT CONTACT RHODES. OUT.