Amy Thomson - Through Alien Eyes

“The jungle,” Ukatonen said.

“Ukatonen, this compound is surrounded by armed guards. How are we going to get him out of here?”

“I don’t know, but we have to.”

“We barely have a chance to get out of here with our own skins. It’ll be a whole lot harder with a hostage,” Eerin pointed out.

“I know,” Ukatonen told her, “but it is necessary.”

“Siti?” Moki said. “There are trucks here. I heard them come in the other afternoon. Maybe we can use one of them to get out of here.”

Eerin looked at him. “That’s a good idea, bai. We should move soon, before someone checks the building.”

Eerin stripped one of the guards, and put on his uniform. Then she scooped up Tomas’s comm, and slipped it down her shirt front, tucking it securely into the waistband of her pants.

They carried the unconscious Tomas to the back door [[:f]] the building.

“I’ll go first, and see if I can find a way to get out of here,” Ukatonen said. “You wait here with Tomas.”

“Be careful,” Eerin cautioned.

Ukatonen slipped out into the night. A few minutes of exploring brought him to a garage filled with trucks and cars. He crept up behind the guard and put him to sleep with a quick sting of his spurs. Then he returned to where Eerin and Moki were waiting.

“I found the garage. Let’s go.”

They carried Tomas to the garage.

“We’ll take that troop transport over there,” Eerin said, pointing at the largest truck in the garage. The back was roofed with canvas. Moki searched for the keys while Eerin and Ukatonen loaded Tomas into the back of the truck. Ukatonen climbed into the back of the truck to keep an eye on Tomas. Moki found the keys hanging on a board on the wall. He grabbed them and scurried across the garage toward the truck. Just then a pair of guards walked into the garage.

“Hey!” one of the guards shouted. “Stop, or we’ll shoot!”

“Siti!” Moki called. He deftly lobbed the keys through the driver’s window with a long-armed toss, and then leaped for the truck. Then Ukatonen saw the canvas truck roof dent as Moki scrabbled up onto the roof . There was a rumble as Eerin started the truck. Moki appeared framed in the opening at the back of the truck as he swung inside. There was a loud, sharp crack and the bami landed in an awkward heap in the back as the vehicle turned, the engine whining loudly in protest. There was the smell of blood, Moki’s blood.

Ukatonen moved toward the bami, but just then the truck surged forward, knocking him over. There was a rending crash, and then the garage receded behind them as the truck speeded up. He could hear shouting and more gunshots. There was another crash, and then Ukatonen could see the gate vanishing behind them. He heard more shots, but the bullets whined by without hitting them.

“Are you all right, Moki?” Ukatonen asked, his words glowing in the darkness.

“Something hit me, en. I’ve stopped the bleeding, but my arm’s gone numb.”

The truck was bouncing too much for them to link safely. “That’s not good. As soon as we’re safe, I’ll look at it for you.”

Moki flickered assent. The truck slowed as they rounded a sharp bend, then swerved sharply and started jouncing over rough ground. Ukatonen could hear branches crash and crackle against the canvas sides of the truck as he and Moki bounced back and forth inside. There was a sudden crunch and a metallic rending, and they slid forward, crashing into the back of the cab as the truck stopped abruptly.

The door of the cab creaked open, and Eerin got out. She climbed up on the back of the truck.

“Come on. We don’t have much time.”

Ukatonen dragged the still-unconscious Tomas out of the truck as Moki jumped out.

“Siti, I’ve been hurt,” Moki said.

“How bad is it? Do you need me to carry you, bai?”

“No, siti. It’s my arm. I can walk.”

“Good. Let’s go.”

Ukatonen swung Tomas onto his shoulder, “This way,” he said, guiding Eerin and Moki up a half-fallen tree draped with vines.

They had reached the canopy and were hurrying through the treetops when they heard the whine of approaching vehicles.

The trucks roared past. A moment later they stopped. Ukatonen could hear the grinding of the gears as they turned around.

They swung into the next tree, pausing to convey Tomas across the gap. Behind them, Ukatonen heard the trucks stop. Headlights sent splinters of light into the forest. He could hear the guards calling out orders and crashing through the underbrush toward them.

There was a heavy crack and swish as a branch fell somewhere off to their right, probably snapped as some startled animal turned and fled. The guards shouted and headed toward the noise.

“Go that way,” Ukatonen urged, pointing away from the oise. “I’ll draw them off. Go until you come to a stream, then head upstream until it branches. Wait for me there. If I’m not there in two days, go on without me.”

“Okay, en,” Eerin said, “but please, be careful.”

“I will be. Now go.”

Ukatonen settled Tomas into a secure, vine-draped tree crotch, then moved silently through the trees, moving past the guards and away from Moki and Eerin. When the guards were still a few trees away, he broke off a heavy, waterlogged bromeliad, and dropped it. It crashed noisily through the branches to the ground. The guards headed toward the sound. Ukatonen swung into the next tree, making as much noise as he could. The guards followed him with their torches and guns.

Ukatonen led them through the jungle for over a kilometer before swinging silently back around and retrieving the unconscious Tomas. He managed to carry Tomas about half a kilometer farther into the jungle, and then hid him again. Then he found Moki and Eerin’s trail and began iracking them. It was late afternoon before he found them.

“I’m worried about him. He’s lost a lot of blood, and there’s no feeling in his arm,” Eerin told Ukatonen, when he was settled in the nest she had built. There was a pale silvery cast to Mold’s skin that worried Ukatonen.

“He doesn’t look good,” the enkar agreed. “I’ll check him as soon as I’ve eaten.”

Eerin handed him a couple of pieces of overripe fruit. “I’m afraid there isn’t much to eat,” she apologized.

“I didn’t find much either,” he told her, pulling out a small bundle of wilting fern shoots and two very small fish. “I was too busy getting here to hunt.”

“Where is Tomas?” she asked.

“He was too heavy for me to carry the whole way. I left him in a tree. I’ll find some more food and check Moki, then go back and get him.”

Eerin sighed. There were dark shadows under her eyes. She looked numb with exhaustion. He touched her shoulder reassuringly, then set off to look for food.

The pickings were slim and he was tired, but eventually he came back with some small game, greens, and a few more pieces of fruit. They ate hungrily, wordlessly. Moki had lost a lot of blood. He would also lose his arm. There was little that Ukatonen and Eerin could do to help him. Their reserves had been drawn down to almost nothing. Still, there was a flicker of response. Moki would live through the night. Tomorrow, rested by sleep and restored by food, they could do more.

Ukatonen got up early the next morning and killed a sloth. He and Eerin gorged themselves on the meat. Strengthened by the feast, they were able to work on Moki. It was clear that there was nothing they could do for his arm. Ukatonen took it off, with the help of a machete that Eerin had found in the truck and brought with her. He stopped the bleeding of Moki’s stump, and helped it heal over. It would be at least a week before Moki would be strong enough to travel. With patience and careful work, the bami’s arm would grow back in less than a year.