Warren Fahy - Fragment

“Even with the brief glimpses inside the jungle that we’ve had, Mr. Pound, we’ve been able to distinguish as many as eighty-seven distinct species,” Dr. Cato said, “some of them quite large. Of the specimens we have been able to capture, many have eyes similar to those of a mantis shrimp. That means they see colors we can’t imagine, and their ability to track fast-moving prey is equally super-”

They heard the chop-chop of a Sea Osprey’s dual rotors reverberating through the walls very nearby.

Pound swung around nervously to peer through the window.

The NASA XATV-9 rover touched down on the slope with a jolt to its shock absorbers, rattling the lab.

“I’m sorry, Dr. Cato.” Pound smiled, and heaved a sigh of relief. “I’m going to have to pull rank on you. We’re going in. You’re welcome to come along, of course, as well as any of your team. I’m sure the President would appreciate all of your input.”

The tether detached from the roof of the rover as it backed up the hill on monster tires and halftracks to link up with the extending docking-tube of the lab.

Nell grabbed Pound’s arm. “You can’t go in there!”

Pound pulled his arm away, gently. “I’m afraid we have to, Doctor.”

“This place slaughtered thirteen people and a dog in less than a minute.”

He smiled. “If that wasn’t a hoax for a TV show.”

“Don’t you get what those bugs , as you call them, can do?” Nell said.

But Pound had already turned and was heading for the hatch.

She followed him. “This is an entirely alien ecosystem, at least a dozen new classes of animals. Just one of these species could probably knock the legs right out from under any common eco system, Pound. You have no idea how dangerous these species are!”

“That’s precisely why we need to find out what we’re dealing with here.”

“Sure, but this island’s been sitting here for half a billion years! What’s the rush?”

Pound turned to her, a patronizing arch in his eyebrow. “Thanks to SeaLife , everyone on Earth knows where this island is, Nell. And if these bugs are half as dangerous as you think, they could be used in biological warfare.” He smiled with chill condescension. “I’m sorry, but it’s my job to think about those things.” He turned and continued walking toward the docking hatch. “So you don’t have to!” he threw over his shoulder.

Nell watched him, incredulous. “Wait! Ham, seriously -don’t do it ! ”

The docking vestibule slowly extended to the hatch of the rover.

“Tune in on channel one, we’ll beam the camera feed back to you,” Pound called as a technician pulled the hatch open.

At the same moment, Andy entered through the hatch at the other end of Section Four and immediately waved his arms. “Hey, wait! Let me go!”

“If he’s going, I’m definitely going.” Quentin pushed in behind Andy. “I know this island’s topography better than anyone!”

“OK, you’re both in,” Pound decided. “Dr. Cato, want to come along? And really get a look at this island? You’re welcome!”

Dr. Cato glanced at Nell and was alarmed at the horrified look on her face. “I don’t think so, Mr. Pound. I think I’ll just catch a ride back to the Enterprise.”

“Wanna come along, Nell?” Andy said. “I’m sure we could use a botanist.”

Nell gripped his hand as he passed her. “You shouldn’t go, Andy!”

“I never get to go,” Andy groaned. “Besides, we’ll be safe in that thing. NASA built it.”

A sense of foreboding overwhelmed her, and she clung to his hand.

“It’s too upsetting, I understand, Nell. You stay here,” he said. “But this time I’m not getting left behind!” He pulled away.

“All aboard who are going aboard!” Pound shouted, and he thrust the hatch open.

Andy followed the others who entered the docking tube.

They closed the hatch just as Andy reached it.

“Hey!” he yelped.

The hatch opened.

“Just kidding,” Quentin told him. “Get in.”

“That isn’t funny!”

“Yes, it is.” Quentin laughed.

As Andy crawled into the docking tube a lab technician secured the hatch behind him.

Briggs opened the hatch from the section below and entered Section Four, his face grimmer than usual.

He noticed Nell at the far end of the lab. She looked grief-stricken, for some reason.

Briggs then noticed a skinny scientist next to him who was examining a drill-worm in a specimen chamber. “You brought drill-worms in here?” he growled.

“You mean Rotopodiensis taylori?”

Briggs looked at the young scientist’s name badge: Todd Taylor.

“Uh, no. I mean the things that drill through rubber, silicone, and maybe even acrylic, like your little terrarium there.” He clicked the wall of the specimen chamber with a fingernail, and the drill-worms inside immediately leaped at the noise, startling young Taylor.

“Listen up!” Briggs yelled as he walked down the aisle toward Nell. “We have to evacuate StatLab! Section One’s already compromised and Section Two is a lost cause.”

“We can’t go yet,” Nell protested.

Briggs faced her. “Why not?”

She pointed out the window as the rover charged down the slope.

“Great,” grumbled Briggs. “Just what we needed…”

Otto switched to channel one and brought up Zero’s video feed on the screen as the rover barreled straight toward the jungle.

“Check it out,” Otto yelled. “We got front row seats to Henders Island!”

Zero had both his video cameras trained through the bubble window of the XATV-9. The rover crew leaned forward instinctively, grabbing handholds.

“I don’t think we should just blast in like this,” Andy shouted.

The driver paid no attention. If anything, he seemed to accelerate.

The XATV-9’s cowcatcher grate bashed into the forest. It wedged open the trees at its edge, throwing the five men forward against their shoulder harnesses as the towering sections of the cactuslike trees snapped apart and thudded over the roof, spraying blue fluids.

“No worries. That’s ten-inch-thick acrylic,” the driver assured them. “These windows are designed for submarines.”

“That’s good, ’cause we’re about to punch through into the first corridor,” Quentin muttered as trees continued to fly apart around them.

“Slow down!” Andy yelled.

The rover muscled forward, its massive tires and rear halftracks digging in and thrusting them through the dense undergrowth. They heard branches snap and thud against the sides and roof. Sagging clusters of berries dropped from the trees and splattered turquoise, yellow, and magenta juice across the bubble windows as the rover finally started to slow down.

Knocking aside the last few branches, the rover finally broke into an open corridor inside the jungle and came to a stop.

“How’s this?” asked the driver.

Quentin grinned. “Perfect.”

The tunnel lined by trees extended in a long arc toward them and curved out of sight in the other direction. The rover had pierced an elbow of a winding corridor.

A tornado of creatures chased one another through the tunnel from right to left, curving around a banked corner in front of them and launching down the corridor to their left before swerving out of sight around a forked bend.

As the torrent of animals whipped past the rover’s windows, some snatched berries or eggs off tendrils that hung down from the dense canopy. Others became ensnared in the tendrils, which reacted like tentacles, jerking their victims up into the treetops.