Alien Courage (Rise of the Empress) (45 page)

Peter stared into Toormis’s eyes and did not blink. I
heard you call me Peter earlier, so I am Peter,” he replied and with ease
slipped from Toormis’s grip and headed off toward the end of the valley.

Toormis looked at the Administrator and for the first
time since Cassy was taken, smiled. “I will hold you personally responsible for
his behaviour,” he said pointing to Peter.

“Oh no you won’t!
I think we have a very clever but crazed killer with
amnesia who can see like a scanner,” the Administrator said as he started off
after Peter but turned to speak to Toormis as they ran. “I wouldn’t go
upsetting him, he killed fifty six cadets and then went to sleep; and you just
saw what he can do out here with one of these,” he said holding up his ancient gun.

The smile disappeared from Toormis’s face but he moved
a little closer to the Administrator then grinned. “You Norfians are so damned
serious.” Both men increased their pace to catch up to Peter.

Peter stopped at the end of the valley. He found a deep
split in the rock and he threw into it the jacket, boots and other valuables he
took off the dead Beclin. He looked over the gun carefully and decided to keep
it. He checked its load and slung it over his shoulder. “Anyone
want
his knife?” he said offering the blade to the other two
who had just caught up with him.

“Toormis shook his head indicating no but the
Administrator steeped forward and took the blade. He looked at the well worn
primitive knife. He knew the steel was Confederate in origin but it held a
fascination for him. He slipped it into a sleeve he noticed sewn into the
lining of his right boot. Peter nodded and turned slinging his other gun and
started climbing the rocky cliff face.

“Oh no!”
Toormis said as he saw Peter go up the cliff like a
mountain goat.

“I think he has the best idea where to go. I lost the
trail totally after the place where he shot that man,” the Administrator said
slinging his gun and testing his grip against the icy rocks then pulling
himself upwards.

“Yes. I understand now. That group knew it was being
followed and turned off up the rocks to lose us. Good spot back there to set up
an observation post or ambush while we looked around in circles for their
trail. This Peter is really something else; glad he’s on our side.” Toormis
said straining against the slippery rocks.

“Come on.” Peter spoke urgently from above. From his
vantage point Peter saw low dark clouds moving quickly towards them. He didn’t
know this country but instinct told him to seek shelter now or they’ll soon be
in serious trouble. He felt the first of the icy gusts from the weather front
almost upon them.

Peter reached the top of the cliff and scouted the
other side and saw it was heavily treed and too exposed to weather out the
storm. He ran back to the cliff and grabbed Toormis and heaved him over the
ledge.

“Wait on Peter, I was…”

“Look!” Peter shouted and Toormis turned to face where
Peter was pointing. Dark grey clouds raced towards them almost blocking out all
light. Toormis instantly dived back and grabbed the Administrator whose head
just came into view. He protested being manhandled but ceased when the wind
blew him flat to the ground along with Toormis and Peter.

The three men scrambled to their knees and put their
backs to the wind. Snow was coming in horizontally and the temperature
plummeted. Peter uncoiled a leather rope he had around his belt and tied one
end to a loop in his belt. He grabbed the Administrator and threaded the end of
the rope through his belt and tied a half hitch. He grabbed Toormis by the
shoulder and pulled his head towards his mouth. “Tie this to yourself and
follow me!” Peter shouted placing the rope end under Toormis’s belt.

Toormis tied it off and shouted back. “We can’t stay
here!”

Peter keeping the wind at his back grabbed the
Administrator by the jacket and dragged him along with Toormis holding the
other side of the Administrator’s jacket. The wind and driving snow reduced
visibility to nearly zero but Peter manoeuvred between the trees as if he knew
where he was going.

They allowed the wind to push them along but they fell
often. Their teeth chattered with the cold now well below freezing. Peter felt
the ground dropping away downhill. He didn’t like to push forward down the
slope for fear of a cliff; he could not see more than a few inches in front of
his face. As soon as he felt the wind lesson on his back he knew he was below
the hill line, he turned and scrambling sideways pulled the Administrator and
Toormis parallel to the hill line, the wind screaming above their heads.

Peter suddenly hit something solid. It was a huge
fallen tree. It was quite old and had been dead for some time. Ignoring the
tangling branches which snapped off easily he made his way to the tree’s base.
Just beyond that was the huge hole and undercut behind the tree’s root ball.
The three men crawled nearly blind into the huge hole and immediately out of
the wind and driving snow. They collapsed against each other and immediately
huddled to ward off the cold. Soon they fell asleep exhausted.

Later, the Administrator stirred uncomfortably as he
realised he had a stick wedged under his leg. He moved his arm and stretched to
get his hand to it and managed to break it. The pressure was relieved and he
squirmed to get himself comfortable. He felt uneasy and uncomfortable wishing
he could wash but something made the hairs on the back of his neck stand on
end. He brushed the snow and ice off his hat blocking his eyes and looked into
the whiteness. The weather front had passed and the Administrator saw the snow
covered roots from the tree. He pulled his hat from his face and opened his
eyes fully. He saw through the roots down the tree trunk and something moved.
He sat bolt upright as he realised something was looking back at him.

Peter was pushed into Toormis by the Administrator’s
movement when he sat up and Peter squirmed to untangled himself. Toormis sat up
and hit his head on a tree root poking out of the lip of the hole. He swore a
curse and rubbed his head.

“Be quiet Toormis,” hissed the Administrator. His
intensity caught Peter’s attention who noticed he was sitting up with his eyes
fixed looking forward. Peter sat up and in doing so placed his hand over
Toormis’s mouth who was about to say something.

Peter moved his head slightly to look through the
roots and froze with fright. A sabre tooth tiger! Terror flashed through his
mind, they’re extinct, and he knew that! But there he sat in a hole in the snow
staring down a tree trunk as a huge cat with enormously long curved fangs and
clouds of vapour steaming out of its semi open mouth with each breath as it was
making its way cautiously toward him. The cat had its full attention on the
source of the scent at the end of the tree. Its massive paws moved with certainty
as it weaved its way through the branches.

“Shoot the thing,” Toormis whispered urgently.

All three men groped around for their guns which were
at their feet just out of easy reach. Peter moved his body forward and strained
to get a gun and the cat saw the movement and leapt through the branches
landing on the other side root ball and roared. The three men instinctively
slammed the backs against the back of the
hole
trying
to get away.

Peter slowly took his hand out of his glove and
uncorked a powder horn by his side. He allowed the powder to pour into his hand
and in one fluid motion threw the powder towards the cat and into the mass of
roots. Peter moved quickly forward picking up the nearest gun and immediately
cocked it and rammed the gun sideways into the root ball and pulled the
trigger.

The cat saw the movement and leapt onto the root ball
and struck blindly downwards, a powerful claw grazed Peter’s forehead hooking
and removing his fur hat. At the same time a brilliant white flash erupted in
the root ball as the flash from the breech of the gun ignited the powder on the
root ball followed by the loud ‘CRACK!’ from the discharging gun.

The cat leap off the tree with a tremendous roar and
disappeared into the wilderness, Peter’s hat still attached to its paw.

Peter stood up and looked around. Blood trickled down
his face from a scratch but it quickly froze. He quickly pulled a smaller skin
hat from his leather pack and placed it on his head. He saw different images in
his mind and distinctively heard the terms, ‘Lord Ambrae’ and ‘seek program
Irrimus administration.’

Toormis and the Administrator stood up and retrieved
their guns. Toormis handed Peter his spare gun. “That was some cat. First I
have seen in the flesh. A lot bigger than I imagined.”

Peter turned to face Toormis, “what does, Lord Ambrae,
seek program Irrimus Administration mean?”

Toormis put his gun under his arm and gripped Peter
with two hands. “Peter? Where did you hear that?” he asked sincerely.

The Administrator grasped Peter’s shoulder, “please,
where did you hear that?” he pleaded.

Peter brushed the hands off him and climbed out of the
hole. He stood on top of the root ball and looked back at the two below. “I
don’t know. When the cat was close and I thought he would jump in with us those
words came to mind. It’s time to go. I get the feeling I know the direction
they want us to follow. We’ll head the opposite way and try to pick up their
trail. Even a local would have to have hole up for that storm.” Peter said and
jumped down off the tree and made his way north.

The Administrator grabbed Toormis who was putting
dried food into his mouth. “This is bigger than we imagined Toormis. We cannot
let anything happen to Peter.”

Toormis laughed spitting particles of food everywhere.
“And how do you suggest we do that? Look! He’s gone.” He said scrambling out of
the hole and running off after Peter. The Administrator shook his head with
disbelief as Peter was now nearly out of sight over a hundred yards away. He
climbed out of the hole and ran off after Toormis.

Peter went straight to the high ground which was at
the top of a sharply pointed knoll. The knoll was dwarfed by the massive line
of mountains further to the north and many more in every point of the compass
but obscured by the perpetual clouds and snow of Zion. He climbed a tree to get
an even better view of the country before him. Both the Administrator and
Toormis huddled behind the base of the tree out of the wind.

Toormis’s endless optimism waned in the brutal cold.
“This planet is the most inhospitable place I have ever been. I have no idea
how Cassy is, and how she must be getting on. This place,” he said looking
around and pulling his fur hat tighter over his already covered head, “is the
perfect graveyard.”

The Administrator who was huddled against him for
mutual warmth and protection pulled his arms tighter around himself. He thought
about replying but was too cold to be bothered. He closed his eyes and tried to
imagine something warm.

Peter from his vantage point studied the country.
Without thinking or remembering anything, he saw a plan of action materialise
in his mind with such clarity and dominance he immediately accepted the
simplicity of it and started climbing down. He knew exactly which direction to
go and how far. The weather, he concluded was the only real problem he couldn‘t
immediately use to his advantage. The enemy he knew would kill them if they had
the opportunity; he didn’t consider that a problem but an asset, they were
predictable. His only real worry he concluded was recovering Cassy quickly
enough, the enemy’s plans were not a certainty in this circumstance. A prisoner
would be nice, he thought.

Peter joined the others and knelt close to them out of
the wind. He pulled out a small sack of dried food and took a mouthful followed
by a swig of water from his leather bladder. “We head that way,” he said
pointing. “Mark our position on your navigational instruments. This location is
within one half day’s hard hike back to base and is an easily seen land mark as
is the location of the base.” He pointed and both men turned to see the massive
mountain where the space dock was dug into solid rock. “We have, I believe one
possibly two days hard march to pick up their trail. They know they are being
hunted and will use speed and distance to lose us. Let’s go.” Peter
straightened his coat and jogged off heading northwest. Toormis and the
Administrator were too tired and cold to question his orders and dragged
themselves to their feet and with numb bodies followed him.