Crucible of a Species (37 page)

He sat up as memories flooded back,
I should be outside!

Martel noticed faint reflections of moving water flowing through the darkness across a rock-strewn floor. There were no plants here but up ahead, where the light entered, there were ferns, vines and flowers. He forced himself to stand and stumbled over rounded rocks lying along the water’s edge.

Passing a rocky outcrop revealed a magnificent vertical slit of green and blue cutting the far wall. His eyes slowly resolved a green jungle topped by a beautiful deep blue sky framed within this strange slit.

The sergeant limped carefully around the bend only to stop and stare at the beauty of the cavern. The waters flowed from some unseen tunnel in the darkness behind him. As they passed, they took on a dark green inner illumination that fired the depths of a large pool like the sparkling light of a sunbeam passing through a gemstone.

The stream flowed into the center of the cavern’s high vault ceiling through which other waters were falling. A broad shaft of falling water almost filled the opening as it cascaded in from some unseen source above before crashing down a stone face into the glowing pool. The pool emptied out the slit in the opposite wall of the cavern; the outside world. Moss, ferns and vines filled the water’s exit as though the foliage was seeking entry into the cool moisture of the grotto.

Recognition struck him, These are lava tubes. I’ve been travelling through an ancient lava tube that joined others to channel the flow of waters from the mainland above.

A chill ran through him but he had left his shirt behind. Then he remembered his rifle.

The marine waded over to the base of the waterfall but didn’t see his weapon on the rocks or under the clear waters. He looked around the sun-lit cliffs knowing the cave had to be up there behind the falling waters but could not see any openings. It would be an impossible climb for his present physical state.

Sgt. Martel worked his way over to the slit that promised freedom. He had lost his Pulsar, shirt and even the belt to his pants but all he wanted was to be out of this cavern. Once again, he’d have to enter the chilling waters and swim since the stream filled the opening in the rock. Carefully Martel slipped over the rocks of the frigid stream and the currents carried him out into bright sunlight.

Near the bank, his feet sank into a soft bottom. Grabbing a few of the overhanging ferns, he scrambled up and, finally resting on a soft shore, the sergeant collapsed into the warm dry grass. Martel rolled onto his back and stared at the clear blue sky for a moment before closing his eyes to soak in the warmth. One last thought passed through his mind before he sank into a welcome slumber, he’d made it.

The sergeant slept peacefully, too tired to worry or care about the world around him. He awoke to a warming sun and every breath of fresh, clear air strengthened his heart. Birdsong and the soft sound of a warm breeze flowed across the sparse grass of the lush jungle panorama.

Then reality hit him. Martel sat up and looked around. I’m not out of this yet. This isn’t Kansas and the birdsong is most likely some predator looking for their next meal.

The rocks high above channeled the falling waters through an ages-old, worn cleft. According to the sun’s position, it was past noon and the plateau would soon be casting its long shadow across the valley as the sun passed behind the high cliffs.

Cheez, I’m back on the floor of the valley. Same damn place as before. Martel considered this for a few moments before the realization stuck him. The river flows west to east down here and the Sun’s setting behind the cliffs. That means I’m on the opposite side of the peninsula and there’s no known trail leading up from this side.

Martel knew he couldn’t expect help. He wouldn’t be down here now if they didn’t have their own problems up on the plateau. Besides, no one would dream to look for him down here.

No visible trails followed the face of the cliff but the stream had to lead down to the river. He could follow it until he reached the end of the peninsula and then cut across and look for the trail they had taken yesterday. Unfortunately, water attracts animals and the sergeant no longer had his rifle.
I’m a regular Alley Oop caveman, all I’ve got to defend myself is a stick and my pants.

Steve looked around and then chuckled to himself in grim humor as he started down the path.
Great, can’t even find a decent stick.

It felt good to be walking on firm soil and under a warm sun. The pathway following the stream led through open fields, palms and eventually into a grove of hardwood trees. Martel’s eyes raced across some young trees at the edge of the wooded area. It felt awkward to be walking without something in his hands.

Flies buzzed around his head and the change to a wooded environment brought with it more of the pesky, blood-sucking insects. He’d have to think about some protection for his back and a cover for his head.

Martel’s eyes settled on a green sapling. It looked like a hardwood, perhaps ash. The stiffness of the ash caused his thoughts to race beyond that of a primitive stick to more advanced weaponry.
A bow and arrow would do just nicely
, he thought as he tried to flex the small tree.

Cutting the tree should be easy; he still had his combat knife. He’d thought about ditching his web belt many times while crawling through the tunnels but now was glad he hadn’t. Martel expected a few problems, such as notching the green wood of the arrows without splitting the thin shafts. He’d also have to get a vine that would be both thin and strong enough for a bowstring.
Let’s tackle one problem at a time. Sure wish my boots had shoestrings like the old ones used to.

Removing the thin branches from the main shaft, Martel noticed a cluster of branches near the stick’s end that formed a knurled cusp of wood. The shape struck him as familiar, where had he seen that before?

It looks like an atlatl throwing stick! This will make a good atlatl. Things are definitely looking better.

Humanity’s first weapon was an all-wood spear. Their second weapon was the atlatl and its use persists today in many parts of the world. An atlatl, or spear thrower, is an ancient weapon capable of throwing six-foot spears at nearly 150 miles-per-hour. Man’s use of the atlatl precedes that of the bow. The weapon was capable of launching a spear with enough force to penetrate a mammoth’s tough hide. A small wicked smirk appeared,
Worked with a mammoth, should work with a dinosaur.

The weapon consists of three components; a hook, a handgrip and the spear. The inch thick branch he had just cut would be perfect for the atlatl or throwing handle. He trimmed the branch just below the knot of smaller branches that formed the cusp until a single wooden finger projected back towards the grip like a bent finger on the tip of your arm. This was the throwing handle with the hook at its tip.

He now needed a longer shaft to make the spear. It had to be stiff and straight but it still had to be able to flex when thrown or it would not launch correctly. Luckily, there were a number of young hardwood trees around and he easily found one just a bit thicker than a half inch.

While sharpening one end of the spear he thought about the last item, fletching. He needed to have some feathers, bark or cloth. Unlike an arrow, the fletching on an atlatl spear, or dart, do not act as vanes, they’re needed for wind resistance. The fletching slows the back end so that the point stays forward. Many of the dinosaurs seemed to have a feather-like covering so he was confident he’d find some eventually. However, some tightly wound scraps of grass and thin vines would suffice until then.

A small dimple carved into the end of the shaft behind the fletching acted like the notch in an arrow but would be less prone to splitting of the dowel. The tip of the wooden finger fits into this dimple to grab the spear.

The final feature would be a strap of leather for a finger hold on the grip but that could also wait until later. He’d eventually make stone tips for the spears or maybe he would simply fire-harden the end.

Now to try it.
The marine stood up and grabbed the end of the handgrip with the small wooden finger, or peg, sticking out above his fist. Placing the point of the dart on the ground, he fit the atlatl peg into the small notch on its end. He then used his thumb and index finger to grip the dart.

Putting his left foot forward he pointed at a log with his left arm while bringing the grip hand back to his ear so that he could sight along the long shaft of the spear. Leaning back, he threw the spear as though he were throwing a ball overhand while putting his whole body into the motion.

As his arm came forward, the dart leaped from his fingers. The peg of the atlatl lifted the shaft as though his arm was suddenly a yard longer. The shaft accelerated so hard it flexed as he released it and the release from bending added even more speed and power to the launch. Even though he hadn’t thrown hard, the shaft sailed out and into the distant woods with incredible force.

Hmm, thought I was aiming for the log. Guess I need a little more practice.

Martel stared off into the trees hoping to see the wayward dart and his eyes locked on an image down along the stream. He reacted immediately by dropping the atlatl and sliding into the surrounding high grass and froze as the head of a large tyrannosaur lifted above the trees for a moment and then disappeared.

Martel couldn’t believe his luck, the monster hadn’t seen him. Only one thought came to mind,
I’ll also need a few more spears.

*~~*~~*~~*

What remained
of the first body they encountered lay wedged head-high between the lower branches of a tree at the edge of the woods. Col Daniel Drake motioned for a flag to mark the site. The wooded area harbored a grisly scene of a very one-sided conflict and the humans had not been on the winning side.

Bodies lay strewn across the wooded floor, not all of them were human. Groans, calls for help and piteous sobbing blended with the wheezing rumble of huge predator lungs and strangely gargling whistles providing an unnatural aural background to a woodland recently filled with birdsong.

Isolated bursts of fire echoed through the trees. They occurred often at first but gradually fading away as wounded dinosaurs were put down. The humans here managed a weak resistance. As in most battles, the number of wounded and maimed greatly exceeded the number of dead. However, most of the wounds were severe and too many injured would not survive.

Sgt. Marshall arrived with two medical teams and additional security, “Glad to see you alive and kicking, sir. Things are under control back at the Argos.

Drake replied, “Whoever pulled down the AutoSentinel defenses is responsible for this. See me when you’re done. I have something very important I want you to do after you get back. We’re gonna end this right away.”

Deep inside the Argos
, a snake-like undulating, black shadow extended across the deck out from the webway and flowed directly down a side hall to the door of a small auditorium. If a crewmember had paused to examine the apparition, they would have seen a horde of nearly microscopic robots swarming in a silent choreography of diminutive workers attacking a line of mud irreverently deposited across the decking of the ship.

Ant-like synthetic beings removed debris, piece by tiny piece, carrying it out of the corridor to some unseen destination while others meticulously polished the desecrated floor plates. Each independent automaton following its programmed function while dancing in unison with the multitude. They formed a hive of concentrated industry, ever aware of their environment and able to disperse into wispy tendrils to avoid the heavy footfalls of a passing human before returning to the focused completion of the group’s single unified task.

The inside of the auditorium formed an amphitheatre and the continued trail of muddy prints led down to its center where four people sat in animated conference. The humans ignored the silent entry of the swarm, focusing instead on the vivid simulacrum of an area of the plateau at the center of the chamber.

An agitated Colonel Daniel Drake addressed the leaders of the expedition. As the colonel droned through his status update, Captain Adrian Lee’s attention roamed over each of the other managers in the room before coming to rest on Dr. Phillip Nolen. The doctor had all but withdrawn from the group lately. The man’s demeanor left little to hide and Adrian could easily see that something was bothering him. Even now, Nolen sat tensely forward in his chair as he listened to the colonel. His feet shuffled incessantly as though he wanted to interrupt the discussion.

Nolen had made it plain at the start of the meeting that he wasn’t interested in their “animal” problems so his current behavior puzzled the captain. Why was Nolen reacting so intently to the colonel’s presentation?

Dr. Thompson sat next to Nolen. Adrian noticed that he also stared unhappily at his colleague. The interactions of the two scientific leaders had been very heated in recent meetings even though they remained polite and professional at all times, or at least Thompson did, but the growing rift between them was obvious to all, even the crew.

Colonel Drake showed no awareness of any of these interactions in his audience as he forged onward in his summarization of the expedition’s status. The colonel stressed more immediate problems as he pointed at a pack of diminutive dinosaurs rooting through a sandy mound. Several placards floated above the scene explaining each animal’s exact location on the plateau, its true size and species as it moved about.

According to the colonel, the pack’s continued presence within the camp served to illustrate the seriousness of their position, “We are now certain that Ship’s Services Technician Cyndi Stewart was the saboteur responsible for this disaster. Our people found a nanobot dispersal casing in the brush where two of our AutoSentinel towers were destroyed. “Unfortunately, shortly after releasing the nanobots, she encountered a pack of troodon and did not survive the meeting so we may never know her real thoughts.

“Ms Stewart had strong ties to the Earth First Conservancy and was active in the organization for years. We knew about her affiliation just as we know about several others who sympathize with the goals of this society. Earth First is not a terrorist organization.

“A search of Ms Stewart’s quarters and personal cyber-accounts has shown that she also belonged to a radical branch of the group that sometimes chose extreme actions to accomplish their goals. After decoding some communications she was storing, we identified several individuals who share these extreme sentiments.

“Security is questioning some of these people as we speak and we will be expanding the search to include any others with similar sentiments. I intend to convene a military court to bring any who harbor such sentiments to justice as quickly as possible. I will keep you informed of our progress.

“A small bit of good news. The ground and drone survey of the camp is complete. The attack on the camp was conducted by several packs of albertosaurs intermixed with many smaller scavengers that I’m told are called troodon.

“All of the albertosaur packs have been driven back onto the mainland. Four small packs of troodon are still roaming the peninsula; this drone image is the largest group. Their removal, for the near future, is low priority since the animals will not be a problem as long as people do not travel alone.

“Unexpectedly, we’ve learned that our AutoSentinel security systems are responsible for drawing these predators to us. The attraction is so strong that they have left their customary hunting grounds and are now concentrated into a tightly packed congregation immediately in front of our defenses. They aren’t dumb animals. They quickly learned to keep their distance from the AutoSentinels even while being drawn directly to them. Unfortunately, we have no short-term alternative but to continue to use the automated defenses.

“In spite of having eliminated so many of them, predator density outside of the berm remains high and continues to grow. This means that our defenses are depleting the surrounding area of high-end predators and concentrating them in the small area just outside the defensive berm.

“Pack hunters are highly territorial. My concern is that these animals are under stress because they are crowded into this small area. The close proximity of so many predators makes them more dangerous and unpredictable than they would be in their own habitat.

“Eventually, tensions in the predators will reach a critical level and may result in another failure of the barrier defense. We must find a solution to this problem and complete our repairs or consider leaving as soon as possible, the latter naturally being an impractical course of action.

“Casualties; of our crew of four hundred and seventy nine, we have sustained a loss of ninety-three people killed including the saboteur. An additional one hundred seventeen remain on the injured list and are temporarily relieved of duty. Twenty-three crewmembers remain missing. Every single fatality and all but three of those injured are the result of the actions of sabotage. Sabotage is something we cannot ignore and, in response to this, we have allocated critical resources to continue the investigation.

“Our functional crew is down to half of the original complement so the workload is going to be greater for all of us. Unfortunately, the consensus is that the meat of the predators is not palatable and I’m told that some of them are even poisonous. This means we need to continue gathering food from outside the camp unless we can find a way to stomach the meat that comes from these predators. I suggest we push repairs while instituting moderate rationing.”

Dr. Nolen shivered in excitement as he stood and leaned forward over the railing. “My God, don’t any of you see the solution? This has been exactly my position.” Nolen shouted, “We do not need to bring the Argos back up to its original performance levels. We could leave immediately. The outside hull is repaired so your objections to returning are no longer valid.”

“Doctor Nolen,” Drake returned. “We still have our original objective and that does not include running back home with our tail between our legs and leaving the mission a failure.”

Nolen wasn’t put off by the colonel’s comment, “True, we have not flown to Tau Ceti but look around you. Look where we are and what we have learned. If we continue on this insane quest we may never return and this information will be lost.”

“I have the last say in this matter.” The colonel stared directly into the eyes of the science director while motioning Dr. Thompson to sit back in his seat, “I have always asked for your input but you seem to have lost sight of the reason for this expedition. Please recall that we are commanded to take this ship to Tau Ceti. An Asteri command is not one we can ignore or take lightly.

“Michael,” Captain Lee addressed the physicist in an attempt to defuse the meeting. “Is there any hope of pushing up the research involved with improvement of the security sensors?”

“We were making progress, Captain, but both of the engineers I had assigned to the project were injured. We will need some test subjects. Colonel, could the marines capture some of those troodon alive?”

“Yes, we’ll corral one of the packs. We eventually have to remove them anyway; it’s a security issue.

“Adrian, how is the Argos.”

“No change in status. I’m relieved to say that even the big tyrannosaurs left the ship alone. I still need a final report on specific losses in personnel to see how much they impact the ship’s performance but I expect we’ll be able to make adjustments for any situation in the near term.”

“Well, that’s one bit of good news. We have a lot of work to do. If there is nothing else, thank you all for coming.” Colonel Drake jumped a half step while swatting down at his feet. The surfaces of his boots seemed to swirl and throb under a swarming black film. “Damn cleanbots.”

Adrian chuckled as he placed his hand on the colonel’s shoulder in passing, “If you’d wipe your feet before coming on board, Dan, you wouldn’t get these little annoyances. I have to get back to work.”

Drake stomped in annoyance before answering the ship’s captain, “Shit, you can’t even get a satisfying stomp on the damn things. They move too fast. One moment, please, Adrian. I have a final topic to discuss before we adjourn.

“Dr. Thompson, I’ll give you time to improve the AutoSentinel since you think your people have a shot at coming up with a safer security sensor. Otherwise, I want to make sure you realize we have an alternative.

“Almost all of the major predators in this region have been drawn to our camp’s perimeter and sit right outside of our defensive berm. At your insistence, we have tried to minimize harm to the animals and frankly, I was surprised how quickly they learned to keep safely back from the AutoSentinels.

“Be aware that we have the ability to extend the kill-zone out a full mile onto the mainland using munitions and the drones. If taken, this action would remove all predator life forms outside the berm and establish a threat-free buffer zone across the entire area. This action would allow us to complete the Argos repairs in safety since the surrounding areas would be empty of the large predators.”

“That’s not a good idea, Dan.” Captain Lee responded. “My chiefs tell me that many of the enlisted and civilian workers are concerned about the temporal impact of our being here. So far they have accepted our explanation.

“Killing all the large predators outside the berm will depopulate a large section of the continent. This would not be a small event and may be significant enough to cause problems in the time stream. At the very least, it’s bound to generate additional unrest in the crew.”

Colonel Drake thought for a moment then turned to look Thompson in the eye, delivering his reply with the impact of an artillery salvo, “I believe our marines can handle the social issues, Captain. If Dr Thompson truly believes this will be a problem then I suggest that his people quickly find a solution.

“Thank you, gentlemen. Please excuse me, I have troodon to capture and a berm to repair.”

Dr Nolen glared at Colonel Drake as he left the meeting. His mind could not release the insult extended by the colonel in directing Thompson to have ‘his’ people find a solution;
Those are my people, not Thompsons. Just wait, we’ll see who’s leading this insane expedition.

*~~*~~*~~*

An inch-long,
green and brown insect noisily buzzed to a very ungraceful landing on a blade of grass in front of Sgt Steve Martel. The marine stopped to examine it for a moment. The thing looked completely normal and that struck him as odd.
How can these insects be so much like those back home when everything else is so different?

The spell lasted only an instant before movement down the valley caught his attention. It was another tyrannosaur stretching its head high above the foliage. It looked around and then disappeared below the trees. They seemed to be scattered all over the valley but weren’t moving on. That presented both a puzzle and a problem,
What are they doing? How hard is it going to be to get by them and out to the end of this peninsula?

He wasn’t learning anything by standing there. He’d have to chance moving closer so Martel picked up the spears he had just completed and cautiously started down the path following the stream. After hours spent in the dark, wet tunnel it was good to be moving under a warm sun. It felt a bit like being back at home, perhaps during an afternoon of trout fishing,
Humph, right now I’d be happy just being back inside the camp before sunset.

His thoughts drifted with the warmth of the day until he remembered to look up and check the tree line ahead.

Shit, Martel froze in his tracks as he spotted the tyrannosaur staring at him from a few dozen yards away, damn it but you make the worst friggen mistakes when you’re tired. Just how long has it been staring at me and why haven’t you charged? No way I’m gonna outrun anything that huge.

Man and beast gazed at each other for a few moments. He wanted to see which way it jumped before taking off. Then he noticed something dangling from the mouth of the beast.

Well I’ll be damned...
Martel muttered as he saw the predator lose interest and turn away while lowering its head.
Maybe it didn’t see me.