Authors: Stuart Clark
Par strapped himself into his seat and laid his gun across his lap. Bobby already had hers up and primed to fire. The butt of the weapon was wedged firmly into her shoulder. She winked experimentally down the barrel of the weapon, seeing if the laser sight were true. A small red dot appeared on the now not-so-distant trees. She seemed satisfied but did not lower her weapon, simply scanned the trees with her eyes instead of the gun-sight.
Muffled voices could be heard from the cockpit as Wyatt and Kate went through their checklist. It could not be long now.
Chris fidgeted. He could not put his weapon on his lap or hold it anywhere for any period of time because it would start to rattle, he was shaking so much.
“Okay, are you guys ready back there?” Wyatt called through to them. “We’re going to fire her up. If you’re at all religious, I suggest you start praying now, and if you’re not…well, pray anyway.”
Nobody responded.
Bobby adjusted the position of her gun slightly, shook the hair out of her face and brought her eye down in line with the barrel once more. Par saw her jaw set. She seemed to freeze in place—the epitome of calm.
Par slung the strap of his gun over his shoulder and turned awkwardly to face the open door. He flicked the safety catch off with his thumb and brought the weapon down low, near his waist, so that it was almost on his lap again. He gripped it firmly, both from grim resolve and from fear. His forefinger felt the cold contact of the steel of the trigger. From the corner of his eye he could see the muzzle of Chris’ leveled weapon next to him. It was shaking uncontrollably.
There was a bang from under the ship and for a fleeting moment, the three in the cabin thought that something had gone drastically wrong, but slowly, there came a new sound. Hundreds of gallons of water began to move inside tanks beneath the ship, motivated by tank stirrers and forced through tubes that had lain dormant for months by pumps that had been equally inactive. This was it. Their bid for home had begun.
A piercing hiss added to the growing noise as the water, under enormous pressure, rushed out of jets and sprinklers on the underside of the ship. The air outside was clouded with a fine gray mist.
“This is great!” Par shouted over the clamor at Bobby, “If they keep this up we’re not going to see Jack shit.”
“If it comes, we’ll see it, all right!”
He jerked his head to acknowledge her reply. He didn’t doubt it for a second either.
Seconds passed liked millennia.
“Come on, come on,” Bobby muttered under her breath. With each passing second they were making themselves more a target. In the midst of this massive rainforest, the shuttle now seemed to afford her little safety.
Par jumped as a new sound ripped into his consciousness. Instinctively he turned but he immediately recognized the chatter of semi-automatic weapon fire. Despite all the noise, his world seemed suddenly to turn silent and slow.
Golden, smoking, spent cartridges leapt out of Chris’ gun. They flew high and described a graceful arcing trajectory before falling out of his line of sight. Beyond Chris and Bobby, Kate’s face appeared in the open doorway between cabin and cockpit, a com link rested over her cap, the small microphone arm lying flush with her check. She had turned, intrigued by the noise and Par caught her just long enough to see both fear and then panic flash across her features. As if on cue, as his eyes swept round to take in the rest of the scene, the same spent cartridges began baling out of Bobby’s weapon. Her mouth opened wide in a roar of defiance, but he heard nothing. His head continued to turn and his eyes swam across an ocean of green before resting on their nemesis. He felt his bowels loosen and for a millisecond struggled to keep his composure.
The monster had charged through a copse of trees as if they weren’t there. Already two massive branches were falling away from it, snapped from their parent trees like matchwood, their splintered ends tortured and exposed. The massive head hung still for a moment and then swung up towards them. Small dark spots began appearing on the beast, the mark of bullet strikes, but they seemed nothing more then tiny blemishes on the gargantuan torso. The creature came about and started towards them. Bullets were not going to stop its charge.
Par’s finger squeezed the trigger and his weapon convulsed to life in his arms. The world returned in a rush of deafening noise. The air seemed charged with electricity. The smell of weapons’ discharge was strong, and the only other sound over the chug-chug of guns was the musical notes the empty cartridge cases made as they struck the shuttle floor like raindrops, raining down death on all but that which opposed them now.
The shuttle was now vibrating wildly. It could not be long now.
“We’re not gonna make it. Oh God, we’re not gonna make it,” Chris wailed next to him.
“Shut up, kid and keep firing!” Par snapped back at him, but even he shared the youngster’s pessimism. They were peppering this thing with gunfire and so far it had shown no sign of serious injury or slowing. Already it had covered a quarter of the distance between them. He brought his gun up and braced it against his shoulder. He pulled the second, shorter trigger on his weapon and the kick rocked him backwards in his seat. A small grenade screamed through the air but fell short of its target, throwing up a shower of earth and mud, only feet in front of beast.
The creature slowed, disoriented and unsettled by the blast, but quickly resumed its attack on them. The grenade, instead of saving their lives, had saved them only a few seconds.
Par frantically looked around the cabin for something else to use; their weapons were useless against this thing. What else was there? His eye caught a flash of silver under Chris’ seat. The end of a canister stuck awkwardly out of Chris’ pack. It was the oxygen cylinder that Chris had carried with them right from the start of their expedition, in case any team member had a problem with the trace irritants in the atmosphere. Without thinking, he punched the release clip on his seat belt and grabbed the cylinder out of Chris’ pack. Before either Bobby or Chris realized what was going on, Par had ducked past them and thrown himself out of the door. He landed awkwardly and fell to the ground, the ecto-cast still on his leg and hindering him greatly.
“Par!” Bobby screamed. “Par! What are you doing?”
He struggled to his feet, the spray from under the shuttle was turning the ground into shifting mud. “Giving you a chance!”
“But you’re coming with us. You can’t give up now, we’re so close. Think of all the things you have to go back for!”
A sad smile crossed his face. “There is nothing there for me anymore.”
“What are you talking about?”
“I have nothing to go back for. Tell Wyatt I said that. He’ll understand. Now, cover me! I have to get away, the boosters will fire any second.” He turned and struggled away from them.
“No Par! No!” Bobby screamed but it was too late. A huge roar filled the air as the boosters fired. Par disappeared as great clouds of superheated steam enveloped the shuttle. As tears began to run down her cheeks she fired blindly into the gray where she thought the creature must be.
The shuttle bucked slightly and then slowly lifted into the air, climbing sedately despite the urgency of the situation. The steam dissipated and as they rose above it, she could see Par, half-hobbling, half-hopping away from them. Under one arm he carried the silver canister, in the other his gun was held aloft. She could not hear it over the roar of the engines, but she could see the small spurt of flame as he fired off rounds. He was shouting, too. Screaming at the creature to attract its attention. The ponderous beast slowed and then turned to bear down on him. Par was creating a diversion so that they might escape.
Then something unexpected happened. From the trees on the other side of the clearing, Gon-Thok emerged. Par spotted the alien and yelled at it, gesticulating wildly to warn it off, but Gon-Thok advanced purposefully on the monster and then crouched into a ball. A set of dorsal spikes rose up and over Gon-Thok’s head, the first and largest of them pointing directly at the leviathan. The briefest of moments passed and then the first of Gon-Thok’s spikes flew through the air. As Par watched its flight, spellbound by the scene, one of the giant’s great hands came down and swept him up in a fist of crushing claws.
Gon-Thok’s spike buried itself deeply in the monster’s arm. The creature roared silently amongst the cacophony of noise, but did not let go of the pathetic-looking human in its great hand. Par struggled in vain against the crushing grip.
As Bobby watched, Par managed to bring his weapon around and get it under control. She expected him to open fire again to cause maximum damage at close range, but to her horror she watched as Par brought the silver canister up in front of him with his other hand. She knew in that instant what he was planning to do. As he brought the muzzle of his gun down to point at the oxygen cylinder she reached across and slid the door of the shuttle closed.
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Wyatt’s eyes frantically scanned the few working readouts on the bridge. All were showing normal despite the explosion that had just rocked the shuttle. His mind raced to think of possible causes but found none. Whatever it was, the explosion had not come from the ship.
Kate attempted to glimpse out of the tiny window to her left, but the bucking ship forced her to concentrate on the second flight controller that seemed to have come alive in her hands. Slowly, the ship settled and their ascent rate increased. Within seconds they were clear of the tree-tops.
The mauve sky gave way to twilight blue fringed with ethereal white, and then they were free of the planet’s atmosphere and floating in the blackness of space. She slowly released a breath that she’d been holding for as long as she could remember. “We made it,” she whispered.
“We made it,” Wyatt confirmed next to her. It was almost like he couldn’t believe it. “We made it,” he said again quietly, as if to convince himself it was true. He reached across and took her hand in his. She was surprised to find that he was shaking, and gave his hand a reassuring squeeze.
“I knew you’d do it. I never lost faith in you.”
He smiled faintly. With the touch of a button he shut off the booster rockets and sat there for a moment, savoring the silence of space and the reassuring touch of another.
“Let’s go home,” he said, engaging the hyperdrive. The stars seemed to swell and then streaked past them leaving streamers of white in their wake.
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“He said you’d understand what he meant.” Bobby wiped away a tear as she finished recounting the story of Par’s sacrifice.
Wyatt nodded but offered no explanation. “I do.”
“This is what you and he argued about, isn’t it?” Chris said quietly.
“Yes. Yes it is.” The others looked at him for elaboration, although he refused to further comment on the issue. “It’s better you remember him as you do.” He turned and walked back into the cockpit, standing there to watch the stars streak silently by. He felt a slender arm wrap about his waist and looked down to see the top of Kate’s cap next to him. She didn’t look up at him; he knew that she’d been crying. It had come as a shock to both of them to find that Par was no longer with them once they had escaped the planet that had caused so much grief to their small party. Right at the end, it had claimed one more of their number. Par’s death had seemed all the more poignant because he had been so close to escaping with them, but Wyatt could feel no remorse. Par was a dead man, even if he had returned with them. He’d said so himself. By saving them, in a small way, he’d saved himself and maybe, in doing so, he’d made peace with his conscience. Only Wyatt knew his awful secret.
“Maybe one day you’ll be able to talk about it.”
“Maybe,” he agreed, putting his arm around her shoulders.
They stood there in silence for a moment, before Wyatt spoke again. It was as if he was thinking out loud. “When the world, any world, gets you down, it’s easy to get caught up in life. These last few weeks I’ve failed to appreciate the good things around me.”