Rebellion of Stars (Starship Blackbeard Book 4) (10 page)

He came up quickly and swam in a rapid breaststroke towards the broken lily pads. When he reached the spot, he stopped and treaded water.

“I can feel it with my feet! It’s right below me, and not very far down, either.”

“Good!” Tolvern called back. “Now shut up and get to work.”

Carvalho kicked his feet up and dove down. He was under the water for several seconds before he popped up again. He turned around, reoriented himself, and dove again.

But this time, he didn’t come back up. Tolvern held her breath, her heart pounding. Several more seconds passed. It had been too long. Something had taken him. Good heavens, why had she sent him out? They knew something was in the water; she’d seen it moving. Why had she been so stupid?

Finally, his head broke the surface. He gasped for air. He was empty handed, but didn’t make another attempt, only swam quickly for the overhanging tree. When he reached it, Tolvern and Nyb Pim grabbed his outstretched arms and hauled him onto the trunk, where he lay gasping for air.

Tolvern and Nyb Pim plucked off the leeches from his body. There were at least a dozen.

“Well?” she demanded.

“I felt it all right. The opening. Right down against the mud where it hit after the pod rolled. Can’t get inside, though. Opening is too narrow with it half-buried.” Carvalho held his thumb and index finger about two inches apart. “This much is all you’ve got.”

“Could you shift it?” she asked.

“I tried. It’s full of water and wedged in the mud.”

“Maybe if we all went,” Brockett said.

“No good,” Carvalho said. “We’d need rope. Some machinery. I don’t know—air bladders to raise it to the surface. Something.”

A knot of despair rose in Tolvern’s breast. “Where are we going to get anything like that?”

Nyb Pim shielded his eyes with his hand and looked up at the sun. Tolvern followed his gaze. What time of day was it? Hard to tell here on an alien world, but she guessed they had a few more hours until dusk. They’d better start thinking how to spend the night. Could they recover the parachute from the other side of the lake and use it for a tent?

“We shouldn’t sleep here,” Nyb Pim said when she’d shared her thoughts.

“Why?” Tolvern asked. “What are we facing?”

“I am not sure. But whatever is in the water, it wants to eat us.”

Chapter Ten

They couldn’t get the pod out of the mud, but Tolvern couldn’t very well leave it, either. It had everything that would keep them alive in this steamy, swampy wilderness. It had a bloody blowtorch, for god’s sake, so they could practically burn their way out of here when the machetes failed.

Nighttime was coming. What the hell was she to do? She needed to improvise something quickly. Tolvern eyed the parachute, still dangling from the fern a couple of hundred yards away. Either cross open water (hell no) or try to get there via the jungle. Neither sounded easy.

“We’ve got to get that before it’s dark,” she said. “It will keep out some of the predators, I’d think. Not as good as an open clearing and roaring fire, but something.”

“And bring it back here?” Brockett said.

“Away from the water is better,” Nyb Pim said. He had the rifle across his bony lap and rarely took his eyes off the lake below them. “Whatever is in the water—”

“You said that already,” Tolvern pointed out. “It’s hard to find a better spot to sleep than this dead tree.”

“Technically, it’s not a tree,” Brockett said. “It’s a pteridophyte. Like a fern.”

“Fine,” she said. “Still the best place to spend the night. Wide enough you won’t fall off, elevated.”

“Trust the Hroom,” Carvalho said.

“Oh, I do. But take a look. How are we going to get five feet through this vegetation, let alone over to the parachute, then haul the blasted thing through the jungle and . . . go where, exactly?”

They fell silent, because of course she was right. They had few options. The rifles would serve them well if anything attacked in broad daylight. The dried carrots would keep them from starving for a few days, at least. It had rained a few minutes ago, and they slaked their thirst by funneling water dripping off fronds. But they had no tools. What she wouldn’t have given for one of the machetes submerged on the pod.

“I do have this,” Carvalho said.

He’d been lounging this whole time in his underwear, and now fetched his trousers, still spread out and wetter than ever. He reached into one of the deep side pockets and pulled out a folding knife. The six-inch blade had a wicked curve and a serrated back edge.

“King’s balls, that’s the best tool we’ve got,” she said. “Why didn’t you mention it earlier?”

Carvalho shrugged. “Non-standard equipment. The captain doesn’t like people walking around armed. Anyway, I forgot I had it.”

She stood up, testing her balance as the dead fern trunk moved with her shifting weight. “Put your pants on. Shirt, too.”

She watched him as he did so, her eyes lingering longer than necessary on his muscular shoulders, arms, legs, and buttocks. Turning back to the other two, she handed her rifle to Brockett.

“You know how to shoot this thing, right?”

“I can, yes.” The science officer didn’t sound completely confident, but from the way he handled the weapon, he didn’t seem helpless, either.

“Never mind.” She took it back. “I’ll keep it myself. How about you?”

“Yes, of course,” Nyb Pim said. He patted the rifle on his lap. “My naval training included it.”

“Good. Carvalho and I are going after that parachute. We’ll stick to the shore. Not in the water, and not cutting through the jungle, either. You should have us in view at all times. Cover us.”

Carvalho pulled on his wet socks and boots. “Maybe one of us should stay to do the shooting.”

“I want to scout out the lake. But you can stay if you’re feeling nervous. You already proved your manliness.”

He winked at her, then made his way along the dead trunk to land. He jumped onto the shore, his boots squishing in the mud. He grabbed hold of an overhanging branch from another fern tree to keep from sinking deeper, and held out his hand for her.

“Come on.”

She declined his aid and swung herself down. He shrugged and unfolded his knife again. They picked their way slowly along the shore, with Carvalho in the lead. He sawed through vines and any draping fronds that couldn’t be pushed aside. Tolvern kept her rifle unslung and her eye on the forest, trusting Nyb Pim to cover them from attacks originating in the lake. Something crashed through the underbrush a few yards away, but she didn’t catch a glimpse of what it was.

“I saw you watching me while I dressed,” Carvalho said when they were out of earshot of the others.

“Shut up, you did not. I was looking for leeches, that’s all.”

“If you say so.” His muscles strained as he leaned into a frond to bend it out of the way. “Are you so shy you couldn’t undress to let your own clothes dry out?”

“Did it work? Are yours dry?”

“Well, then. Take off your clothes and let me have a look at your body. That would be only fair. You were looking, I saw you.”

“I was looking for leeches,” she repeated. “But apparently, I only saw a lech.”

He turned with a grin. “I told Capp I was going to seduce you once we got to the planet. She bet me twenty pounds I couldn’t do it.”

“Hah.” Tolvern was almost certain he was jesting. “That’s good drinking money.”

“I know. But I was thinking about buying a new hand cannon next time I was on San Pablo.”

“Good money for Capp, I mean. If you survive to pay your debt, tell her to offer you double or nothing and she can increase her winnings.” She shrugged. “I don’t believe it anyway.”

“Why not?”

“I know what Capp is like, and I know what she says, but I still don’t think she’d be keen to hear you talking to me like this.”

“Believe it. She’s mentioned seducing you herself.”

“In that case, you’ll
both
be disappointed, won’t you?”

“Give me time. The expedition is early yet.”

“Not that early, Carvalho. You’re not the last man in the fleet I’d sleep with, but you sure as hell aren’t the first, either.”

“Well, yes, but Captain Drake isn’t here, is he?”

Tolvern was grateful she was hot and flushed already, or she was sure she’d have turned bright red.

“It’s only having fun, Captain,” he said. “Don’t look so put out.”

“Will you shut up and focus? Something’s going to jump out of the jungle and drag us off while you’re screwing around.”

But Carvalho was apparently the most aggressive life form on the lake, and they reached the fern tree without so much as a bug bite. As they climbed it, however, Tolvern disturbed a six-legged lizard as big around as Carvalho’s forearm, which came out snapping and hissing. It spit something that hit her neck and burned.

She swatted at the lizard, but the blasted thing wouldn’t abandon its post. Carvalho got up and around and saw that the creature was protecting a clutch of eggs. Tolvern was able to circle and climb up after him, and the animal retreated to its lair among the fronds.

They reached the parachute. It was dry, the silk-like material having repelled any water. The cords were tangled pretty well in the vegetation, though, and Carvalho had to cut at them.

“Here, pull this,” he said.

“I’m trying.”

“You all right? You look sick.”

Tolvern rubbed at the stinging substance on her neck. It was making her lightheaded. Stupid lizard.

Carvalho stripped off his shirt, soaked it in one of the water pockets on the fern fronds, and scrubbed at her neck. His chest was in her face.

Another chance to show his muscles. But once the gunk was off her neck, she was grateful. The burning went away almost at once, and her head cleared.

“I’m okay now,” she said. “Thanks.”

He looped the befouled shirt through his belt rather than put it back on, and the two of them wrestled with the parachute until they got it loose. It was actually two parachutes, the first designed to tug out the second, larger one. The big one was too large to carry, designed as it was to drastically slow the pod’s plummet to the ground, so they separated the pair. They folded up the bigger one as best they could and wedged it partly in among the branches. Might need the material later.

When that was done, they wrapped the smaller one into a bundle. Even this was big and bulky. Tolvern glanced across the lake, wishing they had a boat. They’d be across in five minutes. Brockett waved to them, and she waved back to let the other two know she and Carvalho were okay.

It was now almost dusk. They were at a high latitude, and it was apparently summer, according to the rotation of the world, which wobbled much like Albion and many other Old Earth-like planets. That meant they had a little time before it grew dark, but she didn’t want to mess around. Time to think about their second goal: getting away from this lake to higher, dryer, and more open land.

She climbed the fern tree to get a better view of their surroundings. To the north lay a series of swampy lakes much like this one. The land to the east was even less promising, what looked like continual marsh. They might get away from large water-dwelling predators there, but you couldn’t sleep in reeds and six inches of muddy water. The west and south were pure jungle, not a clearing to be seen. Not even so much as one of the mounds that marked old Hroom ruins on so much of the planet.

She leaned down to Carvalho and told him what she saw.

“The jungle to the west,” he said, “how far can you see?”

“Not far, maybe a mile or two. There’s a row of taller trees blocking my sight.”

“So maybe there is something on the other side.”

“Maybe,” she said, doubtful. “It’s too far to make an attempt tonight. We’ll have to sleep at the lake tonight.”

“Nyb Pim isn’t going to like it.”

“Who can blame him? But look, we’re at least four hours on this planet after getting shot up by Malthorne’s torpedo boats. And we’re not dead yet. Let’s see if we can make it through the night.”

#

It was nearly dark by the time they made it back to the others and formed the parachute into a crude shelter. Supper was freeze-dried carrot soup mixed with rainwater. It was . . . edible.

The air inside the shelter was sweltering, but a slight breeze had picked up over the swamp, so they stayed outside on the branch while they drank down the soup, using the packets as crude bowls. Nyb Pim laid out the risks.

“We’re safe from leeches,” he said. “They’ll come out of the water at night, but the nylon should keep them out.”

“Can’t feel the confounded things,” Brockett said. “If there are enough of them, they might very well drain you dry, like an army of tiny vampires.”

“Same goes for eye suckers,” the Hroom added. “The shelter should keep them out.”

Brockett’s eyes looked ready to pop out. “What’s that?”

“Precisely what it sounds like. They anesthetize your eyeballs and suck out the fluid while you sleep. With luck, the nylon will protect us from mosquitoes and bone diggers,too.”

“What the devil is a bone digger?” Brockett cried.

“Aren’t you a scientist?” Tolvern said. “Where’s your sense of curiosity?”

“Not so curious I want to wake up with bone diggers covering my body.”

“Only one,” Nyb Pim said. “Once it lays its eggs in you, the others will leave you alone.”

“Enough with the vermin talk,” Carvalho said. “It is making me squeamish. Tell us about the big dangers.”

The list was long and lovingly described, as if the pilot was proud of the native wildlife of the Hroom worlds. Lurkers and pouncers, of course. Then you had carnivorous eels, various crocodile-like creatures, turtles the size of an armored car that could take off a leg with one bite. Leathery, nocturnal birds that hunted in flocks and had a venomous bite. And those were only the things Nyb Pim knew about.

“How did all of those things get here?” Carvalho asked. “Giant turtles? Thirty-foot crocodiles?”

“Maybe they stowed away in the hold of a cargo ship,” Tolvern said with a smile. “You know, like wharf rats running up the mooring lines.”