To Well And Back (The Deep Dark Well) (9 page)

[It looks exotically
beautiful], she sent back to the comp, trying to relax in her suit as she
cleaved the air.

[It is one of the ten
deadliest jungles known], replied the comp.  [The Maurids are a very deadly
species of sophont, having evolved in such an environment.]

[And what makes it so
deadly?]

[A lethal combination
of poisonous plants and insects, carnivorous vegetation and animals, and of
course the Maurids.]

Pandi nodded her head
as she thought about that.  The Maurids were bad mothers, of that she had no
doubt.  She also didn’t doubt that she could take one in a fair fight even
without her suit, while her armor gave her a great advantage over anything not
possessing modern weapons. 
Like I would get into a fair fight
, she
thought with a laugh. 
Daddy may not have been a nice man, but he didn’t
raise no fool
.

Tapping into the
computer data bank she looked over what it had on the Maurid ecosystem, and she
whistled as the facts integrated with her memory.  Beta Mauradis Four had been
in the evolution business for a billion years longer than Earth, or the great
majority of other life bearing worlds. 
That’s longer than vertebrate life
existed on Earth
, she thought. 
Or infinitely longer than that six
thousand year bullshit daddy used to preach.
  Of course the Maurids, the
intelligent life form of that planet, didn’t evolve into their present state
until about two hundred thousand years ago, making them a younger sophont than
the human race. 
Good thing, or they might have discovered us, and that
would not have been fun. 
She shook her head at the thought.  How could it
have been any worse than the damned aliens that did discover humanity?

Pandora checked her
altitude and saw that she still had six thousand meters to fall.  She decided
to start braking maneuvers at two thousand while she looked for a good clearing
to set down in.  That thought was still going through her mind as one of the
nearby robots flared with reflected light, its right mid-limb came off and
tumbled away, and Pandora Latham realized that she was again under attack.

*     *     *

“What in the hell was
that?” asked Fleet Admiral Nagara Krishnamurta, looking up to the canopy
overhead as the deep rumbling boom came through.

“It’s a spaceship
coming down into the atmosphere,” answered Lt. Commander Dasha Mandrake,
walking beside the Admiral while she checked the feed from a satellite.  The
Kingdom had seeded the space around the planet with hundreds of thousands of
microsats that could act as com relays and surveillance platforms.  While one
alone was not much, combined they were awesome, and there were too many for the
Nation forces to track and destroy them all.

“One of theirs?” asked
the Admiral, wiping sweat off his brow.

“No, sir,” answered the
other officer.  “It looks like that ship from the
Donut
 is still with
us.  She’s dropping into the clouds.  Still visible on infrared.  The enemy is
trying their damndest to take her out.”

“Watch where you step,
human,” came the heavily accented voice of one of the Maurid guides that were
with them, residents of the mission they had established at the base.

Krishnamurta looked
over at the alien who was standing there on all four limbs.  Its dog like
muzzle was full of sharp teeth, and its coarse fur was a blend of orange and
purple that camouflaged it perfectly in this jungle.  Intelligent eyes looked
into the Admiral’s.  It was really only standing on three limbs realized the
officer.  The fourth, the left rear limb, was off the ground, the paw opened
from walking mode, fingers revealed and one pointing at a plant off to the side
that stretched a tentacle like vine across the path.

“Sagara plant will wrap
you up and snatch you away,” said the hissing voice of the creature.  “Step
carefully over it.”

“Thank you,” said the
Admiral, making sure he took a long step over the spine covered vine that
belonged to one of the carnivorous plants of the nightmare jungle.  He saw some
of the other troopers looking back at him with slight smiles on their faces.  They
had been in this jungle for almost a year, working with the natives, and
recognized the threat.  He and his spacers had not, and must depend on those
who knew to guide them.

“Why not just blast the
damned plant?’ asked Madrake, pointing the left arm of her armored suit at the
large, evil looking vegetable about forty meters away through the jungle.  The
laser tube that was built into that arm was pointed directly at the target life
form.

“No,” said the Maurid,
coming out of the four legged stance that was their primary locomotive
orientation, standing to his full two meter height.  He put a hand on the arm
of the suit and gently pushed down.  “You kill Sagara, and all motile
vegetation in area goes wild.  And plant make trap for those who follow.”

Great idea
, thought the Admiral,
nodding his head and motioning for his officer to lower her weapon. 
We have
the natives on our side, in an environment they know well.  Might as well use
that knowledge against our opponents, who wouldn’t pass the time of day with
this alien, other than to shoot him down.

“Lead on,” he told the
alien.  “We will demur to your wisdom on the matters of this jungle.”

The creature looked
confused for a moment, then recognition came to his eyes.  He gave a human nod
and went back to all fours, his forward hands folding back into paws.

“Keep the Marines and
Spacers alert,” he said to Mandrake.

“I don’t trust these
creatures,” said the Lt. Commander, nodding her helmeted head toward the Maurid
that had leapt ahead.

“I do,” said the Admiral
with a smile.  “After what the Nation of Humanity troops did back at the
mission, they would be fools to have anything to do with those xenophobes.”

Mandrake looked at the
Admiral, her visor up, a frown of disgust on her face.

She saw it as well as I
, thought the Admiral,
looking back into the jungle as he walked, making sure to look down every few
moments to be sure of his footing. 
The
a
nimals just walked into the
native hospital and shot down females and babies.  And enough adults escaped to
bring the news back to the ones in the jungle.  If the Nation Marines don’t
watch out, they’ll have all the tribes in the area out for their scalps.

He looked ahead at the
lithe looking alien walking the path ahead.  The sheathed form of a sword was
strapped to his back, along with a blow gun, and the Admiral had seen bows and
arrows among others of the native contingent. 
I wouldn’t want them after me
in this jungle, tech gap or not
.

*     *     *

Major Dronning Dumas
cursed again as he slammed his vibra blade through yet another tough vine in
the endless series of such, after checking to be sure it wasn’t one of the
carnivorous kind.  Of course, since they mostly mimicked ordinary non-motile
vines, that was quite a task. 
Why did it have to be a fucking jungle
,
he thought, then said a quick prayer for his use of a curse word.  Dumas was
from a devout family, and believed that God listened to whatever man said, for
good or ill. 
But maybe he’ll forgive any of our transgressions this day
,
he thought, smiling at the vision of the dead Maurids in the hospital the
Suryans had established. 
We sent enough of the Satan Spawn back to their
master to make God rejoice
.

Just as that thought
crossed his mind an arrow came flying out of the jungle to strike his armored
chest.  It clattered into the air, and Dumas sent a stream of hypervelocity
pellets into the jungle, seeking the projectile’s origin.  Other rifles joined
in, and tree trunks splintered and then shattered under the assault of high
velocity rounds.  Several trees fell over, and then the Marines were battling
the omnipresent vines that were attached to carnivorous plants that grew on the
great trees. 

Dumas slashed with his
vibro blade, cutting through vine after vine.  A scream alerted him to someone
who was not having such luck, and the officer ran over to a trooper that was
covered in the vines.  A couple of slashes and the trooper was free, blood
streaming from areas that battle armor didn’t completely cover, the tough
fabric of the joints.  The man thanked the major in a quiet voice, then fell
over and lay still.  Dumas did not have to do much to prove to himself that the
man was dead, poisoned by the damned vine that seemed to be as much animal as
plant.

“Report in,” he called
on his com while he stood over the dead man.

“First Platoon, A
Company reporting in,” came the first voice over the com, followed by all the
others counting down, until came one he didn’t want to hear.

“This is Fourth
Platoon, E Company reporting,” came the tired sounding voice.  “I have six men
down to an ambush.  Those damned demon dogs just move into place without a
sound and strike.”

“Stay in place, Fourth
Platoon, E Company,” called back the Major.  He closed the circuit and again
stared into the jungle.  He had entered with two hundred and seventy-three men,
leaving a fifty-two man detail at the base.  And he had already lost twenty-two
men, without even contacting the Suryan bastards he had been sent in after.

“Report,” came the
voice of the Admiral over the com.  Dumas cursed again, and prayed under his
breath that Quaid would get in front of the enemy in quick time, so that the
Major’s command would not have to keep trekking through this purple and orange
hell.

Chapter Nine

The art of war is simple enough.  Find out
where your enemy is.  Get at him as soon as you can.  Strike him as hard as you
can, and keep moving on.   Ulysses S. Grant

Another laser beam came
lancing into the sky, hitting a second robot, this time in the head area.  The
cranium of the bot exploded into semi melted pieces.  The brain of the bot was
not in that section, but much of its sensory systems were.

“Locate target and open
fire,” yelled Pandora as soon as she activated her com.  She shut the unit down
instantly and used her grabber units to move away from that location, using the
other bots as cover, and hoping that she hadn’t attracted the attention of the
ships in orbit.

Two of the robots had
not come out of the ship on time, or so it seemed, or else had gotten lost
somewhere up here in the atmosphere.  Her twenty-one remaining robots all
targeted the area of ground that the fire was coming from, a hill thrusting up
from the jungle, and opened fire with their own light amp and particle beam
weapons.  A quartet of robots had racks of missiles on their backs, and each
fired one at the target, the grabber powered weapons taking off in a streak of
light and accelerating into the hill.

The hill exploded in a
cloud of dirt and debris as the missiles hit, while the lasers and particle
beams played over the obscuring dust.  A couple of beams came up, tracked on
Pandora’s HUD display, and then the fire stopped.  Moments later her bots
ceased fire, and the rest of the fall was uneventful, though Pandora kept
waiting for that battleship class laser to come knifing out of the sky.

At three thousand
meters above the jungle she started her deceleration, pulling multiple Gees
that were absorbed by her suit’s inertial compensators.  To her it felt as if
she were floating out of the sky.  She turned her vision back to the hilltop
that had housed the enemy and was gratified to see several bodies lying out in
the open.  Whoever else had been up there had retreated back under cover.  Now
she only had to hope that they would stay under cover until she made it down.

Pandora looked down and
saw a small break in the canopy.  She steered her suit for that opening and
breathed a sigh of relief as the jungle closed in around her.  Looking up she
could see several of the robots following her down, and hoped the rest would
come down nearby.  Looking back down she aimed for an open spot between a trio
of forest giants.  The suit touched down softly, and she ordered her visor up
through internal link.

The air was a cloying
mixture of sweet and sickly odors.  Pandora has spent some time among the
jungle habitats of the station, exploring the strange flora and fauna.  But
they had been nothing like this steamy cauldron of life.  Strange sounds came
from every direction, chirps and squeaks, and screeching yells.  If not for her
armor she would have been very frightened.  With it she was sure she would be
the match for any plant of animal in this forest.  Against intelligent
creatures with high tech weapons it might be a different story.

Pandora sent out a low
power signal, orientating all the robots on her.  They returned the signal, and
she knew where all twenty-one of the robots were and their operational status. 
The two damaged in the attack while they were falling were the only ones not at
full capacity, and they were still usable combat machines.  Her next signal
released masses of miniature machines from the robots.  They swarmed out in
their hundreds of thousands, spreading kilometers in every direction.  The
machines, pizzoelectric micrometer robots, found perches on tree branches and
leaves.  Within ten minutes they had formed a ten square kilometer
communication and surveillance network that continued to spread.  Their signal
transmission would be low, and would not allow anyone looking down on the
jungle to get an exact fix on Pandora or her robots.

Now to figure out how
to hit the enemy
,
thought Pandora, looking at the area through her heads up display.  She was
getting indications of bodies of people moving to the north of her position. 
In three distinct groups.  And from the way they were moving she had no trouble
working out what was going on.  One group was trying to get away, and was being
herded into the group that was heading toward them from ahead.  In fact, even
while she was observing one of the bodies stopped and went to ground.  
An
ambush
, she thought, a tight smile on her face.  It never entered her mind
to run and hide herself.  Here was the enemy, and she thought of the admonition
of Nathan Bedford Forest,
get there first with the most. 
She didn’t
have the most, but she did have considerable firepower at her disposal.  And
another girlhood favorite, Stonewall Jackson, would have advocated a flank
attack.

[Let’s get a move on]
she sent to her robots, while plotting where she wanted to go, and what she
wanted to do when she got there.

*     *     *

“Assemble it there,”
ordered Watcher, pointing to the central flat area of the large room.  The
interior of the pyramid smelled musty, as befit a structure that had probably
not been open to the air for millennia.  The wormhole portal shimmered against
the wall of the room, robots stepping through at intervals, bringing loads of
equipment with them.  An object was being assembled in the center of the room,
and the robots that had come through were busy building more of the vehicles to
either side.

Watcher looked around
the room while the robots worked.  He felt strange being here, he who had not
been off the
Donut
for thousands of years, save the few excursions he
had made into space.  One of those excursions had been to rescue the woman he
was determined to save again.

The superman sent a
signal over his link to the computer that was housed in this step pyramid that
had once been the transportation nexus of this world.  It took a moment to go
through authentication, but once the computer recognized his authority it was
open to all commands.  He sent an opening command to the machine, his eyes set
on a small personal door that the schematic said went into the world outside. 
The metallic door made some noises, started to move, then stopped.  It did this
several times before it finally slid open, and the light of day came through
the aperture.

Watcher lowered the
visor on his armor, caution being a habit with him.  He hadn’t gotten to such
an age without knowing when to be careful, to not take chances.  Some were
unavoidable, like rescuing the woman he loved.  Some, like making sure he was
covered from head to toe before entering a hostile environment, were not.

The jungle surrounding
the pyramid was beautiful, a riot of orange and purple.  It was from the Maurid
home world, transplanted here to make this their own.  He knew from the data
banks that it was once a populated world with only half of the surface going to
natural habitat.  There had been billions of Maurids and other sentients living
on this planet at that time.  Now it was all natural, thanks to
Vengeance
and
the murderous station computer, the dwelling place of plants, animals and
primitive Maurids.  And deadly to any unprotected being that didn’t know its
perils.  That didn’t include Watcher, who had memorized this ecosystem until he
could name all of the major players, and how they could efficiently kill the
unwary human.

Watcher looked down the
steps, now covered in the remains of rotten vegetation, and layered over by
vines and roots.  None had penetrated the material of the pyramid.  That would
have been impossible without something more robust than mere plants.  In a
million years this pyramid, built with the technology of the Ancestors, would
still be standing, and a quick lasering would reveal a structure as new as the
day it was made.  The structures that were wormhole hubs had been made to be
impenetrable to anything but negative matter, antimatter, and kinetic weapons
in the gigaton range, though smaller weapons might cause some surface damage.

There were several
depressions in the jungle, seen by the way the tops of the trees were lower
than those a kilometer in each direction.  Most eyes would have missed the
difference, but not those of Watcher.  They were craters, the remains of
kinetic weapons that had been thrown at the pyramid, and had been deflected at
the last moment by the structure’s defensive systems. 
Weapons that I caused
to fall
, thought Watcher with regret.  There was so much he needed to make
amends for, and he only hoped that he would live long enough to do so. 
But
can I live a million years?
he thought, shaking his head sadly.  He was
said to be immortal, but didn’t know if that was really truth, or if he was
just extremely long lived.  And he was sure he could be killed, no matter his
life span.

I don’t have time for
this right now,
he thought, taking one last look at the jungle. 
Time to get off the pity
pot
.  He made his way over to where he knew the vehicle hatch was located,
which area was covered with vines, and even the large roots of a couple of
trees that were precariously perched on the soil that had built up on the
larger steps of the pyramid.  The hatch would not be useable as long as that
buildup was in the way, so the first order of business was to clear it.

Watcher reached over
his shoulder and pulled the particle beam weapon from its sheath.  He flipped
the safety engaging the weapon, which was shaped like an oversized rifle, a
very oversized rifle, with multiple barrels like a Gatling gun at the business
end.  There was no conduit to the weapon, no connection to the backpack which
contained an internal accelerator whose only purpose was to accept particles
from its wormhole portal, then send it to the weapon through another link.  The
main accelerator was back on the
Donut
, where it could build up a beam
to near light speed if such was needed.  Watcher locked his suit arms into
place and set his grabber units to compensate for the recoil.  He aimed at the
target after doing a quick computation of how long he needed to stay on each
area, then pulled the trigger.

The suit bucked back as
the gun ejected micrograms per second at point five c.  It pointed at the
target area as an angry red line, the result of friction with the air, sounding
like a mass of hostile bees on speed.  Where the beam touched the vegetation
turned to ash and the soil blew into the air.  The hatch was not visible as it
was cleared, sealed as it was into the building.  But Watcher’s HUD showed him
the outline of the hatch, and he sprayed the particle beam back and forth to
clear it like a garden hose cutting through dirt.

The weapon stayed cool
in his gauntleted hands, another wormhole siphoning the heat off to a sink
within the station.  The barrels rotated every couple of seconds, bringing a
new conduit into line while the last one cooled.  Watcher couldn’t wait to try
the weapon out on those who menaced Pandora.  He hated that there was still a
bit of
Vengeance
inside him, but was coming to accept that in this
Universe some bloodthirstiness was useful, for certain situations.  And this
was one of those.

With a last sweep of
the weapon he cleared the door.  A mental command to the local computer and the
door started to rise, slowly at first, then more quickly as hinges and motors
that had not been used in millennia moved into action.  Soon it was raised up
to the sky, revealing an entry room with a dusty floor, but no evidence of
intrusion by the jungle.

The room within was
still empty, and Watcher ordered the opening of the door that led further into
the interior.  It slid aside, revealing the gate room, and the robots that were
finishing up the assembly of a quintet of hover vehicles.

These were like the
tanks of old, able to fly at low altitude, but most often used to hover low
over the ground.  Each vehicle was five meters long by three wide, with a small
turret on the top which contained a particle beam weapon and missile launchers
along the side.  [Are we ready?] he sent to his command robot.

[In approximately five
more minutes] said that robot, rearing to its full Maurid imitating height,
wielding a nano-binder over the hull of the first machine.

Watcher nodded his head
and turned away, walking back to the outside and scanning the jungle with his
visually enhanced visor.  He took a close look at the trees, noting the spaces
between them, and the way the upper canopy arched over that open area below. 
Shouldn’t
be a problem
, he thought, then amended that to
it surely will be some
kind of problem I can’t yet foresee.
  He ticked off the minutes in his
head, then turned to go back to the vehicles, which now hovered a few
centimeters over the surface of the floor.  Maurid shaped robots were coming
out of the wormhole with bundles and boxes that they were loading into the
vehicles.  The boxes stowed away, they next started strapping things to the
outside, until the hover tanks resembled gypsy caravans from many millennia
past.  There were other people where he was going, and not all were enemies. 
And properly armed allies were always a good thing.

[All is ready, Watcher]
came the transmission from the prime robot.

[Then let us leave]
said the one organic unit of the group.  He climbed into the control
compartment of the third vehicle, while the sixty Maurid shaped combat robots
distributed themselves around the small convoy.  With a command the vehicles
left the pyramid, the outer door closing behind them.  Down the slope of the
pyramid they went, then under the canopy of the trees.