A change in the ship’s vibrations jolted Bassan awake.
“We’re here.” Zendar adjusted his pack and slung it over his shoulders. He tendered the cord, grasping the hook.
Bassan scrambled to stand, his body stiff from sitting so long. He scanned the room for a place to tether the line, but the smooth walls provided no purchase.
“Where are you going to hook it?” he said, fear gnawing at his chest.
Zendar moved to the far right corner where the ceiling met the floor. “There’s a rung right outside on the ship. When the floor starts to open, I’ll lean out and secure the rope. I’ll need you two to hold on to me so I don’t fall out.”
Great. I’m so good at hanging on to someone.
Zendar lay on his side, his head wedged into the corner. Witz grabbed his leg and pressed his hand against the ceiling. He scowled at Bassan. “Hang on to him!”
Bassan crouched and grasped Zendar’s pants. His fist tightened around the loose fabric. Mimicking Witz, he placed his other hand on the ceiling.
The ship shimmied, and the engine’s roar changed pitch again. The shaking hid Bassan’s own tremors, which grew with each passing moment. The vibrations lessened, and every muscle in his body tightened.
“Not a hundred percent sure where they’ll dump us,” Zendar said. “At least it won’t be in the middle of a sandstorm.”
“Why’s that?” Witz said.
“They don’t want their ship damaged.”
Small mercy.
All movement ceased. The sensation sent a jolt through Bassan and he increased his grip on Zendar.
A mechanical whir filled the room. The floor shifted, and Bassan sucked air.
Hang on to me, Zendar thought.
The floor shifted. A blast of warm air filled the chamber as floor and ceiling separated. Zendar wiggled forward until his head and shoulders hung outside the room.
Bassan squinted at the bright light.
There it is! Zendar thought.
Bassan’s heart beat wildly in his chest. The wind rushed in at him as the opening grew. One hand still on the ceiling, he braced his feet. The soles of his boots gripped, but for how long?
Got it, Zendar thought. Everyone, grab the rope.
Where is it? Panic choked Bassan as his feet slid a few inches.
Here!
Witz flung something at him, and it smacked him in the face. Zendar’s legs pulled away, dragging Bassan closer to the opening. In terror, he released Zendar and grabbed for the rope.
His whole body slid.
Head pressed against the ceiling and the floor giving way below him, Bassan wrapped both hands around the cord. With nothing else holding him in place, his body tumbled out. A terrified shout escaped his lips.
Hang on! Zendar thought.
Below him, the rope jerked with force. His hands slipped and caught on the next knot. When his feet swung wide, he held his breath. He fought to get the rope between his legs. The cord ceased its wild movement and grew taut. Pressing his knees together, he finally secured his hold.
Now move, Zendar thought. It’s not far.
The cord trembled below him as Witz shimmied down first. His breath ragged, Bassan released one hand and brought it down in front of him. Clinging to the knot, he let go with the other hand. His body dropped faster than expected. He seized the rope and pressed tight against it. His arms quivered and he closed his eyes.
Bassan, move! Something tapped his head. We must reach the ground before the ship finishes its dump.
He squinted upward. Zendar hovered above him. Bassan eased his body down. Releasing one hand, he tried again. Prepared this time, he didn’t drop so fast. Desperate to reach solid ground, he continued to shimmy his way down.
The roar of crushing metal crowded his ears. Terrified, Bassan moved faster. The cascade of sound filled the air, more deafening than every squadron on Tgren’s base taking off at once.
Almost there, Witz thought.
Bassan reached for the next knot below and misjudged his hold. A chill overtook his skin. He slid. Opening his mouth to yell, the sound died in Bassan’s throat as his feet slammed into solid ground. The air left his body and he staggered backward.
Rough hands grabbed his pack and shoulder and hauled him aside. He dropped to his knees and rolled. Sand kicked up from the ship’s engines and entered his mouth. He coughed and sat up, attempting to spit out the irritating grit. When someone seized his arm and yanked hard, his breath caught in his chest.
We have to get clear! Zendar thought.
Bassan let the momentum propel him and squared his legs under him. He rose to his feet, still fighting for breath, muscles trembling. Digging his heels into the sand, he attempted to keep pace with Zendar.
Over the howling wind, the clash of metal grew noisier. Bassan threw a glance over his shoulder. Debris rained down from the ship. The onslaught of metal colliding with the debris on the surface created a deafening symphony of destruction, one that drew closer with each passing second.
Bassan clenched his fists and pumped his legs harder.
We’ll be crushed.
Zendar sprinted into the lead. He cut a sharp right, arms out for balance. Witz and Bassan skidded in the loose gravel. Bassan’s right knee hit the sand. Left arm flailed in a search for balance, right hand slammed against the ground. The force propelled him forward and upward. He regained his footing and bolted after Zendar and Witz.
The sand gave way to rocky ground. Zendar darted between the rocks and small boulders. Behind them, the rain of garbage pounded the ground without mercy. Lungs laboring in the swirling dust, Bassan fought for every breath.
I’m not going to make it!
The boulders grew larger. Zendar’s form vanished as he navigated the terrain, leaving Bassan trailing at a dangerous distance. Terrified of losing his guide and his one chance for escaping this place, Bassan called out.
Zendar!
Don’t stop. We’re almost clear.
His legs were about to give out when Zendar and Witz came into view again. Zendar continued at a fast trot, glancing over his shoulder. Slapping a boulder in passing, he slowed and turned around. After a couple steps backward, he came to a halt.
We’re in the clear, he thought.
With an audible gulp for air, Bassan staggered forward and leaned against a smooth boulder. Rolling to press his back against the rock, he scanned for the shower of debris. A change in the ship’s direction sent the stream of garbage curving away to their right. No longer directly behind them, it glided along, resembling a storm across the planet’s surface. Bassan let his head drop back against the flat stone.
That was too close, Witz thought, his breathing raspy.
I knew it would be tight. Zendar straightened his back and wiped his brow. They always circle left though. Narcons are predictable.
Bassan leaned against the rock, unable to move. His legs trembled with a life all their own. The Narcon ship filled his field of vision, the garbage still pouring from its hull. No longer focused on running, he realized the grinding of metal grew quieter. Death no longer threatened from above.
“Now where do we go?” Witz said, regaining his voice.
Zendar pulled a small device from his bag. “Let’s see where they dumped us.”
The gentle roar of metal hitting the surface ceased. Bassan turned his attention to the ship. The bulbous vessel hovered in silence, no longer spewing debris across the planet. The bay doors at the bottom closed and it began to rise.
I’m committed now. And completely stuck.
A sizeable portion of the area closest to them lay covered in rubble. Some of the piles rose into the air, towers of glinting metal, reminding him of Procura Space Station. An ugly Procura, of course. Beyond that, desert stretched to the horizon, ending in a hazy mountain range. Bassan squinted at the light reflecting from metallic stacks and the pale desert.
“Well, the good news is they didn’t drop us off on the wrong side of the planet,” Zendar said.
“What’s the bad news?” Witz said.
Zendar’s shoulders sagged. “We have a long trek in front of us.”
Witz jerked upright. “I thought your contacts would pick us up.”
“When we get closer. I can’t send a signal this far.”
Witz cursed. Bassan’s optimism sank even lower.
“As soon as we’re in range, I’ll notify them. Until then,” Zendar said, shouldering his pack, “we walk.”
Bassan peered back at the Narcon garbage ship. It shrank farther from view, now but a speck on the horizon. Resolve sank in his guts. Like it or not, he had no choice but to go forward.
“Let’s get going, then,” he said.
* * *
Dusk settled on the rocky landscape. Boulders bubbled from the ground, threatening to erupt from the surface. Their long shadows grew more alive with every step. The sand and stone blended into one shade of grey, washing the planet in a monotone color, further emphasizing the encroaching darkness. Despite the silence, the planet’s surfaced pulsed with synthesized energy.
Bassan’s legs protested the long walk, and he longed to curl into a ball and sleep. Zendar pressed forward.
“How much farther?” Witz said, not bothering to conceal his annoyance.
“We’re on the edge of Lethan territory,” Zendar said. He paused by a large boulder and glanced back at them. “We don’t dare camp here. I want to get us a couple degrees farther north.”
Bassan grasped the closest boulder and hauled himself forward. “Who are the Lethan?”
“A rogue colony. Mostly comprised of prisoners. They would show us no mercy.”
“Even with a bribe of escape?” Witz said.
“No.”
Escape? On one of those garbage ships?
Bassan closed his eyes for a moment before trudging forward.
Why did I agree to this? I’m trapped. With no way to contact anyone. If I’d taken Sirella as my mate, I could speak to her now.
Regret twisted his guts. All his excuses fell by the wayside.
You’re always right, Drent. Damn you.
He followed the others, no longer caring about their mission.
Absorbed in his own thoughts, Bassan ran into Witz. He jerked upright.
Sorry.
Witz growled and shoved Bassan with force. Run into me again and it’ll be the last thing you ever do.
“I think we can rest here,” Zendar said, obviously unaware of their exchange. He ducked under a large boulder.
Witz followed, Bassan on his heels but not too close. Zendar held up his light, illuminating a small cave. “We’re out of Lethan turf now. Plus, this will provide shelter.”
Bassan staggered forward and sank to his knees. The bag across his back now weighed him to the floor. Neither it nor his aching legs would let him go any farther. Not even the unforgiving rock under his knees bothered him.
“We’ll be safe here for the night,” Zendar said, dropping his pack to the ground.
“How close are we to sending a signal?” Witz said.
Zendar pulled his pack nearer and retrieved the device. He punched the keys and frowned. “At least two more days. Maybe more. Depends how far we get tomorrow.”
“Damn, how far away are we?”
“Far enough!”
Witz grumbled and dumped his pack.
“Hey, I picked the garbage ship dropping us as close as possible to the settlement. At least we aren’t on the wrong side of the planet.” Zendar jammed the device back into his bag. “We could’ve had an ocean to cross.”
That word caught Bassan’s attention. He eased the pack off his shoulders. “This place has oceans?”
Zendar pulled out a water canister and slumped against the back wall. “Of course. Doesn’t Tgren?”
Witz produced a light, dispelling some of the growing darkness. Bassan stared at the gentle glow, his reply to Zendar’s question fading from his thoughts. Despite the surroundings, the light provided him a sense of comfort.
“Eat and drink something. You’ll feel better,” Zendar said, tearing into a food pack. “Then get some sleep. We have a long day ahead of us.”
With a soft moan, Bassan dragged his pack closer. When Witz chuckled, he looked up.
“I don’t think our scientist is used to a hard day’s work.” Witz pointed a finger at him. “Better keep up with us, soft boy. I’m not carrying your sorry ass.”
“I’ll keep up.”
Or I’ll die from exhaustion. One of the two.
* * *
“We’ll take a break up there by those twisted trees,” Zendar said.
Bassan paused and surveyed their surroundings. Four desert plants, a bit taller than him, grew together in a shallow dip in the sandy ground. Rusty threads wove throughout the green branches, warping the trees’ appearance. Buds grew between the long thorns, proving life still existed inside the nubby shrubs.
Amazing anything grows here. I imagine quite a bit dies, though. Just hopefully not us.
Zendar reached the spot first and kicked around the sand before sitting on a flat rock. Witz took the other small rock in the shade. Bassan paused, weighing his options. Desperate to get out of the sun, even for a few minutes, he knelt—or rather collapsed—at the base of two trees. His body no longer cooking from the heat, he closed his eyes.
“How much longer before we’re past this blasted sand?” Witz said.
“At this pace? Less than two hours. We’ll start hitting rocky terrain again then. Easier for walking.”
I’ll take easier.
Bassan reached for his water canteen.
“We’d get there faster if soft boy wasn’t dragging in the rear.”
Bassan cast a scowl Witz’s direction. The gesture was lost as the man didn’t look his direction. Shifting his position, Bassan took a swig of his water and tossed it down his throat with force.
Screw you, Witz.
Bassan capped the water and slid it back into its holster. Staring blankly ahead, he imagined a normal day on Tgren instead. Awaken early. Ride his bike to the ancient Kintal ship. Delve into the ship’s database. And its history. So many trips into his ancestors’ past.
I wish I could escape there now. Hear a Kintal music piece played thousands of years ago. Watch the Tgrens tame the desert and leap forward in technology. Say-vee! What a moment to savor.
He focused on the sand nestled around the base of the stunted trees. Nothing about it suggested life. And yet, here the vegetation grew. The Tgren faced those tiny grains on their own planet and conquered them. Then and now.
I need to visit the Kintals’ home world next time. I’ve been so focused on their technology, I ignored all else. I need to see how they lived. Maybe they lived in paradise. I’m sure they didn’t live in such wretched sand.
Almost on cue, the sand in front of him shifted. Bassan leaned back and blinked.
Am I seeing things?
The grains parted and a small head appeared. Burnt in the same red as the tree above, the reptilian head blinked all four eyes at him. Used to the desert creatures on Tgren, Bassan smiled.
“We have a visitor,” he said, his voice low so he wouldn’t startle the creature.
A mental jolt of terror. A noisy shuffle from behind.
Chills raced up Bassan’s spine. Every muscle tensed.
Don’t move, Zendar thought.
Already poised to jump, Bassan shot back. Why?
It’s a xert. One bite and you’re likely a goner.
The head wiggled, exposing more of the creature’s body. Numerous arms appeared, propelling the creature forward. Closer to Bassan.
What do I do? Panic beat at his chest. He locked eyes with the little beast while it coiled its long body onto the sand.
Move back. Very, very slowly.
His body, exhausted from heat and the long trek, refused to budge. Only his eyes cooperated. They bulged so hard, he worried they’d pop from his head. The creature pulled its full length from the sand and coiled into attack mode.
I’m dead.
The beast hissed. Adrenaline kicked up a notch and Bassan forced his body to react. Like a coiled spring, he exploded. Leaping backward, he stretched his frame out to its full length. A blast rang in his ears, and he hit the ground.
A cry burst from his lips. Before he could move again, a hand came down on his arm.
“It’s dead!” Zendar said.
Bassan eyeballed the young man and then the creature. Not much remained of it though. A few smoking entrails and a foot. He closed his eyes and sighed.
A sharp blow to the side of his head jolted Bassan into a defensive crouch. He sought the source and found Witz scowling at him.
“You idiot! What part of moving slowly did you not hear? You’re damned lucky I’m an excellent shot. Nearly blew your damn foot right off.”
Now that Bassan was no longer in mortal danger, Witz’s words rankled him. “I’d like to see you hold still with a xert about to bite you.”
Witz sneered. “I had a clean shot until you moved. Fool. Get a backbone.”
Bassan’s hands curled into fists. “Who are you calling a fool?”
“Enough!” Zendar said, sliding in between them. “The xert is dead. That’s all that matters. Let’s keep it together.”
Emitting a bark of contempt, Witz holstered his weapon and turned away. Bassan stared at the man, anger still boiling in his system. Zendar nudged his shoulder.
Forget about it.
He’s an ass.
Yeah, but he’s our best line of defense out here.
Bassan turned to Zendar.
The young man pressed his lips together tight. For better or worse, we need him. We must get to Jaree. Hang on for another day, all right?
Tongue held tight, Bassan offered a faint nod. Zendar resumed his position on the flat rock. Still clutching the sand, Bassan stared hard at Witz, wishing all manner of evil on him.
When we get off this planet, I hope we leave your ass here.