28 October, 2167. Fourth planet of the COROT-7 system.
Despite his environment suit, Rimes could feel his temperature rising dangerously. The BAS indicated he was holding at thirty-eight point five Celsius. He was roasting on the endless gray-brown sand plains. Although the drugs weren’t killing him, they were enabling him to push his body hard enough that it would fail. His breathing was a roar in the confines of the helmet. He blinked away a torrent of perspiration and checked the time.
Eighty-six minutes before the sun started to set, assuming it was as predictable as the previous two nights.
He opened his helmet and slowed to a less-taxing jog, then a few minutes later to a fast walk. He sucked at the air, ignoring its foul smell. He scanned the horizon, spun and checked again. No green in front of him, no red behind him.
Did I die? Is this some sort of fever dream? How could I get ahead of them so far and not run into my own team?
With his breathing now even, he sealed his suit again. Diagnostics confirmed everything was functioning. Nonplused, he continued on, paying greater attention to the readings. He was closing in on the twelve klick mark, about what he’d expected from the others before they would stop for a short rest.
As he approached the edge of a hollow, he began jogging again, hoping to gain ground on his team. He nearly stumbled when he saw Meyers and the others sitting in the center of the hollow some two hundred meters ahead.
At first, he feared they were a heat-induced hallucination. Not being able to raise them on his earpiece reinforced that fear. Nevertheless, he picked up the pace.
Watanabe saw him first and began jumping up and down, waving him on, returning to him some of the encouragement and hope he’d had for her. Her black hair bounced around her porcelain face. He blinked slowly and focused on his breathing. The mirage sustained.
Munoz stepped forward to embrace Rimes in a smothering hug when he reached the group. “Dean said you nailed one of them with a single shot at three hundred meters, Captain! Nice shooting!”
Meyers extended a hand. “Captain. We weren’t sure what to make of the long delay.”
Rimes expected them all to collapse into so much sand at any moment; they didn’t. “It looked like they might rush me for a bit.” He looked back at his bootprints. “Actually, for the last half hour, I thought I’d lost you somehow.”
Meyers followed Rimes’s eyes. “It’s some sort of dead zone. The deeper in we go, the more it affects us. No comms, the BAS is acting up, and Fontana’s on edge.” Meyers dropped his voice to a whisper. “It’s pissing Theroux off. He’s been pouting ever since Fontana started complaining.”
Rimes examined them again. They were all worn and still showed wounds from the crashes and earlier engagements.
They were real. He really had found them.
Theroux seemed smaller, even more sullen than normal. He stared ahead with eyes narrowed to a microscopic slit. Fontana's face took on a pinched, surly resentfulness while watching Theroux. She ran shaking hands through her fine, blonde hair.
They couldn’t afford petty grievances. Rimes knew he’d have to intervene if things got worse. Everyone appeared as refreshed as he could realistically expect, but he needed to be sure. “How long have you been resting?”
Meyers focused on his helmet display. “Nearly an hour.”
“Ten minutes.” Rimes walked to Andrea’s side and dropped the assault rifle. He dropped next to her with a quiet groan and pulled his water container from his environment suit. He held it out to her without a word.
She took a pull. “Your wrist is healing.”
“So are your bruises.”
“Our people heal quickly.” Andrea rolled her head back and tossed her hair from side to side as a deadly jungle cat might, lolling around, relaxing, ready to hunt. She tilted her head as she studied him. “You killed more of us.”
Rimes nodded. “It’s like I said, we don’t have a choice. If they pursue us, we have to kill them.”
“How many are left?”
“Thirteen. I think.” He thought of giving her a full recounting of what had happened, then thought better of it. Although he was improving in his ability to read people, reading her had proven impossible.
Andrea glanced at the assault rifle. “That’s Liam’s gun. He fancied himself a marksman.”
“He was certainly brave.” Rimes’s admiration was sincere. “He charged me, even though he was wounded. Only my armor and the sand protected me.”
Andrea arched her back, letting her wavy auburn hair brush against him. She looked at him suddenly, checking for a reaction. She smiled and her amber eyes sparkled. “Have you ever thought what it would be like to join us, Rimes? With your prowess, no one would challenge you. You would be a leader of great power, with a large family of your own.”
A family of my own. So it’s not really one big family. Rimes looked away, amazed at the power of a woman’s beauty. Or his own weakness. “I already have a family.” He projected a photo of Molly and the boys onto his palm for Andrea to see.
Andrea looked at them, intrigued. “They seem so frail. Your mate is attractive enough, but is the little one a runt?”
Rimes flushed and shut the image off. She’s never been allowed to work with anything but perfection. He stood and reached down to help her up. “We need to get moving.”
She pressed herself against his hands and looked up at him. He pulled away and saw the challenge in her eyes. She smiled, and he saw the predator he’d seen in Kleigshoen when she’d pursued him. “My child is healthy and strong. I’ve seen her.”
A mother? So young. Are they…breeding? “I’ve made mistakes before, Andrea. I won’t make them again.” He extended his hands once more and she allowed him to help her up without further trouble.
Rimes replaced his water container and moved to the front of the group. He turned and made eye contact with each of them. “We need to press on. If we can manage another five klicks, let’s do it. If we can get more, let’s push for that. While we’re in this dead zone, we’re sitting ducks. So whatever it takes, we need to get it done.”
The message seemed to get through to each of them. He kept the pace modest until he thought they’d gone a klick, then he picked things up. The sun was setting by then, and the dead zone only seemed to intensify; he had to put Munoz between Fontana and Theroux.
Rimes picked up the pace through the next two klicks, then dropped it down again. When they reached the top of a low hill, he called a rest to gauge everyone’s condition.
Despite the threat posed by operating without their BAS systems, it quickly became apparent that he had no choice but to take a break. Fontana and Watanabe were ready to collapse, and Theroux seemed out of sorts and deeply withdrawn. Even Andrea appeared fatigued.
Who am I trying to kid? I’m ready to collapse, too.
Rimes established a watch, taking the first two-hour shift with Kershaw. They passed the first half-hour in silence, watching back along their path with what little light the moons offered. When Rimes found himself struggling to stay awake, he called Kershaw closer.
“Yeah, Captain?”
“When the genies were approaching my position this morning, what did you see?”
Kershaw sniffed and rubbed his nose with a gloved hand. “I didn’t really catch them until you told me they’d sent the shooters, Captain. I mean, the BAS was tracking them, but…“ He shrugged, embarrassed.
“What about at the shuttle? Did you see anything they did we could take advantage of?”
“They’re so fast. Everything I did was a reaction, y’know? I’d be fine going one-on-one, but when there’s so many, it’s just a struggle to survive.”
“But before they were on us, when I was in the sand, what did you see?”
Kershaw closed his eyes, maybe to remember the moment, maybe just for the peace. Finally, he said, “It wasn’t like watching a human. It was like watching…like a big cat. A tiger or a leopard. I—I wish I could be that graceful and fast. We couldn’t get clean shots.”
“And they shot past you? They didn’t try to overwhelm you?”
“No. Sir.” Kershaw opened his eyes and shook away the memory. “They could have, but most ran through the shuttle opening.”
“Keep that in mind for future tactics, okay?”
Kershaw went silent for several seconds. Rimes glanced at Kershaw and realized he was deep in thought. With so much happening in the last few days, Rimes wondered how they all managed to stay in the moment.
He returned his gaze to the path.
“Captain?”
“Yeah?”
“This signal, you really think it’s something to check out? It’s not a trap or a decoy?”
“I don’t know. It could be anything, it could be nothing. We have to approach it cautiously.”
Kershaw smiled softly. “Do they teach you how not to answer questions in OCS?”
Rimes almost chuckled, but his dry throat protested. “Yeah.”
“Seriously, though. Doesn’t it seem odd to you we’d crash, what, seventy, eighty klicks out from this thing, whatever it turns out to be? On a planet this size, we just happen to go down here?”
“It is odd.” Odd? Improbable would be an understatement. And the glitch? They’d been having trouble with damn near everything since they’d discovered the Erikson in orbit around the planet. The SOS and now the dead zone only made him more uncomfortable.
“You believe in anything, Sir?” Kershaw bowed his head, embarrassed. “Some sort of god or fate or karma?”
“My father did.” Rimes realized at once he’d unintentionally avoided an answer again. “I don’t, though, no. You?”
Kershaw shook his head. “I’ve read some about the old beliefs. My grandparents were Christians and Hindus, more by habit than by strong belief, you know? They…what they believed…it doesn’t make a lot of sense when you look at what we’ve found. Everyone wanted to believe they were special, I guess, that humans were special and that one person or one group or another had all the answers. But here we are, light years from Earth, and all we’re finding is more questions, right?”
“It sure seems that way. So you’re not thinking this signal is some sort of miracle?”
“A miracle?” Kershaw looked at the sky glumly. “If I were a believer, I don’t think I’d see it that way at all.”