Once again, moving downhill helped, and the need to go slowly played in my favor. On the open ground, the star and moon light were enough to see a few meters, but no more than that. The rest of the world disappeared into inky blackness. My biggest fear was stumbling into an ambush.
I stopped when I reached the body of a fallen Orrkasi trooper. The ugly alien was laying on its back with a hole the size of my fist through the middle of its chest; the Gnashii was a frightening weapon. I couldn’t help but imagine my own body with a hole burned through the flesh. I didn’t want to be killed and left lying in the dirt, my vacant eyes staring up at nothing. Perhaps it wasn’t any worse than being jettisoned from a starship to float for eternity in the void of space or being burned down to ashes in a crematorium. Dead is dead, but that didn’t make it any more inviting. What made me stop wasn’t the presence of a dead Orc but rather the strange weapon that was tucked into a folded holster on the fat alien’s belly. I had never seen the Orcs fight with anything other than their plasma rifles and the big knives they sometimes carried. The weapon in the holster was a pistol of sorts but looked more like a tactical blaster rifle to me. It was longer than my forearm from elbow to fingertips and as wide as my hand with my fingers splayed out. I pulled it out and looked at the weapon. It was hard to see in the darkness, but I could hold it—not by the handle, which was too big around, but if I used both hands, I could make it work. I was short on power for the Gnashii and needed to salvage what I could. So I took the pistol and the Orc’s large, curved knife before pressing on.
I walked slowly, leaning on the shaft of my spear, keeping my head on a swivel. I even turned to look behind me every three or four steps. I had the Orc weapons tucked into my backpack, which was heavy enough to make the straps dig painfully into my shoulders. Once upon a time I had plenty of muscles around my shoulders and neck, but captivity and the subsequent illness had taken a heavy toll on my body. I knew if I pushed myself too hard, I would drop from exhaustion. And if I was left out in the open, exposed to the blazing sun, Leonis B would do in just one day what the Orcs had tried and failed to accomplish for years.
I wanted to go south, to find my friends and return to the comforts of our basecamp in the mountains. But the Orcs expected me to go that direction, and it would have exposed me to them—at least that was my fear. I really had no idea where the Orcs were in the darkness. So I moved north. If they were tracking me, I couldn’t risk taking them back to the group of survivors from the Rihla . My job was to survive for as long as possible. If the Orrkasi were tracking me, that meant they had fewer resources to hunt down the others.
The sound of heavy breathing was the first clue that I wasn’t alone. Orcs are large creatures, and even when they’re at rest, they sound like a large person struggling to get enough air. Since the war began, we had learned about our enemy. The Orrkasi breathed oxygen and nitrogen just like us, although there was debate about the optimal mixture of those gases.
I heard the heavy huff of an Orrkasi trooper before I was close enough to see it. My muscles tensed, and fear made me want to turn and run. But I wasn’t a coward, and that meant I could overcome my fears to do what needed to be done. I wanted to shrug out of my heavy load, but I might have to make a run for it, and I couldn’t afford to lose my gear. If there were more than one, I would be in real trouble, but I dared not use my weapon. One shot would reveal exactly where I was, and I couldn’t risk that. Instead, I lowered my spear and rushed toward the sound of the breathing.
One second there was nothing but darkness, the next I saw the shadowy form of an Orrkasi warrior. The alien was twice my size but was turned to the side. In the darkness, it was easy to get turned around. The Orc didn’t see me until it was too late. It was just turning toward me with a growl when my spear thrust into its neck. The Orc jerked back and tried to call out, but only managed a pathetic gurgle. It dropped the heavy rifle and grabbed the gaping wound in its fat throat. Blood was spilling down the front of its uniform, its narrow eyes locked on me as it dropped to one knee. I didn’t wait to see what the Orc would do. There’s no place for mercy in combat—not when your life is on the line. I thrust the spear forward again, and the tip glanced over the Orc’s cheekbone and slid up through its eye. The metal only penetrated a few centimeters, but it was enough to reach the Orc’s brain. The big alien stiffened, then jerked backward. It shuddered on the ground for a moment, then lay still.
I stood listening for several minutes. It might have been better to move on, but I needed to listen for anyone approaching in the darkness. It was silent all around me, and I pushed on. I walked for hours, unsure of where I was going. I got lucky enough to stumble onto a small pool of water. I used the filter to draw enough water to fill my bottles and drank some before moving on. The night seemed endless, and I was well past my limits when I found myself moving downhill again. In the darkness, I couldn’t see what I was crawling down into—I say “crawling” because the descent at places was steep. Mounds of slick rock led down, and I would sit on my butt and scoot to keep from falling. The sun came up before I reached the bottom of the canyon I had climbed down. I had no idea if I was still going north. It’s easy to get lost in the darkness and walk around in circles. I tried to stay facing the same stars, but I was so tired, I might have gotten confused.
Fortunately for me, the sun came up and I made the climb down the last hundred meters, which turned out to be very steep. At the bottom, I found the sandy ground much softer. There was no stream running through the canyon, but grass grew lush, and there were trees. I kept moving until I found a place under a rocky overhang that was surrounded by trees. The moment I dropped my pack and lay down, I fell asleep.
Waking up to the roar of Orrkasi ships was becoming a bad habit. It took me a moment to remember where I was. Sitting up, I looked around at the lush foliage of the canyon. There were grass, wildflowers, bushes, trees, and the rugged beauty of the canyon walls. But what really surprised me was how good I felt. I had slept well and was feeling rested. It was the first time since being captured by the Orcs that I didn’t wake up in pain. Getting to my feet, I waited for dizziness to strike, but it didn’t. My left leg and arm were stiff, but that was normal. I hobbled out from under the rocky overhang and looked up. The sky was brilliant above me, but it was late enough in the day that the sun wasn’t directly overhead. Neither was the ship I could hear. It was making a slow pass, probably looking for me.
To my surprise it didn’t land, and there was no sign of Orrkasi troopers. The world went back to a quiet, peaceful place. I did some stretches, then returned to where I had been sleeping. My rations were almost gone; I had two protein bars and one meal pouch left. As I nibbled on a peanut butter and chocolate protein bar, I considered my options. Part of me longed for the freedom to just stay where I was. The idea of fighting in the canyon wasn’t ideal—not just because of the tactical difficulties, but because I didn’t want to mar the canyon’s beauty with weapons’ fire and death. Of course, just staying where I was held problems of its own. I was running out of food and wouldn’t last long without water. Despite the risk of being seen, I decided to press on after eating half of the protein bar. The canyon offered cover, and it was much easier traveling by day than by night. I had no idea what direction I was going, but I liked being in the lush terrain instead of the desert plains.
It didn’t take long before I found a stream and was able to refill my water bottles. As I was doing that, I noticed a fat creature watching me. It wasn’t a rabbit, but it looked like one. The animal had long ears, sleek fur, and a fat body. It hopped around, nibbling grass, and seemed unafraid of me. I considered killing the creature. Fresh meat was a rare and highly sought-after treat in the Fleet Marine Corps, but I decided against it. Killing an animal for sustenance would require me to build a fire to cook the meat, and I couldn’t imagine doing something that might draw the Orcs to me.
Continuing on, I saw more wildlife—mostly small creatures—but at one point, a larger animal that reminded me of a deer bounded away when I got too close. It was obviously late in the year, which I surmised by the falling leaves off the trees. But I saw evidence of fruit and nuts. Berries on many of the bushes in the canyon had been mostly picked by the wildlife, but traces remained. I was beginning to see the possibilities of the settling on Leonis B. The resources were abundant, if a person knew where to look.
When the sun went down that evening, I stopped for the night in one of the many places where the canyon walls overhung the ravine floor. I wasn’t even all that tired. Walking on the soft grass was much easier on my body, and it wasn’t nearly as hot down in the canyons. I might have pressed on, except I didn’t know where I was going, and something drew me to one of the overhangs. As daylight faded, I noticed there were traces of something embedded in the rock. I moved into the overhang and saw a slight glow from some trace mineral in the canyon wall. It glittered like ice crystals and spread across the rock like lightning crackling across the night sky. I dropped my packs and lay down to stare up at the entrancing sight. It felt good after a day of hiking to lie back and relax. My fears seemed far away, and it didn’t take long before I was sleepy. After eating the rest of the protein bar and drinking some water, I fell into an easy, restful sleep.
The next morning, I woke at dawn and set out again. I followed the canyon, which began to slope upward. It was a gentle grade, hardly noticeable at first. But soon the vegetation grew thin and the soil rockier. That’s when I heard the sounds. At first I thought it was the wind keening, as it sometimes did on Earth, but it was punctuated by barks. The sounds were faint and far away, which made them difficult to make out. I decided to climb out of the canyon and have a look around. The climb was harder than I expected. The walls of the canyon were steep, sloping walls of bulging rock. Most of the rock was smooth, so getting up them required a crawling motion. It wore me out quickly and took three times longer than I expected. More than once my bad leg cramped, forcing me to stop climbing and rub the muscles until they relaxed.
When I finally reached the top of the canyon, I rolled onto the flat ground. It was hot. I was exhausted and lay there panting for a few minutes. In the distance I could see that something was happening. There was an Orc ship—a transport, from the looks of it. I pulled my Gnashii to my shoulder and looked through the digital scope. The ship was being loaded with crates that I couldn’t identify. Getting up and walking around wasn’t the best idea—not when the Orrkasi might catch sight of me—so I crawled to some scrubby bushes and spread the parachute over me.
During my time on Leonis B, the sage-like bushes had seemed lush. After spending time down in the grassy canyon, the bushes seemed almost prickly. The bluish foliage on the brush looked scant in comparison to the leafy shrubbery in the canyon. Still, it was good camouflage, which was what I was after. I needed the cover and the shade. The sun was pounding down, and I could feel the heat of the ground beneath me soaking into my body. Leonis B was not as hospitable as I’d thought when I was in the heavy armor suit.
It wasn’t long before the transport was loaded with crates. It fired up its engines and lifted off in a much smoother manner than Jordan or I had managed. I rolled onto my side to watch it travel and was surprised that it kept going up and up. Eventually, it became clear that the ship wasn’t traveling back to the settlement, but rather up into orbit. I couldn’t imagine why the ship was heading off-world and turned my attention back to the activity in the distance. The range finder on the digital scope showed a group of buildings and a few Orrkasi sleep domes that looked like mushrooms half a kilometer from my position. But what really drew my eye was a large, well-supported opening in the side of a small butte. It wasn’t the same butte where I had fought the Orcs just a few days before; the one I was looking at was smaller but similar in appearance. The jutting red rock seemed to rise up out of the desert floor to a small plateau. I saw two Orcs come out of the tunnel in the side of the rock formation with a strange creature between them: it was a four-legged beast with shaggy hair on its back and legs.
Focusing the digital scope on the new creature, I found it looked like a large dog, only the head was completely different. It had a long snout with what appeared to be wide bone plate right on top. It came to a point just past the snout, widened across the animal’s forehead, and formed a shield above its neck. It made me think of a triceratops skull, but without the horns and not as large. The Orcs had the canine creature leashed to long poles, which they held like animal control specialists. As I watched, they began to kick the poor beast. Once more the keening sound reached my ears as the beast howled in pain.
I’m not a dog person. Growing up in Alaska, we had dogs, but mostly to warn us if large predators were nearby. I hated feeding dogs and cleaning up after them. But when I saw the Orcs beating the flat-headed creature, I acted on instinct. Before I even knew what I had done, I was on my feet with the Orrkasi pistol in hand. I moved as quickly as my stiff body would allow me, scanning for more Orcs. Fortunately, the pair with the four-legged beast were so occupied with their cruelty that they didn’t see me. When I was only fifty meters from them, I fired the pistol. It made a loud popping sound and shot out a canister that hit the first Orc and splattered the brute with plasma. His flesh vaporized in a cloud of bluish smoke, leaving a gaping wound that continued to grow as the plasma burned through him. He toppled over, and his companion looked frantically around for me. Holding the alien weapon was strange. I couldn’t really aim it, but fortunately I was close enough that there was little chance of missing my target. I pulled the trigger again, and the shot took the second Orc in the stomach. He doubled over, wailing in agony as the plasma burned into his flesh. It took him longer than I had hoped to die, and the Orc made too much noise. I expected dozens of troopers to come to his aid, but no one did.
I knew it was very possible that my shots had been heard. I stood patiently, holding the large pistol the way a child might wield some outlandishly large toy gun, and scanned the buildings. There was no movement, and nothing came from the opening in the side of the butte. The four-legged creature seemed unsure of what do as its tormentors dropped dead on either side of the pitiful creature. After turning a few circles, it began trotting toward the canyon. Unfortunately, the leashes were still around its neck, and the beast was forced to drag the poles. Under different circumstances, I might have let the creature escape into the canyon, the way I had done a couple of nights before, but I knew the poles around its neck would eventually cost the beast its life. I dropped the pistol and hobbled after the creature. It looked back at me and moaned in a pitiful fashion. I got the distinct impression that it was begging me not to catch it. I managed to get my foot on one of the poles. The creature whimpered but didn’t resist. I reached down, picked up the pole, then pressed the release tab. The leash, which had been tight around the four legged beast’s neck, loosened until I was able to lift it away.
A look of hope entered the creature’s eyes. It held its heavy head up to look at me from under the bone shield. I was close to it—only a couple meters away—and could see the thick dust and dirt all over its body. The fan-shaped shield on its head was coated in clods of soil, but I also saw traces of the glowing mineral that I had seen on the walls of the canyon. The creature moaned a little but looked relieved as I removed the leash.
“Don’t worry,” I said softly, looking back at the buildings to make sure an Orc didn’t get the jump on me. “I’ll get this other one off, and you can make a run for it.”
I moved around the four-legged creature, which seemed to tremble with anticipation. It only took a moment to lift the pole and flip the trigger that released the leash. I had experienced having a shackle around my neck, and I didn’t wish it on anyone. As the cable detached, the creature bounded away, running toward the canyon. Watching it go, I lifted my hand. Sometimes things happen that can’t be explained. For some reason, the creature looked back. I can’t say why—maybe it felt something from me, or maybe it smelled the Orc who had come silently from the tunnel and was taking aim at my back. The creature slid to a stop and shouted, “Cho!”
I say “shouted” because of the strange voice of the animals. It sounded like a human shouting at me, not a four-legged hairy creature that looked to be part-dog, part-dinosaur. But it was the look of terror in its eyes that alerted me to the danger. I moved without thought, just the way I had been trained. I can’t say I spun around—it was more of a lurch—but I turned and stumbled a little just as a jet of plasma was fired. It flew past me but was close enough that I could feel the heat. I dove for the Orc’s pistol that I had dropped. Hitting the ground was excruciating, but my adrenaline had kicked in and I hardly noticed. Another jet of super-heated plasma gel flew over me as I grabbed the pistol and rolled. My shot was taken completely on instinct alone. I pushed the weapon forward and pulled the trigger. The gun fired with its almost comical popping sound. The Orc fired simultaneously. I rolled, and the plasma splashed along the ground beside me. I had to keep moving, rolling across the ground to escape the heat. I didn’t even realize that some of the plasma had splashed onto me. It was only the tiniest amount, but the gel burned deep.
My shot hit the Orc in its shoulder. It wasn’t a kill shot but caused the big alien to drop its rifle. It bent low for a moment, wailing in rage and pain, then charged me. I was only twenty-five meters away; there was no chance that I could get to my feet in time to hold off the huge brute. I fired again, and my second shot hit the Orc in the leg. It kept coming two more steps, then fell hard just a few meters away from me. I could smell the Orc’s burning flesh. Blood was boiling into a greasy blue smoke above the Orrkasi trooper, who was still crawling toward me. I pushed myself up onto my good leg. It trembled as I forced myself to stand. My left leg felt so weak that I didn’t think it would hold me up, but it was enough to steady me. I took three steps back away from the Orc and ended its suffering with a final shot to the head.
From behind me I heard a strange, weak-sounding howl. I turned to see the four-legged creature with the bone shield on its head. It yipped at me, but I didn’t have time to worry about the animal. I hobbled back to where my gear lay under the parachute. The Orrkasi pistol had fired its last plasma cartridge, and I hurled it into the canyon. I went slowly down onto my good knee and rolled under the parachute. I had a stabbing pain in my bad hip, but there was no time to worry about that. I picked up my Gnashii and looked through the scope. I kept the weapon trained on the tunnel opening. The hairy creature continued to howl. The sound was both sad and fearful. Silently I cursed myself for risking my life for the animal. Once the adrenaline began to ebb from my system, it seemed ridiculous that I would do something so foolish.
And then something unexpected happened: a host of the four-legged creatures trotted out of the tunnel. Some had wide canvas sacks strapped across their backs. Others were streaked with blue blood from the Orcs. The one I had rescued hurried across to the others and yipped excitedly before turning to look at me.
“I guess you can see me,” I said. “But you saw me crawl down here.”
I used the spear to help me get back up to my feet. There didn’t seem to be any more Orcs, and I didn’t want to stick around if more were going to show up. I got my pack on and was folding up the parachute when the animals began to approach me. It was impossible to know who was more frightened. There were nearly twenty of the beasts, and they could have attacked me if they wanted. I had the spear, but my rifle was still on the ground.
“You should get out of here,” I said, “before they come back.”
The creature I had rescued stepped toward me, then hunched low and whined a little. I felt bad for them, but I guessed they were better off on their own. I didn’t have to wonder about the cages the Orcs were using to keep hostages in anymore. They had brought the canine creatures in them, but I didn’t know why.
The one I had saved got up and came around to my left side. It lifted its head to my hip and sniffed. I looked down and saw a ragged hole in my filthy, makeshift uniform. The edges of the fabric were black, and there was pink fluid running from a small hole in my flesh. The canine animal whined a little, then looked up at me.
“It’s okay,” I said. “That’s a fake hip, anyway.”
The burn hurt, but I wasn’t lying. Had the plasma burned into my hipbone, it would have been a debilitating injury. But my artificial hip was made of medical-grade plastic and had no nerve endings. I could see the wound and feel the burned skin, but that was all.
I bent down and picked up my Gnashii. It was long, and I slung the paracord strap over my head and let the weapon hang there. I didn’t want the four-legged creatures to think I was threatening them.
“I have to go,” I told the animals, pointing past the little settlement.
I don’t think they understood me, but as I hobbled forward, they got the idea. One ran toward the cluster of buildings. The rest crowded around me. I could see that they were covered in dirt, and in the containers that some of them wore like open saddlebags strapped across their bodies, was the glowing mineral I had seen down in the canyon.
“What is that stuff?” I wondered aloud.
The four-legged animals stopped moving, and I bent down and picked up a small stone from the bag of the nearest animal. The stone was light but hard. It reminded me of aluminum, only it was glowing.
“I can’t imagine what they use this for,” I said.
The creatures herded me away from the tunnel. Part of me wanted to go inspect what the Orcs had built. I realized then that they probably weren’t tracking me when they sent their troopers to the butte I had found myself on a few days ago when recovering from my illness. They didn’t want me; they were looking for something in the rock, probably planning another mining operation.
We went past one of the small buildings, and I saw that it was just for storage. There were more of the small baskets like the ones strapped across my new friends, and there were stacks of empty crates waiting to be filled. Another of the buildings appeared to be a tiny mess hall. I thought of going in, but the four-legged creatures seemed afraid of it. Perhaps, I thought, the creatures were their food source. My stomach quivered at the thought of seeing the remains of the creatures the Orcs had butchered. We moved past the sleeping domes. There were six of them. I had killed three Orcs, and two had gone up in the transport. That left at least one, or maybe more. I checked the charge on my Gnashii. It was a nervous habit, but I felt better seeing a full charge on the weapon’s battery power. I flicked the safety off and adjusted the rifle on its sling so that I could hold the pistol grip with my free hand.
Beyond the initial buildings and sleep domes was a larger structure. It had large doors on either side, and I could see that there were tools and equipment inside. The creature who had gone ahead of us appeared from in the building and shouted, “Cho!”
To my surprise, they started talking to one another. I couldn’t understand them, but I could tell they were intelligent creatures and not like dogs at all. They clearly had a language, and I felt suddenly guilty; I had judged them to be less intelligent just because they reminded me of dogs.
Several dashed into the building and jumped into the back of what appeared to be a flatbed cargo vehicle. It had a wide bench seat and a cargo platform behind it. The creature I had saved nudged me toward the vehicle and then went ahead of me. It jumped up on the wide bench seat and raised its head.
“You want me to drive this thing?” I said, hoping I was right.
“Whovat!” the creature yipped.
I stepped onto the vehicle. The controls were even simpler than those of the Orrkasi transport. There was a red button I took to be the ignition switch. Beside it was a simple yoke. I pressed the button, and the vehicle rose up into the air as the repulsors powered on.
“I’m going to find my friends,” I told the creatures. “I know you don’t understand me, but it’s that way.” I pointed southwest, hoping that I could find the mountains and that the basecamp had not been discovered by the Orrkasi.
“You’re welcome to come with me,” I told the creatures, waving my hand in a “follow me” gesture.
There was almost enough room on the flat bed for the canine creatures. Most got on board, but a few others were content to trot alongside as I steered the cargo vessel away from the Orrkasi camp.