Horizon Alpha, page 10
Caleb and I had watched her over the ravine. She wouldn’t get near the edge. Adam grabbed her arm and tried to pull her toward the ropes, and she bolted away into the jungle. I had wanted to cross back over and try to find her, but Caleb said we had to go on without her. He was right. We couldn’t risk the rest of the group to try and bring back one wayward member. And I doubted I’d have any better luck getting her out onto those ropes than Adam had. But it was devastating to walk away, knowing one of our own was left on the other side, defenseless in a jungle she had no idea how to survive in.
She’d obviously done well. Maybe she’d been dead for a while, and the Rex had just found her, but I doubted it. If something else had killed her, there wouldn’t have been enough left for me to see the color of her shirt. Somehow she’d survived longer than I would have ever imagined out on her own. Until now.
“Fly free, Cari Cooper,” I murmured as the baby Rex made the bright blue shirt disappear.
Chapter 21
Caleb
Word got out about the possibility of the Flood coming to our valley. Everybody in Carthage knew that my dad and the others were still alive up on Horizon, but we had tried to keep secret the possibility that a hoard of little hungry ‘saurs might swarm us in just over a month. There was no point in panicking everybody when we were doing all we could.
We shouldn’t have worried. Most of our people didn’t believe it would happen here. We’d never seen a Flood at our old base, and they couldn’t imagine we weren’t safe here. But I’d seen so much more out in the jungle than they had. And I trusted Nirah. There was nothing more we could do until Shiro’s team got back with the parts for the shuttle, but I chafed inside with nothing to do to prepare for what I believed was coming.
Staci was at my side every step I took. She hadn’t forgiven me for leaving on the mission to retrieve Nirah’s people without saying goodbye. But I was never big on goodbyes. There had been too many. Mom said she had spent every day next to my bed while I was unconscious, only leaving to eat. She hadn’t forgiven me for waking up when she wasn’t there, either, but she made sure I always had a plate of food, and a padded spot to sit in the sunshine on the plateau, soaking in the heat while we waited for word from Shiro.
My strength was coming back slower than I liked, and I leaned on Staci as we headed outside in the cool of the morning. Ryenne was already out at the little shed where her young ‘saur pets slept, and as we approached, I could see that Carmen was helping her clean up their fenced yard.
“Caleb!” Ryenne dropped her rake and ran over to throw her arms around me. “Are you all right? Your mom said you were awake but I shouldn’t come visit so you could rest.”
I grinned at my cousin. “I’m okay. Not ready to take on a Rex quite yet, but I’m getting there.”
Her eyes darted back to where her ‘saurs were poking their noses out the shed door. “They’re growing so fast. Sara says they’ll start laying eggs pretty soon.”
Carmen snorted. “That’s the last thing I want to see here.”
I turned to look at her. “What do you mean? We need more of these little guys all laying eggs as soon as we can. Eggs are really delicious.”
She shook her head. “Not these kind, whatever they are. I know eggs are good. We used to dig them up back at our old camp.”
“Dig them up?” I shared a glance with Staci. We didn’t know of any ‘saurs that buried their eggs.
“Yeah,” she said. “The Flood beasts.” She never called them ‘saurs. Probably hadn’t realized they were dinosaurs at all. “They would come through every year. When the females came back through a couple of weeks later, we killed all we could. But some of them didn’t get through, anyway. Most of them headed off north to lay their eggs, where it’s cooler I guess, but some of them stopped in our area. Maybe tired, I don’t know. They’d dig a deep hole and crawl into it, and pull the dirt back on top of themselves. Nirah dug some up later and found out they were laying their eggs underground, then dying right on top of them. When the eggs hatched, the babies would eat the dead mother before digging themselves out. That’s when they’d head south.”
I gaped at her. Sara had never talked about any kind of ‘saur doing that. She was going to flip when she heard this.
Carmen looked around the valley. “If they come through here, there will probably be some. Probably not many, ‘cause most of them make it way farther north. That’s where the millions of them hatch out. North somewhere. But I bet we could find some here if we looked.”
All my weariness flowed away. “Do you know where they’d be?”
Sara will freak if we bring her Flood eggs. And everyone would stop doubting they were coming, and . . . I trailed off that thought. And panic. But we had to look.
Carmen set down the bucket she was carrying and pointed across the field. “They like that kind of pine tree. If they’re here, that’s where they’ll be.”
All four of us looked at each other for a moment.
“Hand me that shovel and let’s go.” I held out my hand and Ryenne snorted. “I’ll carry it. You’re not strong enough yet.”
We left the ‘saur pen, closing the gate behind us. Ryenne’s babies chirped at the fence as we walked away.
“They sure do love you,” Staci said. “It’s cool that they think you’re their mom.”
Ryenne made a face. “I’m just glad they’re not Flood ‘saurs. Don’t want them eating my dead body.”
Past the orchard of fruit trees on the other side of the lake was a small copse of pine trees. They had long, soft needles and the air smelled crisp and fresh.
“Here. Let’s look here,” Carmen said. “Back where we were, they always buried themselves near this kind of tree. There are a lot more of them the farther north you go, apparently.”
It took all morning to find the mound Carmen was looking for. I let the girls do most of the walking, content to sit in the cool shade among the fallen pine needles. At the sound of Carmen’s yell, I jumped to my feet and jogged over to where she stood.
“Here.” She pointed to a small mound of dirt mostly covered in dry pine. “Dig here.”
I reached for the shovel, but Staci grabbed it faster. “You sit,” she said with a frown at me. “I’ll dig.”
It only took her a few minutes of scraping at the dry soil.
“Oh, gross.” She jumped back from the hole. “There’s something squishy in there. It stinks.”
It did stink. I grabbed the shovel and uncovered a small, putrefying mound of flesh. It was about the size of my head, soft and smelly. The skull was flat and full of teeth, and it appeared to have four legs, though the shovel had destroyed three of them.
Carmen stared into the hole.
“The eggs will be underneath the body.”
They were.
Each one larger than my fist, they had soft, leathery shells. I used the shovel to move the remains of the mother aside and scooped one of the eggs up. The shovel’s blade tore the soft shell easily, and a thick, yellow fluid oozed out, followed by a small, curled-up green lump.
It moved when I touched it.
“Leave it alone!” Carmen had backed up into the trees, and peered out through the branches. “It might be ready to hatch.”
It wasn’t. Even I could tell that. But when I uncurled the sticky little half-formed thing, it had the same flat, tooth-filled head as its dead mother.
There were at least thirty eggs in the hole. I took off my shirt and piled the eggs on it, making a little carrying pouch.
Sara’s going to freak out. And so is everyone else.
The Flood had passed through this valley last year.
They were coming.
Chapter 22
Shiro
The next morning Godzilla was gone. We hadn’t heard anything in the night, and didn’t bother keeping watch once we were all safely inside the transport. Godzilla had been venturing farther from the nest, while Ani and Little Runt stayed closer under the protective wing of the transport. I crouched on the roof of the ship, scanning the clearing, but the little bully was nowhere to be seen. When Mama Rex returned from her hunting trip, she smelled all around the clearing, nostrils flaring, before she herded the remaining two babies into the remnants of the nest. She kept watch all day and we all huddled inside the stifling transport waiting for her to leave.
Nirah was chafing, pacing around the dim interior.
Don, as ever, was needling her with questions. “Could we remove a couple of the control rods and get more thrust?”
I leaned back against the transport wall. They were always going on like that.
“If we remove the control rods, we risk overheating the fission reactor. They’re called control rods for a reason.”
Don grabbed her trans, scowling at the calculations. “It wouldn’t explode. But it might give us enough power to leave atmosphere.”
They argued in technical terms I didn’t understand.
Adam emerged from the cockpit of the transport. “I got through to Carthage for a couple of minutes. Talked to the Mayor. Caleb is okay.”
All the breath left me in a whoosh. Caleb is okay. Thank the shining stars.
“But Carmen found something in our valley,” Adam continued. “The sat was breaking up, but it was something about eggs. I couldn’t hear everything, but he just kept saying, ‘It’s coming. It’s coming.’”
Nirah cursed. “I told them and nobody listened. Flood ‘saurs bury their eggs. If they found them in the valley, then we’re right in their path.”
“Are we doing all this for nothing?” He pulled a piece of dried meat out of our shared stash, which was growing alarmingly small.
I shrugged. “They’ll figure something out. No way we could get all the way to Tau Ceti e from Earth but can’t figure out how to make a rocket launch.”
Nirah glared at me. “We’re not launching a rocket. We’re trying to get a shuttle high enough in the air. The higher it is, the less drag from air in the atmosphere. If we get the shuttle high enough, it will get easier to fly and should be able to make it into orbit. That’s what they were designed to do.”
She thought for a moment. “The old rockets on earth were launched straight up. They were basically a capsule sitting on a huge bomb that shot them right up into the sky.”
“So let’s make one,” I said.
Don snorted. “We don’t have anywhere near what we’d need to redesign a shuttle and build booster rockets.”
The shuttle vibrated. Mama Rex was on the move.
“Maybe we don’t have to.” Nirah’s face was lit by the trans in her hands. “If we could create a big enough explosion right under the shuttle, if it was already flying straight up . . .” She dove back into her calculations. After a few moments she grinned at Don. “I think we need to remove some control rods.”
Adam and I looked at each other, obviously thinking the same thing. She’s nuts.
Don said it first. “You’re insane. Nobody would risk a launch like that. No way Borin will ever authorize it. Not just to rescue a dozen people, no matter who they are.” His voice choked on the last bit.
“Don’s right,” I said. “We’ve done some risky things to rescue people before, but you’re talking about a nuclear blast. Almost certain death for whoever is in that shuttle.” I shook my head. “Nobody’s going to fly that mission.”
Nirah’s foot tapped on the transport floor, scattering dust that sparkled in the sunlight that streamed through the window. “It’s the best I’ve got for now.” She glanced out the window toward the Rex nest. “If we ever get out there to salvage, we’ll take everything we can. I’ll try to figure out some other way once we get back with the parts. Maybe with a couple months’ work . . .”
I followed her gaze out the window. Nirah would think of something. If we ever get out of this stifling transport and past that Rex.
***
Mama Rex didn’t leave her babies the next day, but the following morning she pounded out of the clearing. We scattered out of the transport, me climbing the ladder in the cargo bay to pop out the hatch on top and take my customary position under the solar panel’s shade.
The two remaining babies, Ani and Little Runt, were rolling around in the middle of the circle, obviously relieved to be out from under Mama’s watchful eye. She hadn’t let them leave the nest for an entire day and night, and they were full of energy, and clumsy as they grew so fast. I grinned as I watched them at play. Soon they’d be fearful monsters, but today they looked like every movie I’d ever seen of puppies playing on someone’s living room floor.
I never heard it coming.
Across the far side of the clearing, a huge iridescent black shape slithered into view.
Titanoboa.
I gave the whistle for the team to get inside, but couldn’t take my eyes off the enormous snake creeping between the transports.
Right toward the babies. They huddled inside the nest, shaking with terror.
It was stupid, I know. The stupidest thing I could have done. If I’d stopped for two seconds to think, I would have hopped inside the transport and let the scatting snake eat those babies.
But I didn’t. I raised my rifle and shot it right in the face.
The bullets bounced off, of course, and the snake paused in its approach, tongue flicking in and out, tasting the air. In a moment, it resumed its slither, heading for the baby Rexes.
I shot it six more times.
Shiro, you are an idiot. What on Ceti are you doing?
The snake reared up and hissed at me, black eyes boring into mine.
If Caleb were here, he’d never do anything this stupid.
I didn’t even notice the shaking of the earth, and neither did the Boa. From between the transports, Mama Rex burst into the clearing, snapping her huge jaws around the snake’s tail and shaking it like a dog. It flew out of her grasp and bounced off my transport, rocking the side. I dropped to my belly, hanging on to the solar panel’s mooring as the ship swayed under me.
The Boa darted straight at Mama Rex. She stood in front of the nest, blocking her babies from the Boa’s attack, and roared her challenge. The sound made my stomach drop right out of my body.
Idiot. Stupid, stupid, stupid.
The Boa feinted to the right and Mama missed her lunge. She snapped again at the huge predator, which latched its huge jaws onto her neck, coiling the top of its body around her upper torso. She strained and grabbed for its tail, but the Boa whipped itself out of range of her teeth, wrapping coil after coil around her. The ground shook as she fell, feet tangled in the writhing black serpent.
I knew how this ended.
Mama Rex struggled, and behind her the babies cried pathetic little bleats. The mother Rex was far too big for the Boa to eat, but I had no doubt that as soon as she was dispatched, Little Runt and Ani would join poor Godzilla in the Boa’s stomach.
I’m a good shot. Always have been. Probably the best shot in Carthage. But the shot I made that morning . . . the stupid, stupid shot I made . . .
I jumped to my feet and raised my rifle. You’re an idiot. If Caleb were here . . .
But Caleb wasn’t there. There was only me, Shiro Yamoto, and I made the shot.
The Boa’s left eye exploded as my bullet hit it straight on.
It shuddered and let go of its hold on Mama’s neck.
She reached one giant hind foot up and clawed straight into the snake’s belly, kicking it free as it flung itself around. Her jaws snapped onto its head and crunched.
The Boa shuddered and fell from her shoulders. Mama Rex leaped clear of it and whacked it with her tail, sending it flying straight towards me.
I hit the deck, grabbing for purchase as the transport rocked under me again. The Boa was so close I could smell it, and I peeked over the edge of the transport. It laid there, blood on its shining black scales.
Across the clearing, Mama Rex roared her triumph. The Boa turned and slithered away between the transports, disappearing into the river that flowed next to our abandoned base. I watched it submerge, the last of its tail sinking into the dark water.
“Fly free, Godzilla.”
When I turned back to the clearing, Mama Rex was standing right next to my transport. Blood clotted in the teeth marks left on her neck, and she stared into my eyes.
Oh, scat.
She didn’t move, and for an eternal moment, we regarded each other across the exceptionally small space between us. Her head was as tall as the transport, and I remembered the very first time I had seen a Rex, from this exact vantage point, in the early days before the electric wire.
Once again, there was no electric wire.
She sniffed once, nostrils flaring. I didn’t breathe, eyes locked on hers.
She blinked once, turned around, and crept over to her crying babies.
I scuttled into the open hatch, squeaking it closed behind me.
All afternoon I watched her, ignoring the rebukes of my teammates. Yes, she knew we were here now. Yes, she probably always had. No, we were probably never getting out of here alive.
Mama Rex tended to her babies, occasionally glancing at our transport. She stayed until the sun dropped below the horizon and plunged the camp into the moonless dark.
And the next morning, Mama Rex and her babies were gone.
Chapter 23
Captain’s Personal Journal. Year 3, Day 125
The reactor has failed.
We’re going to have to make a decision soon. Horizon Alpha was supposed to remain in orbit for hundreds of years. When the reactors quit working, as we always knew they eventually would, the solar arrays were supposed to be enough to keep the ship powered, its thrusters keeping Ceti’s gravity from pulling it down to crash on the surface. If a thruster became inoperable, the people on the planet were supposed to be able to initiate a controlled descent with a planned separation of each cylinder, ensuring that the parts of the ship crashed safely in an ocean on the other side of the world from where their colonies would have been.
