Second Wave - 24

Chapter 24

Our next step was to see about descending to the planet's surface. There were a number of things to accomplish first, but I delegated most of them to our two Sunnys and headed back to my cabin on our vessel to take a nap. I don't know what it is about action, but if given the chance, I usually feel much better if I take a nap afterward. We all stopped in the galley area and had some food, and then I told the others to leave me alone for a few hours.

Meanwhile, Whistle had availed himself of the sole remaining shuttle that was attached to the station. It was considerably larger than ours and offered plenty of space for our entire group. When he had that moved and safely attached to one of the docking stations on our FTL's waist, Frazzle fired up the EmDrive and shoved us into a much higher orbit. We were now traveling in an equatorial orbit along with a lot of rocks and dust, almost enough debris to comprise a rudimentary ring system. We'd approached the planet from one of the poles and avoided the ring, but now it made a good place to store the ship while we went and found out what we could about the inhabitants.

Frazzle was going to stay with the ship in case it required moving. I didn't expect any company. The Sunnys on the station had indicated that it would be months before their relief was due, but you never know about things like that. I figured our ship would be safer if it were parked somewhere where it was unobtrusive. I most certainly didn't expect Frazzle to fight the ship if any Pugs came calling. In fact, I gave him specific instructions to head out a few light minutes and find a place to lay low the instant the instruments detected any ship coming out of FTL in the system.

When I woke from my nap, the two guards had packed a full complement of weapons for all four of us humans. Whistle was also going down with us, but he would only carry a light pack with food and miscellaneous supplies for himself.

We boarded the shuttle through the short and cold docking-umbilical and arranged ourselves in the seats as best we could. The seats were a little tight, especially for the big men. The Pugs were notoriously narrow in the hip area. I had to wedge myself into a seat and even Erin filled her seat tightly, although her posterior was trim. Whistle took the pilot station, but before he sat down, he made a disgusted noise and spent some time scrounging around in a cabinet before he came up with something like a towel. The Pug pilot had been a slob, and there were stains all over the pilot's seat. Whistle carefully covered the seat with the fabric and gingerly placed himself on top with a prim expression on his furry face.

Once we were strapped in, he detached the release, and the shuttle floated free with a jerk due to the pneumatic launching mechanism. Once clear, he activated the engine. The Sunnys' shuttles used a form of the EmDrive design and were limited to in-system travel. However, they were still plenty fast. It didn't take us more than an hour to settle into low orbit around the mysterious planet. He maneuvered into a lower orbit, then rotated us and began a braking sequence. When we'd slowed enough to initiate atmospheric entry, he rotated so that we were looking forward again. Then he tested the atmospheric controls.

The shuttle wasn't at all like one of our conventional airplanes, but it did have some control surfaces that used aerodynamic shapes. These checked out, and Whistle turned to me with one of his rather charming expressions (I'd taken to identifying it as a human-like smile since it seemed to serve the same purpose), “Decs, we set for going down. All's OK–”

He was interrupted by the shriek of an alarm and a video display flashing with pulses of yellow. He turned back to the controls and punched a few buttons. “De motor's having problems. De lazy Pugs don't maintenance it, and it's – ” There was a muffled explosion, and the shuttle lurched.

Frank shouted, “What's happening?” The other two just held on and looked at the flashing screen.

The shuttle's interior power flickered, went out for a moment, and then came back on, but the interior lights were now only about half as bright as they'd been before.

Now I was getting worried, “Whistle, what's wrong with it?”

“De motor locked up! We have control powers, but no motors,” was his succinct explanation.

It looked as if we were still in the landing business, but it was obvious that we'd have to do some repair work before we saw orbit again. If things were too bad, we might have to wait for help from Frazzle. Thinking of that, I activated the communicator and called him.

“Frazzle, we've got engine problems and may not be able to take off again. If we make it down in one piece, I'll call you to come pick us up with the smaller shuttle.”

“I have to make two trips to get all. I can do dat with no problems,” was the quick response.

Having a potential rescue close at hand calmed everyone down and left us with only one item to worry about—the landing.

Whistle did a good job piloting us down. He got into contact with the station and they sent us the location of the original landing on the planet. The Pugs had set up a large camp and there was the possibility that there was still an active transporter at that location. It had been powered down and disconnected from the power system in an excess of caution. The Pug-bears didn't care for the way they'd been treated by the locals and wanted no chance that they'd be able to transport themselves off the surface. Even so, they hadn't destroyed the transporter equipment, and there was a possibility we'd be able to get it going.

We were now in the outer edges of the atmosphere and it looked like it was going to be a wild ride down. The planet definitely had weather, and we could see huge storms with clouds that extended nearly as high as we were. Whistle made every effort to fly around these obstacles, but as we descended, he finally ran out of options and had to fly through the edges of one. We were gliding without power, so he couldn't fly around it.

It was every bit as bad as it looked. We were banged around, tossed, lifted up thousands of feet in a few seconds, and then dropped even further the next minute. There came a point where the shuttle was knocked completely upside down, causing a tearing noise from outside. It was so loud that it could be heard over the roar of the storm winds. We'd lost one of our stabilizers, and the craft became even harder to control from that point.

Everything comes to an end, though, and this was no exception. Thanks to the skill of our furry pilot, we glided in a limping sort of way out of the other side of the clouds into a bright, sunlit area with clear skies.

Whistle took a deep breath and turned to me, “We a long way from where we want to be. De Pug landing station is way over the horizon and we too low to get there.”

“How close can you get us?” I asked.

“Depends. If no more storms, I maybe find up-blowing winds and we glide closer or not. I don't know.”

He turned on a Doppler scanner that would help him locate updrafts and headed for a low line of hills in the distance. We coasted lower and lower.

By now, the surface was beginning to be visible and it didn't enhance my confidence. It was a combination of veldt and heavy jungle. The jungles were clustered around slow-moving, wide rivers meandering across the terrain. Every so often, the rivers would spread out and create a swamp-like lake. As we got lower, we could see clouds of large, flying creatures skimming over the swamps.

We'd descended to the point where Whistle was picking out the final details of where he hoped to land us. We were moving across a flat veldt a few miles from a river, and he was aiming for a gap in the sparse trees that covered the landscape.

The last few seconds seemed to last forever, but we finally struck, and it was rough. We hit, bounced, skidded sideways, hit a tree trunk with one of the lifting surfaces, which ripped off, and then finally came to rest heeled over on our left side. Everything was quiet for a moment, except for the ticking of overheated metal that was beginning to cool.

We were down on the planet that I'd set out to visit, but it looked like we weren't getting off anytime soon. If Frazzle didn't come and get us, we had an estimated hundred miles or so to walk to the Pugs' original landing site. When we got there, we'd have to try and get the transporter going or call Frazzle for a pick up. Right now, it didn't seem too hopeful for us. The power was mostly off in the shuttle with only some sparks that came at random intervals from the control panel. The emergency lighting was still on, though, so we could see enough to get around.

I looked at Whistle. His fur was mussed, and he'd sustained a gash across his forehead that was leaking a pale but still reddish-colored blood down over his left cheek. He tried to give me a cheerful look, but it failed. Instead, he looked like a sad puppy dog with mournful eyes.

The others were watching me in shock. “Are you guys all OK?” My question was designed to get them moving. I could see that they were unhurt, and the cabin hadn't been breached despite the crash landing.

Erin was the first to get a grip on herself, “Yes, I'm OK, but are we trapped here?” She looked understandably worried.

It was a good question, and it made me realize that my mind had fixed itself on the trauma of the crash. I wasn't thinking clearly myself as yet. I grabbed the communicator and tried to raise Frazzle.

It didn't work. Whistle tried it, then made some adjustments, but couldn't get anything but static. “De antenna builded into shuttle body and maybe it's breaked,” was all he could come up with.

In response, I made a mental effort to shake off the shock of the bad landing and the even worse situation we were now in. I reached out and patted Whistle's right shoulder, “We need to get that cut closed up. You're bleeding all over your fur.”

He put his left hand on mine and seemed to sort of shake himself. The next minute, he was more cheerful. “We gots to get de door opened. De electrics make smoke that's bad for us. Need fresh air pretty soon.”

Belatedly, I realized that he was right. There was a thin haze of acrid smoke coming from behind the control panel displays. I made my way over to the hatch, but the automatic opening mechanism wasn't working. The power to it was off or had failed. The mechanical unlocking lever still worked, though, and I slid it to the Open position. There was a little click, and the hatch opened slightly, letting the pressure inside equalize.

Fortunately, the external pressure was about the same as what we had been maintaining inside the shuttle and we were spared the problem of decompressing, at least. I suddenly realized that the shuttle's gravity generator was off. It was usually set to maintain about three-quarters of Earth normal. What with the crash, I hadn't noticed that I was feeling a little heavier, but I had just realized that I was standing on a deck that sloped downwards and that wasn't right. When working, the gravity generator always kept the deck level under our feet, no matter the orientation of the shuttle.

I hopped up and down experimentally. Erin saw this and sarcastically commented, “What? Are you trying to jump for joy or something?”

“No, I was trying to check the planet's gravity.” My answer seemed to embarrass her, and she turned her head away, but not before I could see a flush start across her cheeks.

Whistle interrupted before she could respond, “We gots good gravity here. I checked whiles we come down. It's OK and air is OK too. Dat not be our problem.” He went silent for a moment.

“What is the main problem we have, Whistle?” I asked, figuring that he knew more about the planet than he'd previously said.

He made a kind of indecisive humming noise and then spoke, “Eeee... I don't know much 'bouts de creatures here, but dey supposed to be very fierce and dangerous. We have to walk long ways. Better bring all de guns for protect us.” He shivered and then added, “I scared!”

“Don't be frightened,” I didn't know what we were up against, but being afraid wouldn't help. “We'll bring all of the guns, and we'll protect you carefully.”

“Dat good,” was all he said.

With his reassurance about the air in mind, I pushed on the hatch. Here another problem arose. I couldn't move it more than a few inches. It was either pushing against something outside or had been warped in the crash. I shoved hard and then paused to breathe deeply. As I was starting to shove again, a big arm came across my chest, and Frank pushed me out of the way. He got under the hatch, which was partly above us, and braced his shoulders on the bare metal. He took a deep breath, and then I could see the veins on his forehead pop out as he shoved hard with his legs. The hatch let out a skreeking sound and moved a little bit. Ted came over to help and after a brief discussion about how best to arrange themselves, the two pushed in unison, and the hatch opened wider and wider, then released and flew back against the outside of the ship with a loud bang. Whistle jumped at the noise.

I poked my head out and looked around. It was nearly dark. The hot, blue sun was a small speck, low against the horizon, and the shadows were very long. There was a hot wind blowing and the noise of its passing was loud in the grass-like plants that surrounded our crash site. There were some shadows that looked remarkably like trees in the near distance. Over the wind, I suddenly heard a distant sound that was undoubtedly caused by the local animal life. It was loud and sounded dangerous to me.

I turned back to the others, “It's nearly dark out there. We'd better stay in the shuttle until morning when we can see what we're up against.”

“Maybe we'd better shut the hatch,” Erin pointed out worriedly. “We don't want anything to come in while we're sleeping.”

“That's a good idea. Maybe we can pull it partially shut. We'll still need ventilation to keep the smoke down,” I said.

Frank and Ted managed to pull the hatch mostly shut after some effort. I took a safety harness and tied the hatch locking mechanism to one of the mounts for the control panel to give us some degree of security. Then, we set about finding a way to make ourselves comfortable for the night.

We finally got arranged in the remains of the cabin. Erin was stretched out on some of the seat cushions against the side farthest from the hatch. Frank and Ted had each found a space large enough for them to relax.

I'd gotten Whistle's bleeding stopped, and he was curled into a little ball near the control panel, which had finally stopped smoking. As for me, I was sitting in a seat, keeping watch on the hatch and listening to the wind.

It was gusty outside, and I could hear it through the cracked-open hatch. We hadn't been able to fully close it, since it was warped out of shape from the impact. The crack allowed me to hear the high wind as it howled around the damaged shuttle. The sound rose and fell, creating a sense of menace and adding to the worry I already felt about being stranded on a strange planet with potentially deadly inhabitants.

As I sat there, I gradually sank into a drowsy state wherein I was puzzling over how to get back out into space. My thoughts on that subject became disorganized and faded out. Then I realized that I was standing outside of my cabin back on Earth. Then I was inside somehow but didn't remember passing through the door. I realized, dimly, that I was in an out-of-body state, and as I understood that, I moved rapidly to the side of our bed. Liz was lying on my side of the bed, sleeping. The moon was shining brightly through the window and I could see the tracks of tears dried on her cheeks. I reached out and stroked her hair, and she murmured softly and shifted her position. A faint smile came over her face and I was given to understand that, at some level, she understood that I was with her.

We weren't in direct communication. I'd tried to contact her several times, but there seemed to be some kind of distance attenuation of our connection. I understood that the level of connection was essentially instantaneous, no matter the distance since it was related to quantum entanglement, but it somehow decreased in strength the farther away I was from her. I didn't know why; all I knew was that I wanted with all my heart to hold her physically. I climbed into the bed and lay down in a spooning position with her. As I did, she sighed and snuggled a little closer – I was jerked back to the shuttle instantly in a state of alarm. There was a definite sense of danger in the wind, and as I listened, I could hear a soft scraping as if something was scratching or clawing at the shuttle-craft. The scratching ceased, and there was a low moaning noise that was partially lost in the wind. The next instant, a large claw appeared in the hatch crack. The claw was joined by two others, and they slid back and forth, searching for some purchase on the metal of the port.

Whatever it was outside, it must have been huge since the claws were at least six inches in length. The hatch was almost that thick. The claws hooked on the edge of the hatch and the thing pulled, actually causing the shuttle to shift a little. I heard a gasp and saw Whistle looking at the claws with terror written large on his furry face. A part of my mind noted with passing interest that I'd become so familiar with the Sunnys that I could read their body language and expressions.

The claws pulled again and I decided that was about as much of that as I wanted to put up with. The thing had started to re-position itself so it could pull on the hatch rather than the side of the port and that might give it more access. It seemed to be easily strong enough to break the webbing that we'd used to tie the hatch shut.

I moved carefully closer, drawing my anti-matter pistol from its holster. I didn't want to dissolve the hatch, so I positioned myself directly under the crack. The thing outside obviously saw me. It began to moan loudly and intensified its effort to rip open the hatch. It got its claws hooked in the lip of the hatch door just as I shot through the crack at what I could see of its arm. The anti-matter passed through the crack, striking the creature's appendage. There was an incredibly loud scream as the shot took effect. The creature staggered back, and the hatch was jerked wide open, snapping the webbing as if it were strings. Two large, clawed fingers dropped through the opening, landing on the floor where they flexed independently. They'd been detached by the anti-matter as it burned through the arm of the thing.

There was a huge thrashing sound outside, as if the creature was struggling to reorient itself. Then Frank let out a warning shout in response to the thing shoving its muzzle into the gap. It was large enough that it couldn't fit entirely. The edges of the port kept its mouth from fully opening, but it stuck out a long, purple-colored tongue covered with spike-like teeth and octopus-like suckers. This appendage slopped wetly onto the floor and began to swing wildly back and forth, nearly striking my leg in its search. I fell backward and ended up wedged between a seat and the wall of the shuttle. The tongue slithered close to my foot as I tried to reach the pistol which had been knocked out of my hand. One of the suckers latched onto my boot, and the entire purple mass of tissue moved instantly toward me.

As more suckers clamped onto the toe of my boot, Erin came scrambling over the intervening seats and dove into the crack where my gun had fallen. She came out shooting, and both the majority of the tongue and the end of the thing's snout disappeared. The remains of the snout jerked out of the port, leaking a pale, watery fluid that was evidently the creature's blood. There was a loud scream, followed by receding moans as it stumbled off into the darkness and high wind.

I kicked the end of the still attached tongue off of my foot and stood up, “I owe you big time for that, Erin!”

She smiled and said, “Maybe someday I'll be able to collect on that debt.”

Drat the woman! No matter what happened, she seemed to be able to make it into a sexual innuendo. It wasn't what she said so much as it was the way she said it. I shook it off, thinking that at least she liked me enough to flirt even in the current dire circumstances.

We pulled the hatch shut again and tied the fragments of webbing as best we could. It wasn't very strong, but it might hold against something smaller than the mystery beast had been. The rest of the night went by with no sounds and no intrusions other than the hot wind.

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