New to Other-Terrestrial? Check here! Or if you need to, jump to the beginning of the episode here!

---

Jaya would rather not have been called over to the carrier at a time like this, but the opportunity had been unexpected.

“Some of the !Xomyi people we have brought up from the surface have agreed to meet with you, Captain.  You should come soon – they have a different sense of timing than we do, so they may change their minds if they are kept waiting for too long.”

She had been hoping to meet some of the !Xomyi for weeks, but the situation, especially with those who had already agreed to leave their world, was tense.

The Craton and the carrier kept a good distance between them; with two such large ships, a minimum of fifty kilometers was standard.

The shuttle trip was not long, but she found herself antsy.  Diplomacy was not her strongest skill, and a poorly-known alien mind under great stress would test anyone.

Research-Major Nkosi and Ambassador-General Abashidze were both present to meet her.

“Greetings,” she said.

“This way, please,” the ambassador told her.  “I know you have been wishing for this meeting for some time,” she said, without preamble.  She appeared tired and in a hurry, Jaya thought.  “May I ask why?”

They began walking, wasting no time.

“I would like to meet some of the minds we work to save,” Jaya told her.  “I understand it is difficult.  If the timing is poor . . .”

“This is the best it’s going to be,” Nkosi said.  “We have stabilized the stress levels of this group.  They do have an interest in meeting other humans, though we have tried to be very careful.”

“Of infection?” Jaya asked.

“Of stressors of all kinds,” he replied.  “We are scientists, but our knowledge of !Xomyi psychiatrics is a new field, with no experts.  Modelling of their minds has not been as useful as hoped, due to how differently their recent lifestyle has been in comparison to our own – and from each other.”

“I thought they were all hunter-gatherers,” Jaya said.

“Most of them,” Abashidze answered.  “But there are a few semi-sedentary agriculturalists.  Even when the mode of production is the same, however, the specifics vary hugely.  Those near the coast eat an entirely different diet than those from plains or forests.”

“I see,” Jaya said, wondering just how much they could really differ.  They could synthesize a wide range of foods in a properly set up lab, so why should it be different if they were eating clams or grain?

The carrier was a massive vessel, and they boarded a tram to take them deeper.  After several minutes, Abashidze got a call.

“I must excuse myself,” she said.  “We’re having a problem.  Major, would you please take our guest on?”

“Of course,” Nkosi replied.

“What is occurring?” Jaya inquired.

“There is a fight among two groups of !Xomyi,” Abashidze replied, distractedly, still looking at a feed into her HUD.

“I thought different groups were being kept apart?” Jaya asked.

“That is the plan, though these two groups were related neighbors, so we had hoped . . .”  She blanched.  “Computer, increase travel speed!”

“What’s happened?” Jaya asked.

Abashidze did not reply.  The doors opened, and she stepped out, a scene of madness beyond.  Jaya could see no !Xomyi, but many aides and other Union personnel, running, and a group in armor hurrying towards a set of heavy doors.

Jaya looked to Nkosi, demandingly, as the doors began to close.  She put her hand up, stopping them, and stepped out.

Nkosi hurried up next to her.  “Captain, this is not-“

“What is going on?” she demanded.  When he hesitated, she narrowed her eyes.  “I am a ranking officer on this expedition.  I need to understand.”

“I believe that one !Xomyi has wounded another,” Nkosi finally said, his face flat.  “I . . . I think he is dead.”

Jaya was rocked.  “How did he get a weapon?”

“They carry their stone tools.  Many refuse to part with them for cultural reasons.  Thus . . .”

“They’re still armed,” Jaya said.

“Come,” Nkosi said.  “This is not the group we brought you to meet.  They are still waiting.”

The rest of the trip passed quickly.  The level they came out on was superficially the same as the last, but far calmer.  Stepping out, an aide took them to the airlock door.  Inside, they were cleaned, and finally allowed into the !Xomyi living area.

The air in here was denser, heavier, though her system said it was a compromise between an Earth-standard atmosphere and that of Ko.  It was also warmer – hot, even, though only by ship standards.

The room was huge; it was two floors in height, with sparse, fake trees across the area.  A clear path through them led to a small cluster of hovels, which seemed to be made of long poles, covered with animal skins.  The skins had been worked, being a uniform yellowish color, and on them in red paint were complicated symbols.  No two had the same pattern.

A group of !Xomyi were in the center of the huts, and looked up as they came into the area.

They were distinctive from others in images she had seen.  Their fur had been dyed red in parts, the same shade as on their huts.  White had been mixed in some, and as they stood, she could see that the adults did not have the remnants of wing flaps.  Perhaps ritually removed?

“You are welcome in our home,” one of the !Xomyi said.  His voice was deeper, and Jaya’s system identified him as Speaks With Sky, seemingly the leader of this group.  He had a black top knot of either hair or feathers, clearly from some animal, coming from the top of his head.  In his hands was a baton of some kind.  It was carefully carved, with images of !Xomyi faces – and at the top, a likeness of a human face.  It was heavily stylized, and Jaya found it very interesting to see how they viewed her kind.

“I thank you for your kindness,” Jaya said, offering a polite bow.  Speaks With Sky did not seem to know what to make of the movement, glancing at his fellows before back to her.

“This is a way we show respect,” Nkosi said, emulating Jaya’s bow.

Speaks With Sky seemed to accept that, His eyes closing slightly.  Her system told her this was a form of acceptance.

His eyes were smaller than most !Xomyi, she noted.  Being descended from nocturnal animals, most had large eyes still.

This group must come from a place where there is less shade, and smaller eyes are a minor change in their features to adapt, she thought.

“Sit by our fire,” Speaks With Sky said, gesturing.  “I am told you are friend to us.”

“I am,” Jaya said, sitting.  She looked to the others, but Nkosi leaned over to whisper in her ear.  “He is the speaker for this group.  Do not acknowledge anyone else unless they talk.”

“As a friend, then, I offer you a gift,” Speaks With Sky said.  He offered to her the baton.

Nkomi stiffened next to her, but she reached out automatically.  “I thank you again,” she said, eyes flickering to the researcher.

As she took the baton, Speaks With Sky put his hand on hers.  It was only a touch, but the feel of his rough and wrinkled skin was surprising.  It was warmer than a human hand.

He let go, and she took the baton.

“I ask you now for a gift,” Speaks With Sky said.

Jaya had an uneasy feeling.  “If it is in my power, I will give it.”

“Good,” Speaks With Sky said.  “We have spoken,” he continued, gesturing to the others around him.  “When we came, we were two tens.  Now, we are less than one ten.”

Jaya recoiled slightly, glancing to Nkosi.  “What has happened to your people?” she asked.

“We met your son,” Speaks With Sky said.  Jaya was confused, until a message from Nkosi came up in her HUD, hastily written.

“Gifts require reciprocity,” it said.

“My son?” she asked aloud, pointedly.

Another message; “son is generic; young man”.

“Yes.  He is the one who told us of the coming trouble.”  Speaks With Sky said.  He leaned back, closing his eyes.  “Long it was foretold.  When he came, we felt the prophecy had come to pass.”  His eyes opened.  “But now we understand that we were wrong.  He was not the one who would bring us to safety.  He was the Liar, who misled us.”

Jaya had had a bad feeling as soon as he’d mentioned a prophecy.  Such immaterial things were far too easily stirred to one side or another, to madness as well as mission.

“I am sorry you think so.  However, there is a disaster coming to your world.”

“Since following your son, we have lost over ten of our number.”

“Why did they die?” Jaya asked again.

“Your son-“

“I understand that.  But my . . . son did not slay them.  What was the specific manner of their death?”

The words must have been lost in translation for a time.  These !Xomyi had been given ear implants, like everyone else in the Union, that translated her words into their language.  But that didn’t mean their language had the same sorts of specifics.

After a time, Speaks With Sky spoke.  “They grieved.  They grieved for a lost home, and ceased to eat and drink.  Their spark dwindled, and then they were gone.”

Jaya leaned back.  “What is it you want to ask me for?”

“We wish to return to our old homes,” Speaks With Sky asked.

“If you do, you will all die,” Jaya said.

Nkosi suddenly spoke up.

“She means the disaster will befall you all.”

Speaks With Sky glanced at him, then back to her, but he was stony-faced.

“Your words needed clarification not to be a threat,” he said to Jaya softly.

“You may speak out of turn,” she told him.  She looked to Speaks With Sky.  “He represents his people.  My people are different, and I speak for them.  We are three speakers, not two.”

Speaks With Sky did not seem to like that, and still did not want to look to Nkosi.  “You have my request.”

Nkosi said nothing.  Jaya had a feeling that, despite what she’d said, if he spoke out of turn again it would make things worse.

“It is difficult, your request,” she said slowly.  “I may not have the power to grant it.  But I will try.  You must give me time.”

Speaks With Sky was silent for a long time, then he gave a single, sharp nod.

With that, he turned away.

The audience was clearly ended, and Jaya rose.  She and Nkosi made their way to the airlock.

The room was an incredible reproduction, she thought.  It almost looked natural.  But how could it possibly fool people who knew every plant, every tree, every animal and type of rock, with the combined knowledge and culture of countless lifetimes?

Was it any wonder they were unhappy?

Stepping through the airlock, Nkosi spoke again.  “I apologize, Captain, I did not expect that he would ask-“

“It’s fine,” she said.  “I know you would not have sprung such a thing on me intentionally.  But what has happened to his people?  Why are so many dying?”

“They feel they are caged,” Nkosi said.  “I have told them that this is only temporary, but their conception of time is very immediate.”  He shook his head sadly.  “They are among the worst-afflicted, though the survivors bear it well.”

“How many are dying overall?” Jaya asked, shocked.

“The range of death varies from 18 -55%.  Many simply fall into a deep depression, or shock, and pass away.  It is worse amongst the groups who were brought here under circumstances they feel dishonest.  And worst of all are those who were sedated-“

“Sedated?” Jaya asked sharply.

“Yes.  In a handful of instances, field leaders have made the call to have a group sedated and transported up without their permission.  It is a barbarity, I feel – but even if the majority die, some believe it is still the right thing to do, as then some will survive.  If they stay . . .”

They would all die, Jaya thought.  There would be no more of their people, no descendants, no one with even a memory of their people.  No traces, no artifacts or structures of them would even survive the moon crash.

It would be as if they had never existed.

She could see why some would make such a call.  But the scars from such an act would last for generations, if they would ever go away at all.

“What do we do about this request to return?” she asked.  “I do not want to lie to them, but I do not want to send them back to their deaths, either.”

Nkosi took a deep breath.  “They do have the right to die, if they wish.  But all we can do is stall – and hope they change their mind.”

There was no easy answer.

“I do not know how,” she said.  “But they must have hope.”

“This is not something that has escaped us,” Nkosi has said.  “But we-“

An alarm came up on Jaya’s HUD.

“Response Team One is approaching the target site.”

“Thank you for allowing me to meet with the !Xomyi,” she told Nkosi.  “But I must get back to my ship.”

---

< Ep 12 part 38 | Ep 12 part 40 >

New to Other-Terrestrial? Check here! Or if you need to, jump to the beginning of the episode here!

---

Finding an open area large enough for the RP-1 to land proved the most difficult part after that.

The best spot they could locate was almost ten klicks from the site they were investigating.

They may not be worldsloggers, Pirra thought, but her espatiers weren’t afraid of a little walking.

Mwanajuma took care of Lal’s concussion, declaring him fit for service.

“Good,” Pirra told him.  “You would just have to wait in the ship anyway.”

“The Responsemobile,” he corrected absently.

“We’ve got ten klicks of ground to cover,” she said to the team, ignoring his comment.  “Let’s get what we need and get moving.”

They had two Mobile Utility Carrier Units with them, quadrapedal drones just a little bigger than a person that could carry half a ton of equipment over any terrain a person could traverse.  They were little more than legs and a flat surface to strap things to, and standard kit for worldsloggers, though relatively novel for espatiers.

“Oh man, I love these guys,” Jack Lal said.  “Who’s a good Muckie?” he said, patting the machine’s sensor-head.

“I am!” the MUCU replied happily, letting out a purr.  They were all programmed to have slightly different personalities, which helped troops to bond with them.  Pirra was amused to see that this one was more affectionate than most, and it leaned into Jack Lal lightly as he pretended to scratch it where the ears would have been on a dog.

“Don’t give it a name or you’ll end up keeping it,” Kiseleva said, amused.

“Too late, he’s Muckie,” Jack Lal replied.

“I love you,” Muckie said, leaning against him again.

Pirra sighed.  “Just get them loaded up.”

Their gear for planetside was different from what they used on-ship.  The rifles were longer, and owing to the larger fauna on the surface, each fire team had been issued one larger-bore hunting rifle.

“Suon, Zivai,” she said.  “Take these.”  Second fire team needed one, but didn’t have a designated Marksman.  She glanced at the records, saw that Kessissiin scored highest in it for the group.  “Here,” she added, giving him one.  “Are you familiar with a big-bore?”

Kessissiin studied the rifle.  “I’ve been trained,” he said, a puff of pride in his voice.

“Lal,” Pirra called.  “Are you up to commanding your team?” she asked.

The man hesitated.  It was answer enough.  “Lal, you’re in my team, swap with Najafi.  Bascet, you take charge of team two.”

Jack seemed unhappy about it, but accepted the move without protest.  “It’s not permanent, right?” he asked.

Pirra didn’t answer, just gave him a slight smile.  “Depends how much you annoy me.”

They set out.  The jungle was dense, but drones went ahead of them, flailing razor-thin carbon wires to slice a path.  It was still rough going; the roots of trees, pits of mud, sharp rocks, and sudden pitfalls slowed them considerably.

Pirra had hoped they could cover this ground in less than two hours, but at this rate it might take them twice that.

“Is this like the jungles of Enope?” Kiseleva asked her with a grunt, hopping a log.  “I’ve heard much about them.”

Pirra was already past the log, scanning the horizon.  They had picket drones out, but she still wanted to watch for large lifeforms.

“I don’t know,” she admitted.  “I’ve never been to any of Enope’s jungles.  From the holos and films, it’s similar in the way that all jungles are . . . but I think things on Enope have more color.”

“There aren’t any flowers here, are there?” Kiseleva noticed.  “Perhaps they have not evolved yet.”

“They may never,” Pirra replied.  “Even if the moon wasn’t falling.  Evolution can lead to similar outcomes in similar situations, but we can’t make the mistake of assuming it will always follow the same steps.”

Jack Lal hurdled the log.  “What are we talking about?” he asked.

“I was asking if these jungles were like those of the Commander’s homeworld,” Kiseleva said.

“She’s not going to know anything about the jungles,” he replied with a laugh.  “Her mom’s a big wig, she wasn’t allowed outside.  I dunno if you know much about Dessei politics, but kidnapping is still-“

“Lal!” Pirra snapped.  “Shut up.”

The look on his face showed hurt.  But he didn’t say anything else.

Glancing at Kiseleva, Pirra saw surprise and curiosity – but little else.

“Let’s just keep our eyes on the mission,” Pirra ordered curtly.

“Yes, sir,” Kiseleva replied.  Lal just gave a nod.

“Commander,” Suon’s voice came from ahead.  “We’ve got movement.  Something big is coming towards us, and fast.”

Pirra signalled the alert, the whole squad moving to cover, readying their rifles.

That something appeared faster than she expected, bursting through a dense wall of hanging vines and ivy with a roar that shook the ground.

It was almost four meters tall, with long, powerful back legs, a sweeping tail, and arms big enough that it could have moved on all fours if it had wanted.  Its head was massive, lined with fangs that protruded from its mouth even when it was shut, and its bright, forward-facing eyes fell upon them.

The clearing drones were still flailing, their cutters slicing into the creature’s skin, and it swatted at them with huge, clawed arms, knocking a few out.

But we’re its real target, Pirra knew.  “Open fire!” she called.

A dozen guns barked.  The standard, armor-piercing rounds hit and left little impact on the surface, only little flashes of yellowish blood, but they’d tumble and cause heavier trauma within.  The heavy-caliber hunting rounds hit with far greater force, though, and she could see the creature’s flesh ripple from their energy.

It reared back, in surprise, and the next heavy rounds took it through the head.  It must have had something like a brain in there, as its eyes unfocused and it fell, the ground shaking with the impact.

“Hold position!” Pirra called.  The drones were registering new movement.

Something burst from the left – something even bigger.

It was the same sort of creature, but it had come around their flanks.

It moved with a swiftness that seemed impossible for a thing its size.  Its jaws opened and it dove in, crunching down onto one of the MUCU’s, which had placed itself in a vulnerable spot – by intention.  It was preferrable to lose equipment over an espatier, and even their armor wouldn’t stop something of that magnitude.

The quadrapedal drone and its cargo were crushed to pieces by the raw power of the animal’s bite force, though the metal edges cut into it at the same time, causing it to recoil in pain.

Then a heavy shot took it between the eyes.

The creature tumbled face-first into the ground.  It lay there, unmoving.

Kessissiin had taken the shot, she saw.  He stepped closer to it, and put another round through.

“Just to be sure,” he said.

“Good work,” Pirra breathed.

“I thought it could have a mate,” he said.  “That first one was a male, I believe.  The reports say the females are even more dangerous.”

“RIP, Muckie,” Jack Lal said sadly, looking at the destroyed remains of the carrier drone.  It was beyond recoverable.

“Drones have completed scanning the area,” Kiseleva called.  “There are no other large animals nearby, but there is a structure over there.”

A structure?  “Fire Teams two and three, keep positions.  One, with me.”

The four of them moved in the direction the animals had come from.  Could these have been trained guard animals?  It seemed absurd, but it was always possible.

The structure was not what she had been expecting.  It was not a sapient-built structure, but a nest.

The walls had been laboriously made of mud, perhaps pushed with snout or claw.  They were high, and Pirra had to step onto the side to get enough height to peer in.

And inside, among masses of grass, leaves, and bones, were four huge eggs.

“Oh,” she said, realization dawning.

Lal peered in, and when he stepped back his face looked bleak.  “They were just defending their nest,” he said.

Pirra felt the guilt, but then wondered if their deaths now were quicker and more painless than the ones from the looming death of their world.

How bizarre, she thought.  Life was carrying on here, unaware of what was coming all too soon.

“Let’s go,” she said, forcing herself to put the thought aside.  She didn’t need the distraction.  “We still have ground to cover.”

---

< Ep 12 part 37 | Ep 12 part 39 >

New to Other-Terrestrial? Check here! Or if you need to, jump to the beginning of the episode here!

---

RP-1, also known as the “responsemobile” by some members of the team, was ready for orbital insertion.

“All team members secure, Commander,” Kiseleva called. “Now pack us up-“

“And ship us off to hell!” the rest of the team cheered.

The mood was light, positive, Pirra thought.  Like this was a weekend trip.

She didn’t like it.

Orbital drops were a very real scenario that they trained for and practiced often.

But it was always risky.  The spaceplane would get hit with temperatures of nearly 2000 С, and if anything went wrong, that would ruin anyone’s day.

The main hangar had been emptied of other personnel and the air removed.  The main doors opened, and the automated systems lifted them up and out.

Once they were free, the system plotted their course and they began moving.

Pirra went onto a private channel to Craton command.

“Captain, requesting permission to perform a Hazardous Drop drill.  We rarely get to practice under real drop conditions,” she called.

In the background, Jack Lal was leading the rest of the unit in a spirited, and highly inappropriate espatier song that involved a lost lover, a dead ship, and some kind of alien blob.

“This is Captain Jaya,” the response to Pirra came.  “Permission granted, Commander.  I expect your team to perform admirably.”

Pirra felt a thrill of amusement go through her.

They were just about to hit atmosphere when she turned on the all-unit channel.

“Team, we’re going to be running a Hazardous Drop simulation on our way down.  As of this moment, we are under fire.”

The singing stopped, and the simulation began.  Warnings popped up in their HUDs of missile locks, of incoming hostile drones, and of enemy forces on the surface prepared to do anything to make sure they did not land alive.

“Countermeasures activated!” Kiseleva called.  “Registering equivalent-level weapons technology.”

“We’re boned,” she heard Guoming mutter.

“Do not begin defeatist talk,” Kessissiin said sharply.

“Quiet,” Pirra said.  “Work the problem.  Are countermeasures working?”

“We have become effectively invisible to the missiles,” Kiseleva said.  “Until they launch the next batch.”

“Starting remote hack attempt,” Jack Lal called.  “Attempt one failed.  They have a good firewall, we’re not going to get in it in time.”

“We have dumb-fired weaponry coming up from the ground!”

“Begin evasive maneuvers, they have a good idea of our way down, I want to make it as unpredictable as possible.”

It was a risky move; the ship had high tolerances that could handle these maneuvers, but there were still great forces on a ship that was going through an atmosphere, and this was a denser-than-Earth atmo.  Going too strong on a maneuver could cause the ship to tumble like a leaf in the breeze.  They could get out of such a tumble, but they were not going to take a risky path just for this fictional scenario.  While it did move somewhat to give them the sensation of altering course, it kept it within tolerances.

“Plasma shell forming,” she heard called.  “We’ll be losing sensors soon.”

This was the most dangerous part of a combat drop.  Such a thing was, in reality, near suicide.  An enemy below would just be able to bring too many weapons to bear, they’d have too little ability to maneuver, and even if they did one could not realistically dodge a smart missile.

“Dropping a spare fuel pod,” Kiseleva said.  “We won’t be able to lift off, but it’ll provide some protection.”

All simulated, Pirra knew.  But the feed of the pod dropping, just before the plasma shell around them got too intense to make such a move safe, came up in her visor.  For the sake of seeing how it was projected to perform, she kept the simulation going.

The fuel pod had chambers, which it would dump at intervals.  The fuel ignited instantly as it hit the pod’s own plasma wake from the drop friction, and created a literal wall of fire.

An enemy on the ground would have a hard time seeing through it.  They wouldn’t be able to get a precise lock, and anything else they sent up would be just a shot over a large area.

It was not a bad plan, she thought.  The computer gave it a 42.8% chance of getting them down in one piece.

“Coming out of silence . . . now!” Jack Lal called.  The feeds cleared up, and they saw the ground.  Fire was coming in wildly, but quickly began to home in on them.

“Point-defense cannons firing!” Kiseleva called.  “We’ve got friendlies above us in upper atmo, they’re dropping fire-“

Suddenly everything went red.

“We’re hit,” Pirra said.

“Breaking up,” Kiseleva said with a sigh.

“We’re all dead,” Jack Lal added.  “What was it?”

Pirra checked.  “Lucky shot, actually.  Ah, well, that’s how it goes sometimes.”

Their actual flight was going quite smoothly.  The shaking had mostly stopped, and Pirra twisted in her seat.  “Good job, everyone, that was as good an attempt as I’ve seen.”

“Someday,” Kessissiin said.  “Someone will come up with a good way to land troops under hostile fire.”

“Unlikely, I think,” Kiseleva said.  “The odds are just too stacked.  You can only overwhelm such defenses, try to give too many targets.  The question then is how many you are willing to sacrifice?”

“Look, guys,” Lal said, raising his hands for silence.  “The answer is obvious.  If we just paint big smiley faces on the bottom of the ships-“

The ship lurched, hitting a pocket of turbulence.  Lal drew in his arms, too fast.  He yelled out, as everyone was thrown hard in their seats.

“Jack!” Pirra called.  “Are you okay?”

“I’m fine, I’m fine,” he mumbled.  “I just elbowed myself in the head . . .”

Pirra whistled out a Dessei curse that she knew would not be translated for the others.  “I really shouldn’t have to say this, but everyone keep your limbs down until the ride has come to a complete stop.  Now, don’t guess, anyone – is he okay?”

Kiseleva was studying a readout.  “Med scans suggest a mild concussion.  We can deal with it on the ground.”

Jack made another joke at his expense, and Pirra sighed.  Hopefully, this had been the extent of drama for this mission.

---

< Ep 12 part 36 | Ep 12 part 38 >

New to Other-Terrestrial? Check here! Or if you need to, jump to the beginning of the episode here!

---

It was Zey’s sleep-talking that woke her up.

“Hello,” Apollonia heard, jarring her to consciousness.

The two shared quarters on the outpost, space being at a premium.  And usually Zey’s talking did not bother her.

But tonight, the woman seemed nearly lucid.

“I want some more,” she said.  “It tastes so good . . . mmmm . . .”

Apollonia made a face in the night.  Zey was enjoying some tasty snack, but now she was actually making a munching noise that was strangely disturbing.

She got up and dressed, stepping out into the night.

The wind was as bad as ever, but not the worst it had ever been.  She went to her favorite spot at a railing, peering down, and feeling glad again for the fencing that made falling off an impossibility.

The water below was terrifying.

The waves were so dark as to be nearly invisible, only the white caps could be seen.

There were no porpishes playing down below, but they were about; she could hear them breaching and making an oddly mournful call.

Strange creatures lit up in the water, showing bizarre shapes that seemed truly alien.  Sometimes she thought they were squid-like, but the next moment they were an entirely new shape.  They seemed drawn to the pylons that held up Outpost Alexa.

The porpishes were hunting them.  She could tell when one was caught, because the glow would suddenly turn into a huge cloud that took time to dissipate.

She heard footsteps approaching, just barely, over the wind.

Turning, she saw it was Alisher.  He looked tired, but smiled pleasantly.

“I was going to wake up Nurse Boziak,” he yelled.  “But since you’re already awake, want to go inland?”

Apollonia only caught about half of what he said, but it was the right half.  “Sure!” she called back.

Ten minutes later, they were in the undersea crawler, preparing to head ashore.  It was just her, Alisher, and Hawa, and the lieutenant quickly explained the situation.

“We’ve got a vital node that’s gone out,” he explained.  “Something big bumped it, we think.”

Apollonia’s heart beat faster.  “Is this something big still around?”

“Maybe.  We’ve got defensive drones around the area, so it’s nothing to worry about.  Protocol says we have to bring a medical tech with us on a night mission, since there’s more hazard of injuries like falls.  But don’t worry, we’re going to be in a well-lit area, so you probably won’t have to do anything.”

“I’m not stepping one foot out of the defense ring,” Hawa promised.  “It’s well-lit and safe.”

“So what do I do?” Apollonia asked.

“Just stand there and look cool,” Alisher replied.

The crawler came ashore and they transferred to the hovercraft.

It was the pre-dawn time, she saw as they lifted, with the edge of the sky just turning a lighter blue.

“How far are we going?” she asked.

Hawa glanced at her.  “I forget you don’t have a HUD sometimes,” she said.

In her still-sleepy state, Apollonia found herself annoyed.  “I make do.  I just pester people,” she said.

“About a hundred and fifty klicks.  We might be there for a few hours, though.  Don’t worry, I brought snacks.”

He actually had; the chips tasted funny to her, and when she looked at the package she saw they were green tea and onion flavor.

Who the hell ate those?  She’d never even seen them for sale in the fancy marts on Hell Rock.

Nevertheless, they were chips, so there was only so bad they could be, and she ate up her bag.

The trip felt longer than before, perhaps just because she was tired.  She was starting to doze off by the time they arrived.

“Apple, you can stay in the car if you want,” Alisher told her.

Fat chance of that, she thought.

But she fell asleep almost immediately after they landed.

She awoke with a start.  Sunlight was beaming into her face, and as she remembered where she was, she felt terror at the idea that she might miss a chance to see a dinosaur . . . -ish thing.

It might even be her last chance, she thought, heart pounding.  She clambered awkwardly out of the vehicle.

She didn’t see Alisher or Hawa, but her tablet told her they were on the other side of . . .

Her eyes were drawn to the massive carcass.  In life, it had been a super-giant, one of the six-legged, huge herbivores that wandered these jungles.  Now, bones jutted out of ripped flesh, and half of its side had been torn out.  The entrails would be on the other side from her, but she could smell their stench already.  It was so much worse than she had expected, and the flies!

There were carrion creatures all over it.  Nothing larger than her hand, and she wondered where the bigger ones might be, but then remembered the security drones.  They must be driving off a lot of things.

Checking her system, she saw that they were indeed working overtime.  In six spots, animals from about the size of a cat to bigger than a human were being kept back.

Looking around, she saw no such creatures.  But the cause of the damage to this station was apparent.

The ground had been churned up, turned to mud.  There were footprints all over.

Some were the big, strange prints of this thing.  It must be of the same species as the one she had caught a glimpse of on her first trip out.

Others were from something with equally-huge, splay-toed feet.  Like a dinosaur, one of the big predatory ones.

This thing had been hunted, had been killed, and then the killer had eaten its fill.  In the struggle, their tiny little station of equipment had been damaged.

She walked around the carcass, waving away flies as big as her finger, and tried to find its head.

It had a long neck, like a sauropod, but the head was different – like a star-nosed mole, with scads of tentacles that were already swelling under the hot sun.

Its mouth was open, and the stench coming out of it was even more rancid than she could have imagined.  One of its eyes had popped, the other a gross milky-white, and she quickly walked away.

As she rounded the head, she saw piles of horribly yellow entrails spilling out far beyond.  They looked like any earth animal’s, at first glance, except for the fact that they were yellow – and so was all the blood.  In many spots it had dried to a sickly brown color, almost green.

The stench again prompted her back.  But why was she trying to get past it, anyway?  Alisher hadn’t called her.

She was free to do as she liked.

She looked out.  There was one direction the scavengers weren’t coming from.  She could go to the edge of the security zone and peer out.  Maybe she’d see something.

The jungle edge was clear, the plants straining to grow past the cuts into the empty terrain, but held back by regular sweeps of drones.

Stopping at the edge of the cut zone, she picked a path and went through.

The jungle was immediately dense, the humidity raised significantly, and she felt mushroomy bits and leaves rub against her clothes as she pressed forward.

Wow, this was a dumb idea, she thought.  But she kept going.

The ground seemed to be sloping down, and when she looked back, it seemed that her entrance had been much higher up than she expected.

She’d just go a little deeper, she thought, though a sliver of fear was starting to creep into her stomach.

She took another step – and found no ground.

Letting out a yelp, she fell, tumbling awkwardly, just avoiding landing on her head, hitting her shoulder instead.

Tumbling, she felt a sharp pain in her ankle as she tried to catch herself.  She kept falling, her leg hitting repeatedly, the pain spiking to blinding levels every time her foot hit.  Thorns ripped at her, catching on but not tearing her uniform.

Then she came to a stop.  The ground was flat, mushy even.  When she put a hand into it to push herself up, it sunk in.

Please be mud, she thought.

Something was on her face, and she reached up despite the awkward angle and grabbed at it.  It felt insubstantial, strand-like, and a handful of it felt like holding a marshmallow, but with something hard inside.

When she opened her eyes, she saw that it was webbing, and that she was holding some kind of creature.

It snapped sharp jaws and thrashed in her grip.

She flung her hand out, trying to get rid of it, but the sticky strands of silk stuck it to her hand.

It was going to get those fangs into her!  She thrashed her arm, until finally the thing flew off with a thunk onto the muddy ground.

It scrambled away noisily, and she sat a moment, panting.

Where the hell was she?

She was in a dip, a meter or so below the level of the rest of the jungle.  A dense copse of trees stood off alone, slightly ahead of her, while the opened area extended a few meters to her right, collapsed in, then spread out again, out of sight behind the copse.  Off directly to her left was a swampy area, part of what she was in.

Pulling her hand out of the muck, she saw that there were little creatures writhing in the mud that was stuck to her.  She shook her hand to get them off.

She must be in that mud.  Standing up, she stumbled out of it, towards a drier patch.  Light from above filtered through, leaving a strangely bare spot of yellowish soil.  She moved towards that, each step sending sharp pains through her ankle.  She thought she felt something hot running down her skin, but her suit and ankle seal at the top of her boot was still intact.  Without breaking it, exposing her skin to the many creatures and germs out here, she couldn’t check it.

Fumbling on her belt, she found her tablet, still there.  She’d felt herself land on it several times as she fell, and she feared to see how much she’d busted it up.

The screen had to be cracked at least, and she’d be lucky if it worked at all.

Wiping mud off the screen, it lit up, and turned to her normal desktop view.  It was working!

There was a red alert on the screen, telling her that she’d passed the security perimeter, and to stay still, waiting for help.

“Apollonia?” she heard in her ear, Alisher’s voice.

“Yeah, I’m here,” she said.

“Apollonia, are you there?” the call came again.

“Yeah, I’m here!” she called louder.

Part of her sensed the movement off to her left, but she didn’t register it consciously.

“Apollonia, if you can hear me, stay where you are, we’re coming,” Alisher said.

“I said I can hear you!” she yelled.  Then she saw that there was mud over the mic on her tablet.

She started to wipe it, but then movement caught her attention.  It was still not conscious, but she turned to look, the scale of movement triggering something in her.  It was big, far too big.

Huge.

The creature was huge.

As it raised its head, it towered twice her height.  And its body was still laying on the ground.

It had a long muzzle, and through lipless jaws she saw the teeth, as long as her hand, protruding.

Two eyes, focused straight forward, were fixed upon her, watched with a cold curiosity.

It was not a Tyrannosaurus Rex.  But it looked enough like one.

It considered her, a mere three meters away.

This had killed the creature above, she thought.  Then it had come down here to rest.  She had awoken it, stumbling through the jungle like a buffoon, yelling while right next to it.

“Help,” she said, her voice barely audible.

Its jaws were longer than her whole body, she realized.  The skin on them was mottled, a disgusting yellow, and she realized it was dried blood.

It started to rise.  She stumbled back, and its interest visibly increased.  When it was on its feet, it took a step forward, into the light.

The stench came with it.  It was so powerful it made her gag.  Hordes of flies, disturbed by the movement, took off from it.  In the light, she could see how disgusting it was; vermin crawled across its skin, burrowing into dirty crevices.  Snot ran from its nostrils, and large flaps of skin dangled from its throat.

It was wrinkly, she thought.  Thick folds of extra skin around its neck reminded her of a turkey, but any amusement at that thought could not last, in the face of it taking another step forward.

She felt the ground rumble.  It was not from its step; that had been shockingly almost silent.  It was making a sound, but so deep that she could not hear it.  She could only feel it in the ground itself.

She was about to die, she realized, her legs turning to jelly.  Primal fear of the predator, developed across the endless span of evolution, was thrown to a level she could not imagine at the sight of something so much larger than any predator humanity had ever encountered.  She felt she had no control of herself, and time moved in simple flashes, without thought.

The creature’s head snapped up, as a group of things flew in.  They were small specks the size of her hand, but they circled the beast’s head.  It snapped at one, the movement impossibly fast – but the flying thing avoided it easily.

They were drones, she realized.

The beast took a step back, and one of the drones crackled, a bright light jumping from it to the animal.  It let out a sharp sound and backed up more.

“Apollonia,” a new voice said.  It was Cenz.  “Do not worry, I am here.  Try not to move, movement will only draw its attention away from the drones.”

The massive thing she could only think of as a dinosaur backed up more, into the jungle.

“It is retreating,” she heard Cenz say.  “Apollonia has only a minor injury to her ankle.  However, her audio pick-ups are not working.”

“Oh thank you, Commander!” Alisher said.

Apollonia automatically tried to say again that she was okay, but even if her recorder had been working, she could not make herself make a sound.

She was on the ground again, she realized.  She did not remember falling, but she had.

And she’d peed her suit.

The suit had cleaned it up, but she knew she had done it all the same.

The line clicked as something changed.

“Apollonia,” Cenz now said.  The channel had switched to private.  “I do not know what you were thinking, walking into the jungle on your own like this, but it was an extremely foolish move.  This large predator could have killed you, very easily.  It is a wild animal, and I suspect the only reason it did not kill you is that it recently ate.  It was too tired to even play with you – which I assure you would have been just as lethal as if it had wanted to eat you.”

He paused.  “I know that you are young, and that you have had a difficult childhood, Apollonia.  But this was beyond irresponsible.  There are consequences to actions, and regardless of how great our technology is, it does not mean that we are immune from harm – or nature.”

Apollonia tried to reply, to say that she understood.  But she still could not talk.

A sound from above came as the hovercraft approached.  It lowered quickly down through the tree line, and when it landed, Alisher came out.

“Apple!  Are you all right?” he asked.

She still could not talk.  She only nodded.

---

< Ep 12 part 34 | Ep 12 part 36 >

New to Other-Terrestrial? Check here! Or if you need to, jump to the beginning of the episode here!

---

Jaya had often thought about how she would run her own ship as Captain.

The only real issue she had found, now being the acting Captain of the Craton, was that Ian Brooks had already run a good ship.

There were few changes she could make.  She did implement a few alterations to schedules and operations, making a mark so to speak.  They were not huge, and despite some initial discomfort from a handful of officers, it had gone smoothly.

Their discomfort had been good, in a way.  The hard work was being done on the surface, and it would be weeks more yet before the Craton was actively called upon to be taking in teams and groups of !Xomyi refugees.  The ship was acting only in a support role, and that could breed complacency.

Shaking things up had been a way to keep everyone alert and active.

Drills were another, and right now she watched in interest – and no small enjoyment – as the bridge crew ran through one.

In this scenario, she was out of action.  How didn’t matter, nor did it matter if she was dead or alive; all that mattered was that junior officers were in control of the ship.

The idea was that the moon had begun breaking up sooner than expected, and the crew were scrambling to keep the ship both safe and to evacuate as many teams from the surface as possible.

“We need to move the ship closer so we can pick up those shuttles that have breached atmo,” Navigation called.

“No,” Operations disagreed.  “We’re already too close to significant chunks of the moon that threaten the ship – we don’t have the ability to deflect objects that size.”

Comms chimed in.  “We have two more teams launching from the surface, but they’re experiencing heavy bombardment of small debris, I don’t think-” he suddenly went silent.

“We lost them,” he said, his voice heavy.

Response stepped up.  Its commander was, in this scenario, Lt. Commander Pirra.  “Our duty is to our mission.  Navigation, have you plotted us the safest path you can?”

“Aye!”

“Then take us down.  Ops, get the weapons going, try to give at least a missile bump to anything big that threatens us, and use the point-defense guns for smaller objects.  Orient the frontal cone to catch anything they miss.  Tell all the shuttles our path and get them to move to meet us.”

“But the pieces we can’t deflect-” Ops began.

“Are we going to be hit by them, Nav?” Pirra asked.

“I don’t think so.  The odds are small – this is our best shot.”

“Get us moving.  Ops, get to your task.”

The Operations officer looked to Jaya, mouth agape.

“Don’t look to me,” Jaya said.  “I am dead.”

Pirra was not a bridge officer, but in this scenario, there was little for Response Team One to do except be on the ship.  Though they should have been down running their own companion scenario about fighting fires on the ship, Pirra had delegated that role.

“The bridge needs a Response officer,” she had said when she had arrived.

Jaya had found herself quite amused by this call.

“I’ll allow it,” she had said.

“We’re moving in,” Navigation now called.  “We’ve got large pieces of the moon – Dark, they’re bigger than us – just forty clicks at heading . . .”  She read off the numbers.

“That is too close,” Ops said.  “We can’t even hope to budge a piece that big. If it breaks up further-“

“If,” Pirra said.  “Keep our heading, monitor the piece.  Warm up the zerodrives – if need be maybe we can nudge any pieces with a partial field.”

Nav nodded nervously.

It was, Jaya thought, the kind of crazy thing Brooks would try.  Zerodrives were not toys, and using them in the way he often did was widely considered foolhardy.

“We have shuttles approaching,” Flight called.  “Their path is rocky, though.”

“Get what point-defense guns we can on it,” Pirra called to Ops.

“The moon piece is starting to break up!” Navigation called.  “It’s calving – a piece is on a course that will hit us in thirty seconds!”

“Get that drive going, alter its trajectory!” Pirra called.

“It’s too big!”

“Nudge it, buy us a few more seconds.  Get us a course that will avoid it if you can.”

“There’s no safe path we can register-“

“Dive into the planetary well,” Pirra ordered, looking at the charts, herself.

“We can’t escape a planetary gravity well like that easily-“

“We’ll make a jump at the last minute – we’ve got the drive up, yes?”

Science called out.  “We cannot make a jump in a planetary atmosphere, the repercussions-“

“Will not be worse than what’s already happening,” Pirra replied.

“We’ve got three shuttles docked,” Flight called.  “Those are the only ones in range . . .”

“Give them our best calculations for a safe path out, tell them to burn until they’re clear and we’ll get them as soon as we can,” Pirra called.  “Prepare for zerojump in-“

The emergency lights on the bridge suddenly went back to normal.

Everyone froze in surprise, as the emergency suddenly became the normal.

“Very good work,” Jaya said.  “Lt. Commander Pirra, your bravery in action would have netted you a medal, or perhaps killed everyone.”

Pirra looked suddenly somewhat chagrined.  “I stand by my actions, Captain.”

Jaya nodded sharply.  “Good, I am glad you are not second-guessing yourself.”

“May I ask, Captain – why did you stop the scenario before we finished?”

“We have a signal coming in, Captain,” the comms officer suddenly called.  “It’s Research-Major Nkosi.”

“That is why,” Jaya said.  “Bring the call through.”

Nkosi appeared.

“Hello, Captain, I am sorry if I am interrupting your war game.”

“It is only a practice for a rescue operation,” she said, feeling for a moment like he’d been making some kind of soft rebuke.

“My mistake,” he replied, and she genuinely could not tell if there was more to it.  “I wanted to speak to you about your latest scans you sent over.”

Jaya checked the logs; they had been sent over just ten minutes ago.  “Is there some problem with our work, Research-Major?”

“No, not at all.  But there was something unexpected.  In this location . . .”  A map appeared, highlighting a part in the middle of the main continent.  “Your scans observed the remains of a camp.”  His face went troubled.  “I can tell you with certainty, Captain, that it is not one of ours.  We have never had people within a hundred kilometers of this area, let alone a field camp.”

Jaya took a moment to process that.  Bringing up their detailed images, she could make out the camp.  All that could be seen were the tops of tents, some of them quite large.

They did not match any Union-issued tents, however.  They were not just camouflaged visually, but contained electronic baffles that made them hard to pick up.  The Craton‘s powerful scanners had seen through that, but . . .  even if Nkosi was mistaken, his people wouldn’t have had any reason to use such things.

“Thank you for bringing this to my attention,” she told him.

“I find it troubling, Captain,” Nkosi said.  “My guess is that it has been occupied for some time, longer than we have even been here.  Who else has come to this world, and why?  Why are they hiding?”

“There is only one way we will find out,” Jaya said, looking to Pirra.

The Lt. Commander saluted her.  “I will prepare Response Team One for orbital insertion.”

---

< Ep 12 part 33 | Ep 12 part 35 >

New to Other-Terrestrial? Check here! Or if you need to, jump to the beginning of the episode here!

---

Hard Biter had been gone days now, and life for the !A!amo carried on.

Brooks found himself impressed by the ways that these people accepted death in their midst.  They mourned, and then they continued.

He saw in their psyche no sign of the stress this life must bring to them; their bodies bore the scars, the aging from endless struggle and toil.  But they remained themselves in mind, without blemish.

Post-traumatic stress was likely too strong a negative to exist in a people who lived day-to-day, he thought.  It made him wonder what illnesses civilization had created, even as it had cured the more obvious ones caused from without.

Without technology, sickness for the !A!amo was a constant threat.  They understood cleanliness to an extent, cleaning themselves and their children regularly.

But the deeper causes were both unknown to them and they were nearly helpless once a sickness took hold.

A week after the funeral, two of the children suffered from fevers that they could not cure.

Cool River collected herbs, making a paste which she spread on their heads and wings.

“It will draw out the fire,” she explained.  “But whether they live or die is up to the spirits.”

She refused to look at Brooks as she said it, but he did wonder if it was a request.  So far, despite the gift of his scanner that he frequently saw them using to search for tubers – and they had figured out how to tell it to search for other edibles – they had asked for nothing from him.

“These fires of the mind are common this time of season,” Knows the World told him.  “It claims our youngest often.  This year, we are lucky it is only two.”

Brooks called upon Y to intervene.

“Of course, Captain,” Y told him.  “If you wish, I can summon a team to come and give the !A!amo full physicals as well.”

“I don’t think so,” Brooks told him.  “I want you to visit the children when no one else is around.  Give them what they need, and they will simply believe it is good fortune.”

Y hesitated.  “Captain, this is an opportunity to show to the !A!amo that with our medicine we can-“

“I understand what it is,” Brooks said.  “Do it as I instructed.”

Y complied.  The sickened children, Causes Trouble and Sweet Child, recovered.

Thanks was given to the spirits, and to the strength of the children themselves.  Their parents doted upon them as they recovered.

But he had a feeling they attributed it to him.

The mystique was a powerful thing, he noticed.  He seemed to be avoided for some days after.  Sometimes, small groups of the !A!amo would be talking to each other in hushed voices, and grow quiet when he was close.

Their ears were sensitive, and even his equipment could not pick up these conversations.

They did not seem to fear him, or to be angry, but the lack of communication made it difficult to progress his trust with them.

There was nothing to do but wait.

---

< Ep 12 part 32 | Ep 12 part 34 >

New to Other-Terrestrial? Check here! Or if you need to, jump to the beginning of the episode here!

---

The waves were high today, Apollonia thought, watching them beat against the pilings that made up the base of the Outpost Alexa.

The waves were high every day, she reminded herself ruefully.  Every single day on this planet looked like footage from some monstrous storm on Earth.

When it got really bad, when the winds racing a hundred or more knots came in, the waves towered like tsunamis.  Never quite reaching the outpost, but sometimes there was a warning to use only indoor corridors.

She imagined the outpost swayed at times, under those winds and waves, but Cenz himself had assured her;

“This rig and its pylons are constructed from some of the strongest carbon materials.  They can be used to make space elevators or towers that breach the atmosphere.  This rig will be the last thing to fall on this world, even after the mountains have crumbled.”

Among the pylons below, the porpishes were playing, jumping from one wave to another.  Sometimes they even looked up at her, seeming to beg for attention.

“Eh, I got Everett down to sleep,” Zey said, coming up next to her.  “What’re you looking at?  Oh, those things.  They’re creepy as hell, if you ask me.”

“The porpishes?”

“Is that what they’re called?”

“It’s what I call them,” Apollonia replied with a smile.

“Yeah, well, they need to mind their own business,” Zey said, glancing down at them critically.  They seemed even more excited now that two humans were looking down on them.

“They just want to play,” Apollonia said.  “I think we’re still new and neat to them.”

“Yeah, play with our dead bodies,” Zey replied.  “One researcher tried swimming with them early on, I heard.  They dragged him down and when they figured out he was using a rebreather they pulled it off him and he drowned.  Then they kept playing with the corpse.”

“That’s just a rumor,” Apollonia said.  Though, it was probably true.  “You said you got Everett to calm down?”

“Yeah.  Whatever that drug those !Xomyi gave him, it finally seems to be wearing off.  Man thought he was Tarzan.”

Apollonia laughed even though it wasn’t funny.  The young diplomat had been invited by the !Xomyi he’d been with to try some mystic drug in a ceremony.  It apparently hit humans far harder than !Xomyi.  After he’d taken it, he’d acted a complete fool, even eating a huge amount of their food.

It had overwhelmed the processor in his stomach, and since they’d brought him in he’d been vomiting and pooping almost constantly.  All the while, though, he was still trying to climb the walls.

It wasn’t the first time they’d seen it.  An advisory bulletin had been sent out, but there was a lot of difficulty; rejecting some sacred rite you were asked to partake in could ruin the trust that had been built.

Well, at least it had given her experience, Apollonia thought.  She’d never thought she’d have to clean a grown person’s butt, but now she felt like an old hand at it.

The first time had been the worst.  She’d only had to watch as Zey had worked.

“Don’t we have a drone that can do this?” she’d muttered.

“On the ship we have plenty.  But down here, we only have one soft arm.”

“Soft arm?”

Later, Zey had shown her the robot arm made of a soft, warm polymer that felt like human flesh.  “You don’t want something hard-edged going in sensitive places,” the nurse had told her.

Which made sense.  It made less sense not to be using it.

“You still need to learn,” Zey had said with a shrug.

“Sure, but then we can use the gummy arm, right?”

“You know what the gummy arm can’t do?” Zey asked.  “It can’t be a person.  Replacing the human element of health care – of most fields – is just something we don’t do.”

“Surely we could make robots that look and sound like us, though,” Apollonia had pointed out.

“Don’t get me started on that can of worms,” Zey had said.  “Now show me what you’ve learned.”

And so Apollonia had cleaned butts.

Now she was well experienced at it, and it hardly even seemed a big deal.

A long way to come, she thought.

“He’s probably going to have one hell of a hangover tomorrow,” she said out loud.

“Tomorrow he’s gonna wish he wasn’t alive,” Zey replied, sighing.  “Short of scrubbing all his blood and organs, we’ve done all we can for him.”

“Wow, we can do that?”

“Yeah.  Not assistant-grade stuff, but yeah,” Zey said.  “We have a portable internal scrubber here, but it’s only for serious cases.”

“Who would have thought that the !Xomyi have such primo shit?” Apollonia thought aloud.

“Pfft,” Zey replied, waving the idea away.

Apollonia let her gaze go to the mainland.

Zey was quiet, messing with her system, but after a while she leaned up next to Apple.

“You look like a love-sick puppy, looking out there,” she said.  “Is it Alisher?”

“Huh?” Apollonia asked, caught off-guard.  “Oh, no.  He’s great and all, I’m just . . . thinking about the mainland.  All those dinosaurs.”

“The not-dinosaurs that want to rip your face off and eat it,” Zey said.  “Not the handsome, dashing officer who clearly really likes you?”

“That’s right,” Apollonia replied, almost defensively.  Sure, Alisher was great, but dinosaurs . . . well, these ones were going to be gone soon!

“You two still having dinner on the regular?”

“Yeah,” Apollonia said.  “Last night.  I had some noodles . . .”

“Dark, you’re dating him and you’re thinking about the noodles?”

Apollonia watched Zey for a moment, feeling a gulf between them.  Food still rated as just one of the most important things to her mind.

Alisher was great, she thought.  So great that she kept telling herself he was great.

And he truly was.  He was kind, respectful, talented, funny . . .

Her thoughts drifted elsewhere.

“So imagine,” she said suddenly, forcing the topic to a subject she actually wanted.  “If I was out there.”

“Okay,” Zey replied warily.

“And I found a little adorable dinosaur.  Maybe it’s a baby.  Like, not a baby of something that’ll get huge.  And not like helpless.  But, you know, adorable.”

Zey narrowed her eyes.

“And it sees me, and it’s like ‘you’re my new mom’.  I’d have no choice but to take it in!  I mean, the whole world is doomed anyway, so what does it matter?  It’d be an act of mercy.”

Zey crossed her arms, one eyebrow going up.

“I’d name him Little Zey,” Apollonia said on a whim, loving Zey’s look of disbelief.  “And he’d be much smarter than we expected.  Like, nearly as smart as a person.  And my little buddy.”

Zey clicked her tongue, let out a long-suffering sigh, and turned away.  “This is what happens when I leave you alone.”

“He’d be a great sidekick!” Apollonia added.

A ding came on both of their systems.  It was an automated alert, telling them that Everett was up again.  And stuff was coming out of him.

“It’s my turn,” Apollonia said with a sigh, pushing off the railing.  “I’ll take care of it.”

---

< Ep 12 part 31 | Ep 12 part 33 >

New to Other-Terrestrial? Check here! Or if you need to, jump to the beginning of the episode here!

---

The !Xomyi were letting out long, lamenting cries.  Two of them had fallen to their knees, beating the Earth in some form of ritualized anger.

But the others were holding back another.

“I will save him!” Fast of Wing was screaming.  “I will save him!”

“He is gone!” Old Hunter told him.  “The keko!un wants you to follow so that it may take you as well.”

“I will kill it!” Fast of Wing shrieked.  “I will kill the beast that took my father!”

“There is nothing to be done,” Old Hunter said with finality.  “If you wish your line to die – then go.  Your father is with the Sky Child.  He will not thank you when you go to him too soon.”

Fast of Wing let out a sound of anger and turned away.

“That was a keko!un?” Brooks asked.

Diver turned to him, but then looked back warily.  “It was.  It has taken one of the best among us.  It wounds us deeply.”

Tracker did not take his eyes away from the jungle.  “It is not alone,” he declared.  “There are others.  They wait.  For us to make a mistake, to take our eyes away.  We cannot stay.”

Brooks looked out.  He saw nothing, and his drones saw nothing.  But that animal was small enough to get close to them before being detected.  If he pushed out their radius, they might slip through entirely unseen.

He didn’t think he had enough with him.

Looking down at his hand, he still held the pistol, though it shook in his grip.  Slowly, he put it away.

“Y,” he said.  “I need you.”

The drone appeared.  “Yes, Captain?  I can assist you.”

“A predator just took one of my group,” he said.  “Can you recover the body?”

Y must have assimilated all the drone data, as he immediately replied; “The body is severely damaged, and was already being consumed before the animal left sensor range.  Are you certain you wish to do this?  I do not believe the !Xomyi will thank you – they will be disturbed by the damage to the body.”

Brooks wanted to yell yes, of course Y should recover it.  But he had a point.  A mauled corpse would be a horror for his son to see, and if they took it with them, it would give the keko!un a reason to follow them back to their camp.

“We must go,” Old Hunter declared.  “The he!ak’s meat is tainted.”  He turned, walking back towards the base of the hill where Brooks had been left waiting before the hunt.

Brooks understood.  It was not that the meat was truly tainted, but to save their own lives they would have to leave it to the keko!un now.  If they stayed, they risked more members being picked off.  If they left it . . . the keko!un would not follow, as it would have the kill to itself.

“This is an ill-omened day,” Old Hunter added.

Brooks was startled by that, and his eyes went to the moon, which his people had dubbed Omen.

It was still there, as it always was.  The glow around it was ominous.

How soon, he wondered.  How soon until it comes down and kills he!ak, keko!un, and !Xomyi all?

As Old Hunter left, the others slowly moved to follow.  Tracker stayed.  “I will watch,” he said.

When he noticed that Brooks was tarrying, he waved.  “I will be safe.  Go with the others.  Stay close, my friend.”

Brooks nodded, fingering the grip on his pistol.  The whole attack had been so fast that he couldn’t get there soon enough to help.  If it had come for him, he wasn’t sure if he could have even gotten his weapon out in time.  Not without drone warning to be ready.

“Kai,” he messaged.  “Where are you?”

“A few hundred meters out, still.  You all right?”

“Yes,” he told her, his voice grim.  “I want you to head back – and be alert.  There are large predators about.  I don’t want to lose anyone else today.”

---

The keko!un did not follow them on their return.

“They will come eventually,” Old Hunter told him.

That was the extent of conversation on the trip back.  The group was grim, even Tracker did not make jokes or laugh.  Brooks saw little of him, nor Fast of Wing, who he suspected Tracker was keeping an eye on.

By dawn they had arrived back at camp.  Already, the women of the camp knew; Brooks was surprised until he saw that Fast of Wing and Tracker had preceded the main group.

The group of men entered the village in a solemn, formalized way.  Standing apart from the group was Knows the World, who had his head bent, folded under his wings.

Brooks felt he was supposed to be a part of this, he wanted to be.  But he was not sure what role to take.  He simply moved with the men, staying just behind them, and tilting his head down.

The women were letting out a high wailing, throwing handfuls of dirt into the air.  The men moved among them, and Brooks could not tell if this was ritual or simply them wanting to be with their dear ones.

Fast of Wing and Tracker went to Knows the World and formed a circle with him, all of their heads down.

Old Hunter eyed Brooks.  He, too, was standing apart.

“They mourn as family,” he said.

“They were related?” Brooks asked.

“Knows the World was the father to Hard Biter.  Tracker was his younger sibling.  And you know that Fast of Wing was his son.”

Off to the side, three of the women had formed a similar group, keening together.  Old Mother was one of the group, along with Young Mother, wife of Tracker.  The third he only knew from his system identifying her, as High Spirit.

A child joined them, who his system told him was Causes Trouble.  The girl seemed to be in a stunned silence as she held onto Old Mother’s leg.

“There is no body for us to bury,” Old Hunter said.  “I must still make a remembrance of my friend.”  He shook his head.  “It is not right I should admit this to an outsider, No Wings, but I am shamed.”

Brooks found the fact that he confided in him a positive sign, though he hated the situation that had brought it on.  “You have done nothing wrong.”

“I was the eldest on the hunt.  It was my task to protect the others,” Old Hunter said.  “I should have known the keko!un was there.  But I took too much pride in my friend’s prowess.”

“They are clever,” Brooks said.  “And they plan.  You did all you could.  Sometimes you can do everything right and still disaster happens.”

Old Hunter regarded him a moment, then nodded.  He moved away, towards his shelter.

Brooks considered what he should do.  There were many possible ways to honor the dead hunter, a being whose life he had hoped to save.

---

< Ep 12 part 29 | Ep 12 part 31 >