Project U.L.F. (44 page)

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Authors: Stuart Clark

BOOK: Project U.L.F.
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Wyatt stood silent for a moment, feeling the anger welling up inside of him again, this time fuelled and mixed with a new emotion. Suddenly he grabbed Par by his jacket and, ignoring the screams of pain, wrestled him to his feet, slamming him back into the trunk of the tree behind him. He brought his face up close to Par’s, his eyes burning pure hatred. “Has everything you’ve done since then been an attempt to complete your mission?” he hissed. “Is that why you volunteered to climb up into the shuttle? Were you hoping to dislodge it and deny us a way home? Maybe even kill yourself in the process?”

“No!” Par frowned, appalled at the accusation.

“Is that why you went with Byron? To get him on his own? Are you trying to kill us off one by one?”

“Oh, and I suppose you think that this…” he indicated his leg, “…and my rendezvous with a prehistoric parrot was all planned too, right?” Par was pissed off. He’d confessed to his crime, now he was being labeled with others that had no foundation and that he was incapable of.

“I don’t know! I don’t know what or who to believe any more, and why should I?”

“Fuck you, Wyatt! It was you who asked me to go with Byron, remember? It was you who asked me to go into the shuttle!”

“I never asked you to go!” Wyatt shouted.

“No one else would go!” Par replied in same.

The two men stood glowering at each other for a moment, their faces close enough that each could feel the other man’s breath hot on his cheek.

Wyatt released his grip and turned away.

“He was my friend too, you know,” Par said behind him.

“And you repaid that friendship with betrayal.” Wyatt spat. Almost without thinking he rounded on Par again and slammed him back into the tree. “Friend? Friend? What do you know about friendship? I’ll tell you what, why don’t I tell the others your reason for being here? Then let’s see how many friends you have! I’m sure Kit will be very interested to hear what you had planned for him.”

Suddenly there was a fear in Par’s eyes. “You wouldn’t.”

“Maybe. Maybe I’d do just as well to get rid of you myself. Save the others the time and trouble.”

Par’s eyes were still wide and afraid but he was no longer looking at Wyatt, he was looking beyond him.

Slowly, without releasing his grip on Par, Wyatt turned to look over his shoulder. Directly behind him and now only ten feet away was Gon-Thok. At first he almost didn’t recognize it. The alien was hunched over and clearly showing some kind of threat posture. It had curled itself almost into a ball and along its back was a row of seven spikes, each progressively smaller than the one on the vertebra above it. The largest of these was located just below the back of the creature’s neck and now pointed over its head and directly at Wyatt. Now Wyatt understood why the creature’s bulging eyes sat on the side of its head. Not only were they fish like eyes to allow for the refraction of light underwater, they were also bulbous to give the thing three hundred and sixty degree vision. Even though when hunched over it was effectively facing its own stomach, the eyeballs were set far enough to the side of the alien’s head to allow the iris’ to remain firmly locked on Wyatt. It was effectively looking over the back of its head at him.

“Thank God you have at least one friend in this place, and it will never understand what you’ve done.” Wyatt said quietly. He released his grip on Par, who slumped to the ground, and then Wyatt reluctantly moved away, angry at being denied the chance to go overboard. Gon-Thok shifted uneasily, moving so as to keep the spike trained on Wyatt, but also out of the man’s way. “And what about Kate?” he stopped, turning, the words more a plea on her behalf than a question.

Par looked up, a face in a pile of disheveled clothes. He looked wretched, pathetic, like the admission of his crime against the others had broken his will. “I don’t know. I don’t know why she is here. She
shouldn’t
be here. The brief I read made no mention of her at all.”

Disgusted and unsatisfied with the answer, Wyatt headed back toward the shuttle.

“Something went wrong, Wyatt,” Par called after him. “Don’t you see, the mere fact that she is here means something went wrong. Think about it…” he shouted, trying to reach him, “…If Mannheim wanted you buried, do you think he’d have left even the slightest way or means for you to make it back? The craft finder wasn’t left there, it was put there for you to find. Why else would it be in such an obvious location? If you wanted something found, where would you leave it?”

It was a good point and Wyatt slowed, thinking. Par was right. Kate had been the key to the whole thing. It was her outburst after Alex’s death that had made him question the validity of the whole mission, led him to his dreadful discovery. It was while he was looking for the chest protector for her that he had found the craft finder. Everything that had led them to this point seemed centered around Kate. What had she said, that Alan had assigned her to this mission? Maybe Alan had put the craft finder on board for them to find. He would have had to have looked up the mission details before he put Kate on board. But that didn’t make any sense. If Alan had known that it was a bogus mission he would never have allowed Kate to come, indeed, he would have tried to halt the whole thing. No, Alan could not have known, Wyatt concluded, or if he did, then like them, he had discovered the treachery too late and there was precious little he could do about it—except maybe put a craft finder on board.

Par was right, where else would you put something if you wanted it found? Maybe Par was also right about Mannheim, about the whole set-up. If Alan had stumbled across something then maybe he was powerless to do anything about it. Maybe he sensed the inherent danger in exposing the whole sham and, ultimately, Mannheim. Despite their own ever-worsening predicament Wyatt began to feel very afraid for his friend back on the moon-base.

“Despite what you may think, Wyatt, I want to live,” Par said behind him. “Now, more than anything, I want to live through this.”

Wyatt said nothing, nor gave any indication that he heard the comment, just continued on his way back to the shuttle. “You can’t leave me here!” Par shouted after him, but Wyatt just carried on walking.

 

*
  
*
  
*
  
*
  
*

 

Wyatt climbed back into the main cabin of the shuttle to be greeted by the surprised faces of Bobby, Kate and Chris. “Where’s Par?” asked the latter. Wyatt mumbled something and gave a wave of his hand. “You left him out there?” Wyatt’s look was blank. “You did, didn’t you? Jesus! I can’t believe you left him out there! What is wrong with you?”

Wyatt gave the youngster a cold stare to remind him of who he was addressing, but Chris was already past him and heading for the door and did not catch it. He jumped the short distance to the ground and disappeared, still muttering under his breath and shaking his head.

Bobby and Kate continued to stare at him with the same question in their eyes.

“Forget it,” he said. “You don’t want to know.”

 

*
  
*
  
*
  
*
  
*

 

The conversation around the campfire was stifled that night. Wyatt, usually one of the most vocal, was quiet and withdrawn, lost in thought. Par too, said nothing, just glanced occasionally at Wyatt like a scolded child would. Kate remained in the shuttle, talking in whispers with Bobby so as not to disturb the relative silence of the men outside.

Chris wondered what was going on. He desperately wanted to ask—he’d never seen Par behaving like this, but he sensed that now was not the time or the place to be asking questions. Unfortunately, Kit, who said little at the best of times, made the unlikeliest of talking partners, so he remained silent. The only sounds were the occasional crack of the fire and Furball’s complementary chitter of surprise.

Wyatt had been stewing all day, Chris had noted, ever since he and Par had gone for their private exchange. He wondered what they had talked about, Byron’s death, certainly, but Wyatt had seemed to have dealt with that and now, since their talk, he was aloof and introverted again. Even Par, when Chris had helped him back into the shuttle, was reluctant to disclose the details of their conversation. Something was dreadfully wrong, any fool could see that. The tension between Wyatt and Par was so tangible you could almost touch it, and yet neither of them were talking and none of the others dared give voice to the feelings of foreboding they were experiencing.

“What about my watch?” It was Wyatt, and the others looked up in surprise. For a second there was confusion, the others looked at each other wondering who the question had been directed at. It was almost as if he were just thinking out loud. “What about my watch?” he asked again, turning his head towards Par.

The Swede looked at him, mouth agape for a moment and then his jaw seemed to work but no words came out of his mouth.

“I…well I…well, Byron had it. You gave it to him.”

“So you don’t have it?” Wyatt sounded disappointed already, like he already knew the answer to that question.

“Well, er, no. Well, I mean, I didn’t have time to get it from him.”

“Great!” Wyatt said.

“What?” Par was already on the defensive.

“Well, that’s it, then, isn’t it? It’s all over. Without that watch and the coordinates stored in it there’s no way we’ll ever find the DSM now. Looks like you finally got what….” He stopped. Par’s eyes were wide and flicking to the others. He’d nearly told them all why Par was here but it looked like none of them had picked up on it. “Sheesh!” He held his head in his hands.

It seemed to Chris that Wyatt shrank visibly. It was like every last grain of hope and will had left the man and as a result he had deflated on the spot. It was depressing. Like their flag bearer had fallen and now all they could hope to expect was disarray among their ranks. Just the sight of it seemed to sap some of Chris’ energy and he swore in that moment the flames of the fire lost their luster and died just a little.

“There is…perhaps…one way.” Par said quietly.

 
 

 

CHAPTER

16

 

 

 

 

“What? You can talk to the thing?”

It was the first time Wyatt had seen Kit genuinely interested in anything.

“Well…yeah. Kinda,” Par shrugged. “Not talk as such, but we communicate…It understands me.”

“This I gotta see.” A smile of disbelief briefly lit up Kit’s features.

“So you think the alien could get us back to the other ship?” Wyatt asked.

“I’m sure of it. It’s intelligent and it obviously knows its way around this forest.” Par was enthusiastic now, suddenly turned from villain to hero.

“Well there’s no time like the present to find out, is there?” Wyatt looked up and away from the dying fire, scanning the nearby trees for the creature. Nothing. Even when his eyes had adjusted to the dark all he could see was the wall of trunks against the black, glowing different shades of amber as they were lit with splashes of firelight. It wouldn’t be there, he realized. It was amphibious. It would have gone to find water in which to spend the night, water which would keep it warm as the air temperature dropped around it. He turned back to the others. “We need to decide who’s going to go this time. Par obviously can’t go back and we need Chris here to complete the repairs as best he can.” Wyatt said it to kill the youngster’s growing enthusiasm. He could see the kid’s face brightening even as he talked. Best just to nip it in the bud.

“I’ll go,” a voice croaked weakly from inside the shuttle.

Wyatt smiled faintly. “Thanks,” he said, talking loud enough so those inside the ship could hear him, “But you’re in no fit state to make the trip, Bobby. I appreciate the offer and I understand why you did it, but you need your rest.” He paused, thoughtful. It was pointless discussing the issue. In just a minute’s process of elimination Wyatt had already figured out who would be going with him to the Nebula IV.

“Kit.”

The big man looked up.

“Like it or not, you’re coming with me.” For once Wyatt was pleasantly surprised by the man’s reaction. Kit just shrugged, like he’d already drawn the same conclusion himself. “And Kate.”

“Huh?” Kate’s head appeared around the doorway of the shuttle and she looked at him quizzically. She was not alone. Chris and Par both looked at him in surprise too. Kit, Wyatt noted, was looking at Kate. He was sure a flicker of a smile had crossed the man’s lips and his eyes had flashed at the mention of her name.

“You want me to go with you?” she asked.

“You heard me.”

“But that’s crazy!” argued Chris. “You’re taking her and leaving me here?”

“I told you, kid,” Wyatt’s voice was flat and firm. “We need you here. You’re the only one who can repair the ship and you have two injured people to look after. You have a responsibility to them as the medic.”

“But…but…but she’s not even qualified as a trapper,” Chris continued.

“And neither are you!” Wyatt snapped. “Look, I’m sorry,” he said, calming, “But pointless bickering will get us nowhere.”

The truth was that Wyatt would rather have taken Chris with him but Chris was needed here. Not just by Bobby and Par, by all of them. He had to repair the ship or none of them were going back to Earth. So it was the three of them. Kit, Kate and himself. He sighed to himself. It was not an ideal situation. He had to take Kit with him; he was the only other qualified trapper among them who was still fit and able to make the trip, and yet by taking Kit, he felt it necessary to take a third person. The only other fit member of the crew who didn’t already have her hands full was Kate.

He didn’t like to do it. He had seen the hungry eyes that Kit had watched her with and he suspected that the big man harbored intents that weren’t entirely respectable, but while he worried for her safety, he was also concerned for his own. Kit was an unpredictable man at the best of times. The fact that he and Wyatt did not get along made the situation all the more precarious. He was bringing Kate along for his own safety. With her around Kit was less likely to make a move against him. Not only that, she would also provide him with another pair of eyes with which to look for danger, both from Kit and creatures of other kinds.

Is that it?
he asked himself.
Is that the only reason I’ve asked her along?
Inside he knew it wasn’t. He liked her. He enjoyed her company and he wanted her close to him.

 

*
  
*
  
*
  
*
  
*

 

Par was nudged awake at first light. In the gloom of the shuttle’s interior he could see Wyatt crouched over him, insistently nudging his arm.

“We need you. The alien will only come on sight of you.”

Par looked around him, dazed for a second, and then with a groan he lifted himself off his temporary bed and pulled his U.L.F. fatigues on over his shorts and T-shirt. Wyatt, Kate and Kit watched him in silence.

Outside, a fine mist had crept in under cover of darkness, only now being revealed by the first of the suns’ light. The moisture hung like a veil over the forest.

Wyatt and Kit helped Par out of the shuttle, where they joined Kate. They stood then in silence, scanning the trees for any sight of the alien as the forest came alive around them, foreign cries and calls saluting the new day. After a time, the shadowy form of Gon-Thok emerged from the drizzle, its skin shining with wetness, transparent membranes blinking across its bulbous eyes to wipe away the excess moisture. Kit reached for his gun but Wyatt motioned for him to leave it in its holster. They needed this creature as a friend, not as an enemy.

“Gon-Thok.” The creature turned at Par’s call. “It’s me, Par.”

“Bar,” it croaked in semi-recognition, both of the alien word and his alien friend.

The others looked at each other in disbelief.

 
“My friends here need to get to the other ship,” Par said slowly, all the time gesticulating to himself, the others and the shuttle behind him to emphasize his point.

“This is crap! You’re telling me this thing understands you?” but before Par could answer Kit’s outburst, the alien had done it for him.

“Chee-men-wi. Mi-greb,” it said, looking at the shuttle behind them. It almost seemed to frown.

“Other ship,” Par said quietly under his breath. He looked behind him and realized what was causing the misunderstanding. He was essentially asking Gon-Thok to do something it had already done. Find the other ship. They’d found the shuttle. How could he now communicate that they needed to get back to the DSM?

“Chee-men-wi,” he began again, then with his fingers, motioned walking. “Mi-greb.” He lowered his arms “Mi-greb,” he said again, straining as if he were carrying something enormous, emphasizing the enormity of the ship he was trying to describe. Still no sign that the alien understood his meaning. He stopped and rubbed his chin thoughtfully. This was getting them nowhere. “Ban-chi,” he said finally, throwing his arms wide as if flinging open a cape. Gon-Thok visibly started, its eyes widening.

“What did you say?” Kate asked, both surprised and a little encouraged by the creature’s reaction.

“The Ban-chi was the thing that attacked us. At least that’s Gon-Thok’s word for the creature.”

“And how’s that gonna help us?” Kit said dejectedly, still unimpressed by it all.


Because
…” Par turned on him, his patience waning rapidly, “I’m hoping it will associate the Ban-chi with where it found me. He turned away, muttering under his breath.

“What did he say?” Kit demanded of Wyatt.

“I didn’t hear.”

“Don’t disrespect me, man,” Kit warned, “I’ll hurt you real bad if you disrespect me.”

Wyatt figured Kit would have another and better reason to hurt Par if he knew what Par had done to him, to them all. “I have no doubt of that,” he said to Kit, “But let’s just drop it for the time being, shall we? We’ve all got more important things to focus on.”

One of those things was the alien, watching their altercation with curiosity. When they stopped it gave a sharp jerk of its head and turned away from them, heading for the forest, stopping only to look back at them when they didn’t follow.

“What’s it doing?” Kit demanded.

“Does it understand? Does it want us to follow?” Wyatt asked.

“I don’t know,” Par said, shrugging “But I think so.”

“You think so?” Kit rounded on Par again.

“Well I guess there’s only one way to find out,” and Wyatt stepped away from the new confrontation and towards the alien. Seemingly satisfied with this, Gon-Thok turned away and trudged back towards the trees from whence it came. Kate followed Wyatt, leaving Kit to fume in Par’s face which he did for a moment longer before turning and following.

“It will disappear at times,” Par called after them. “Just like you need to rest, so Gon-Thok needs to revitalize. It will go to find water. It needs to keep its skin moist in the heat of the day. It is amphibian, after all.” He watched them to the tree line and then hobbled back to the shuttle where Chris helped him in.

 

*
  
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*
  
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*

 

Shortly after they set out, Wyatt sidestepped and let Kate pass him, falling back behind her. She frowned at him as she walked by, wondering what he was doing, but knew better than to question his reasoning.

Personally, he thought his logic was obvious. He wanted Kit and Kate apart and used himself as a physical barrier. This way he could keep an eye on her and know that Kit could adequately look after himself bringing up the rear. Kate’s frown made him question his action though. Maybe he was over-reacting. Maybe Kate didn’t perceive the threat from Kit as much as he did. Maybe he was just being over-protective.

Regardless, this was the best order for them to march. Kate, the least experienced, would do well to follow the creature. Native here, its eyes and ears would be attuned to the surroundings and if there was a threat, Wyatt had no doubt that it would identify it long before even his years of experience alerted him of the same. He must have been right, he noted, for their encounters with other creatures were few, and of these, none could be called dangerous. In their alien guide they had found an expert in the ways of the rainforest around them.

They took lunch soon after mid-day. No one was particularly hungry—all too focused on the task they must complete for themselves and their injured friends who had stayed behind at the shuttle—but it was a convenient time to stop and eat. The alien had turned to them and motioned in Par’s sign language for them to stop, two webbed hands thrown up in mock surrender and the best it could manage at a look of abject terror. It was comical and Wyatt nearly laughed, but they were communicating, albeit primitively, and there was something almost magical about that. The laugh never came but the smile remained on his face for a long time, long after the alien had disappeared to find the nearest water source like Par had said it would.

Kit perched himself on a large rock. “Where the hell is this thing taking us?”

“To the other ship,” Wyatt told him.

“Do you know that for sure?”

“Well no, but it’s our best guess. Besides, it’s our only hope.”

“How do we know Par can even talk to this thing? That whole circus show back there proved nothing.” Kit stopped and thought for a while. “What if he’s got ideas of his own? What if Byron wasn’t attacked at all and that was all some bullshit story to throw us off the scent?”

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