Domus Page 10

  Inside the cave, I marked the walls with small stones. I drew pictures of the animals we have encountered so far and will use this as a guide to track the caves that are safe to inhabit or shelter in; not just for me, but for future Seeker generations also.

  After sweeping the cave and confirming it empty, I made my bed midway in. The sleeping sack had proved adequate, and I am now awake and well rested. I fold away my sack and pack the turret back into its pack.

  A new day means another chapter in the story of taking Domus.

  I climb down the cliff face and let the water run through my short grey hair. The coldness is refreshing. I cup my hands and gulp at the water when they are full to the brim. I can feel the sun warming my back, and the sweeping vista in front of me is something to behold.

  Gone is the forest. In front of me now is a basin of grazed grass that stretches for as far as I can see. There is an armoured animal on all fours grazing in the distance. I can see splines jutting from its body and a ball of bone on the end of its tail. I’m not going that way, even on the fast quad, even with Ex Materia; I’m not going that way.

  There is no need to take uncalculated risks. I have a lifetime to secure this planet, and as they say back home, Rome wasn’t built in a day.

  The quad is where I left it. I reach her and check her over. Not a mark on her and nothing missing, but the area has gained something overnight—a foot high pile of droppings. It smells like an old compost heap mixed with horse manure. Something had come sniffing around in the night. And whatever it was, it was big.

  The quad starts first time. I feel safer with her vibrating through the ground around me. I retrieve the map I am sketching on a pad of paper and mark the cave location. When the Dweller is buried and we start again, caves like that one will house future generations of mankind. I put my map away, and I am off.

  The wheels cut up the dryer land and fling grass and soil out the back. The wind rushes through my short hair and whistles over my eye patch. I bear left and keep the quad heading towards a small mountain range at the edge of our continent. We shouldn’t need to climb the mountain or concern ourselves with what is on it, but the base is a good corner for our new triangulation.

  The plain here is bumpy and hilly, but I can see most of the journey all the way to the mountains. I will deal with anything hiding behind the hills and nooks when I come to it. Forests line both sides, and anything could come from them in ambush. I will keep my wits about me, but at the moment I cannot see a Dinosaur for miles.

  That isn’t to say there is no evidence of them. The quad jolts every now and then in what I initially thought was just ruts and dips in the land, but I can see it now; they are footprints. Whatever made this must have feet the size of bathtubs, and then I remember the size of the beast that the landing probes had filmed.

  Bones also litter the plain, large and small. And there are mounds of droppings and carcasses sunk into the soil. Feathers drift on the soft breeze.

  I hear something just out on the horizon, just a few yards ahead on a small mound. It isn’t a living noise. It isn’t the roar of a Dinosaur or calling of a bird; it’s a beeping noise, mechanical.

  I pull the throttle on the quad and race up the hill, the four wheel drive cutting and biting into the ground for traction. The bleeping grows louder and louder until I find it; one of the landing probes is still here and still intact. The other is at the bottom of the hill on the other side, but it is in pieces at the bottom of one of those bathtub-footprints.

  But this one appears to still be transmitting.

  I pull the probe out of the ground and look into the lens. We missed a trick. If we had made these two way than I could speak to Racker now and get a situation report on the Dweller. As it is, I’m not even sure if this is still recording.

  After smiling for the camera and giving thumbs up, I stick the probe back into the ground. If it can still record, then it might still help us. I face the camera towards the mountain range, feeling slightly happier to think that someone might be watching my back.

  I climb back onto the quad and pull the throttle. I snake down the mound and carry on towards the range. After planting this next beacon I will need to journey back this way again and further in the other direction to plant the last corner of the beacon triangle. I just hope the quad has enough fuel to do all that and get me home to the Dweller.

  There is a smell on the air that I have not smelt for over twenty years: rain.

  The journey begins to get tough.

  Rain clouds roll down from the mountains from nowhere, and they unleash Domus’ wrath against me. It is torrential. It seems to come down in streams rather than drops, and it’s all around me as far as my eye can see. Strips of water connect the land to the sky. Puddles swell instantly, and the quad is having a tougher time on the slippery surface.

  The rear wheels lose traction and the oversteer tries to bring the back end to the front. I turn into each skid, every slip and slide. I will not take my hand off the accelerator. Forests loom over me on both sides, and I can feel eyes upon me. It’s probably just paranoia, but I will not stop here.

  Mud and water kicks up in my wake, and the engine roars louder with the extra work. I will not let up. Lightning strikes over the mountain summit, and it startles my single eye. The forks flash in the grey sky and light up the snow a brilliant blue-silver, similar to the colour of our Seeker uniforms. The thunder rumbles through the floor beneath the quad wheels.

  I am soaked through. My clothes feel heavy, and my sodden eye patch is trying to slide down my face. I can feel the cold water creep into my wound and it stings.

  But I keep pushing. I keep the accelerator switch held back, and I keep pushing through the rain, through the storm, through the pain that throbs in my straining face. I have gritted my teeth so hard that my tight face threatens to burst my stitches, and my teeth are grinding.

  You can do it, Reed. You can do it, you saggy old man! This is what you signed up for! This is what you were chosen for!

  The quad begins to fishtail again, but I hold her. I keep on, and suddenly I cannot see the mountain top without craning my neck upwards. The soft soil and grass beneath me is gradually replaced by rock and loose sediment. A few feet above me now is the steady climb to the summit, peppered with sticks and old bird’s nests. I am at the base of the range. I have made it.

  I manage to erect my tent and take what little cover I can from the elements. I keep the front open so I can watch over the plain in front, and I have deployed the turret at the tents back in case anything comes down from the mountains.

  The dried beef rations are awful. The vacuum pack has done its, job but this stuff was vile from the very beginning. Cows at home were no longer ‘free-range.’ The sea had swallowed most of the land, and our cattle were since bred in cages.

  The cold tea is even worse.

  I sit, and I wait. I wait for the rain to stop, but it doesn’t. I climb out and see that the grey clouds stretch for miles all around. They are so thick they make the Domus’ sun look like the Domus’ moon. It isn’t going to end, and the Seeker Project is running out of time. I have to push on.

  The tent is packed away and loaded onto the quad. I lift one of the spare beacons and drive it down into the ground. I hold it firm until the arms lock it in place and a green light beeps on. One beacon is in place, and only one to go.

  The quad is packed and ready to continue with our task. I look out over the way I had come, towards the way I need to go back, and it looks like a floodplain. The lighting over my head reflects all the way over the land in front. The water is inches deep now, with only the tallest shrubs and grasses breaking the surface. I know that Sarah made the quad better, as good as it can be, but I’m not sure it will be enough.

  I start her up and edge her down the small climb I had ascended. The wheels roll until the shale meets soggy soil and grass. If I do this, then I risk the quad. If I hesitate, then I risk lives and the whole project. I don’t have to
make the decision myself.

  Something squeals in the sky behind me. It was the shrill shriek of a large bird mixed with the trumpet of an elephant. I turn to see, and my blood thickens with terror.

  Those were not bird’s nests.

  The sky behind me is alive with flying monsters. Two, then three, now there are six—six in total. There are six, and I know what these things are. Pterodactyls. Their wing spans are easily four feet long. Every shriek they make with their straight jaws show off their rows of razor teeth.

  And they know I am here.

  I pull the accelerator and the quad pushes through flooded plain. Water sprays out of the back in a fountain, but at least I am moving. The water comes half way up the wheels, but they have kept their traction so far.

  The switch on Ex Materia is flicked, and she rumbles against my back.

  I turn my head to see them with my one eye, but their short grey and white feathers blend them into the clouds above. They are nothing but blurs, but that doesn’t stop me seeing them gaining on me. Taking my eye off the road causes me to hit a mound on the plain. All four wheels land back down with a crash. One of the light-grenades loosens from my belt and sinks into the water.

  The first Pterodactyl is on me. I feel the talons try and grip my back, but they slide off harmlessly for now. Another one swoops down, and I can hear the metal squeak where its talons scratch off some of the quad’s paint. A third swoops, and its claws tear the raincoat that I wear over my Seeker uniform, and they scratch my flesh.

  Ex Materia is switched to laser and swung off my shoulder. It is only effective for a view feet, and it drains more power than bolts. Every shot will now count.

  My left hand keeps the accelerator pulled, and I aim her with my right. It is a struggle to hold her steady, but the constant laser stream allows me to move my aim while firing.

  Another Pterodactyl makes a dive, and I pull the trigger.

  The brilliant white light from the muzzle of Ex Materia is almost too bright to look at, but I do. I adjust my aim slightly, and the stream of laser effortlessly takes off a wing. The reptilian-bird falls into a bundle and rolls around on the floor in pain, squawking, shrieking, and cursing.

  On my left side, another one begins a swoop. Rain is running into my open eye, but I see it. I lay Ex Materia across my lap and pull the trigger. The stream hits first time, and the Pterodactyl is split in half right across the waist. A third is making another swoop from behind now. I pull Ex Materia from my lap and lean right backwards to take aim. I pull the trigger, and the bird splits diagonally.

  The quad suddenly hits a mound and one hand is not enough to keep me seated. It carries on without me, skidding and sloshing through the mud.

  I spit out a mouthful of muddy rainwater. My coat and uniform are weighing me down, pulling me towards the floor. I struggle in the mud, struggle to gather my bearings and Ex Materia. The Pterodactyls are circling and shrieking overhead. I manage to climb up on my feet and stand ankle-deep in the deluge. There are three left in the sky above, all shrieking with anticipation of the kill.

  The first, the smallest of the three, begins a dive towards me. I flick Ex Materia to ‘bolts’ and unleash a blinding blast of red light. The reptile-bird crackles with lightning and disintegrates in the air. The second largest begins to descend, and a bolt finds its journey towards me, meeting head on with a flash of light. Both wings are melted away, and the flightless Pterodactyl falls to the ground in a spasm.

  I turn to face the largest, and my eye catches it already in a descent. It is on me before I can take aim, and Ex Materia is being wrenched from my grasp. Great talons wrap around the long barrel, and wings flap in my face. My wet fingers try to keep her, but Ex Materia comes free from my grip. The bird flies up and up, out of my reach.

  The bastard circles above, circles with Ex Materia in its grip like a trophy. It is mocking me. It flies further still and drops the gun half of a mile or so ahead, right next to where the quad has finally come to a stop.

  The big Pterodactyl comes again, swooping low and fast. I spin away, but its talons scratch across my hip. Red starts to seep through my damp Seeker uniform. I fall into the water, but raise myself up instantly. It circles and comes again, plucking a chunk of Seeker uniform and flesh from my thigh.

  I drop to one knee.

  The Pterodactyl circles above again, cawing and preparing for another, final attack. I unclip a light grenade from my belt and pull the pin to initiate the five second fuse. I have one chance at this.

  One...

  …two…

  …three…

  …the bird is beginning to descend again…

  …four…

  …I throw the light grenade. The cold metal arcs away from my over arm throw, and it meets the Pterodactyl’s beak head on. I drop face-first to the floor into the few inches of cold water. The whole plain is lit up with brilliant white light, brighter than any lightning could ever muster.

  The last Pterodactyl disappears. There is nothing left of its body to find to confirm the kill, but I heard it shriek at its last moment of life.

  I trudge back towards the quad. My face stings, my side and left arm hurt, and my thigh throbs. The amber liquid from my hipflask warms my belly and numbs the pain.

  The quad bike’s petrol gauge is at less than half. The dial on the end of Ex Materia’s stock shows that it’s almost out of juice too, and I have no way of charging it out here. The laser function costs more energy that the bolts, but using it is the only reason I am still alive. I climb on the quad and fire her up.

  The rain starts to slow. I’m not done yet. Not just yet.

  James Racker

  I knew he could do it.

  Captain Reed is one tough son-of-a-bitch and has surpassed all of us other Seekers in the military and survival training. I watched him try to escape those birds, and I watched Ex Materia fizz. I witnessed him fry all of them like I knew that he would.

  This is why he was chosen as our leader, and why I will follow him anywhere.

  “Pilot Racker, this is CETI,” the AI’s voice fizzes. “I have run the diagnosis from the video, and I can confirm that the organisms are Pterodactylus, a genus of pterosaurs whose members are popularly known as pterodactyls.”

  “Thank you, CETI, but it’s a bit late. The Cap has already made the six of them extinct. Please take manual control to watch over the current triangulation. Warn the Seekers on the comms if anything large approaches the Dweller. Alert me if Captain Reed or Doctor Yun re-enter our current watching space.”

  “With pleasure, Pilot Racker.”

  “I thought I said to just call me Racker?”

  “Did you? My apologies, but I have no recollection of this event. It has now been noted, Racker.”

  I need to get some coffee. Staring at screens for almost eleven hours had given me square eyes. At least I managed to grab a few hours’ sleep, but it seems to have done nothing for these leaden eyelids of mine.

  The Marauder is eerily silent now. The previous buzz and laugh of Seekers, and the bleeping and blooping that came from every floor has disappeared. It’s been replaced by silence everywhere except the bridge where electronic life still buzzed.

  Only the silence isn’t silent. It is, but it isn’t. There is a constant burr all around the ship. It is that noise that you can hear just before your ears pop, but it is there all the time. I think my brain might be doing it just so I have company of noise. And my heartbeat, I can hear it amplified everywhere on the Marauder.

  I have even started to sleep on the bridge. The constant buzz of screens and beeping is better than the ominous silence that isn’t silent everywhere else. I only leave when I need to shower or get a tall mug of Joe. But even the coffee is losing its edge.

  Cabin fever. I think I might have it. I can feel myself slowly going stir crazy sat up here on my own.

  The water boiler clicks and dispenses over the dried, instant granules until my mug is full. My brother got me the mug the day
before the Seeker Project launched. I know he wouldn’t have picked it himself due to his autism, but the words on it always made me smile: ‘Flying is most the most fun you can have with your pants on.’

  I guess the words are true, but I wouldn’t know yet.

  There was never a girl for me. My childhood and teenage years were spent being the sole carer for Mitch. Flying was just a hobby for me, but my peers knew I was good. When the call came from Doctor Spielerbürg to offer me a place on the Seeker Project, I was nervous at first. I didn’t want to leave Mitch. I was all he had.

  But Doctor Spielerbürg’s team were well funded. He would not take no for an answer, and he promised that if I joined, Mitch would get the best care money can buy. He would have a twenty four hour dedicated team of carers, a multi-million pound house built just for his needs, his own doctor, and the best medication available.

  It is pretty irrelevant now. I can do nothing but hope that Doctor Spielerbürg kept his word.

  “Report please, CETI,” I ask as I climb back into my chair. The seat is still as stiff as the day I first sat in it. I had hoped my ass would eventually groove into it but no.

  “There is nothing to report, Racker. The three Seekers are still in the Dweller, and there is no sign of Doctor Yun or Captain Reed.”

  “CETI, are all of our resources focused on Domus?”

  “Negative, Racker. There are still sensors and modules on the Marauder that are actively checking any approaching space rock or dust. Adding these resources to the ground effort will increase the clarity of view and slightly improve the range, but it would leave us at risk of collisions. We would not see anything approaching farther than two Domus days away.”

  “Do it, CETI. They are more at risk than me.”

  “With pleasure, Racker.”

  I sip at the warm coffee and hope it will improve my concentration. The Seekers are split up, and I need to think of a way to get them back together. The pack survives as the lone wolf dies.