Homesick

The climb was a monstrous effort, and one Sally would never have predicted they could have made at the pace they took it even with their amplified strength. The doctor in her hated what she’d done. She was forcing their bodies to ignore injuries and divert energy from fat stores and blood sugars at a much higher rate than was safe. Their metabolisms were surging like runaway trains, their joint inflammation was being drained at the risk of liver damage and, most importantly, the constant pain they should be feeling was being masked. People under the influence of similar drugs could win fights by punching hard enough to break bones in their hands or win races by risking muscle tears or bone splinters. But they were making progress. She could hear Ian’s lungs working like bellows, not erratically now, but consistently fast. They would need to eat soon to avoid crashing their metabolisms and they would need serious counter-medication to safely flush their systems. In the meantime, however, it was fun! Euphoria was one of the side effects of the brew, and Sally had to constantly remind herself of the danger they were still in. The wind on her face caressed her and it carried exhilarating smells of spring, triggering long hidden instincts within her. She saw the scenery rush by with the help of her pounding legs. Looking back, they could no longer see the camp, nor any signs of pursuit. And, as the slope began to flatten, they were actually picking up more speed!

But something ahead spurred them on more than any drug Sally could concoct. Just visible in the tops of two trees on the hillside was the flapping, gray shape of one of the chutes! Ian held his computer out in front of them, consulted it, and nudged them to the right.

They smiled at each other, both feeling the rush of distorted confidence. Their faces were cold with a layer of sweat constantly evaporating, and their lungs were operating too fast for them to exchange words. Sally hoped the rush would last just a little bit longer, though she could already detect ebb in the burst of energy they were riding. Eventually they would begin to wind down like toy soldiers. When that happened they would be lucky if they could even walk, and another shot would be suicide!

But then they saw the shuttlepod on the ridge ahead! For a brief instant, both of them stared in disbelief. They grunted with victory and, impossibly, they quickened their pace.

Rapture! For the first time since they’d set out, Sally began to believe they were going to make it! There was the pod right in front of them! There was her way back home! Jackie! She would see Jackie again! Her tired face smiled prematurely. She slipped the field key from her sleeve and pointed it at the ship, holding down the green button that sent the command to open the outer door. She waited for the door to come down. It didn’t. She pushed again. No. Again.

“Ian, try your door key,” she panted. “I think . . . Oh, my God!”

As if they had arrived in some twisted nightmare, the forest came to life! Something huge and long literally oozed out of the trees like a gigantic metal snake! No, not a snake, more like a centipede. Its body was segmented and made of something hard and shiny. At first, neither of them recognized this organic-looking beast as a vehicle, but it clearly was. It was painted in camouflage and Sally could make out a tinted window in the leading end. It glided to a stop, making virtually no noise. And then the sides of the vehicle opened up and three tall figures emerged. Sally vaguely recognized the technology of the vehicle now. It was a true caterpillar, the ultimate stealth tank. It had a completely flexible chassis that took on the shape of the terrain as it crawled, camouflaging its movement and making it completely silent! How long had that thing been stalking them?

The three from the vehicle faced them in a V formation with one behind and two in front. Their bodies were clad in jointed armor that looked flexible, as if composed of dense plastic, light but strong. Their suits were painted green in a camouflage pattern that made them disappear against the trees. All three wore helmets that obscured their eyes behind dark visors. The two in front were clearly different than the one behind, however. They were taller and bulkier and their armor was far more elaborate. Their helmets were larger and covered more of their heads. They were also bristling with electronic devices, some of which were connected to other areas of the suits by trunks of electrical cable. Their right arms were laden with even more such devices, which grew from every joint. Glowing displays shown on the insides of their forearms from elbow to wrist. Clearly this was more than just a uniform, but Sally didn’t know what. They stared at each other, neither group moving for a moment. Then Sally and Ian backed slowly towards the ship, dragging Scott with them.

“Get the door open!” she whispered to Ian.

“They’re jamming the signal,” he whispered back.

“Just like they probably did before.”

Then the one from behind sprang to life, pulling a long thin object from behind his back and brandishing it like a sword.

“Ian, for God’s sake, open the door!”

She could feel Ian drop Scott’s arm and start for the ship. The attackers spread out to block possible escape routes to either side. The man with the pole ran at her, swinging! Then, in sudden panic, Sally hefted Scott upright to his feet, though she wasn’t sure if her move was to protect him or her. The rod struck Scott with an electric crackle, transmitting part of the jolt to Sally. She tingled all over and her hands twitched violently. Even with the remains of her chemical rush still in full force, her knees buckled and she and Scott fell backwards in a helpless lump. The pole-man loomed over her now, a smile appearing on what she could see of his lips. He pausing to glance at what Ian was doing, holding the pole aloft. The other two had somehow armed themselves with large nets, which they now brought forward, closing in on the group. The pole-man swung the rod back and forth between her and Ian in a threatening gesture. He then leaped away towards Ian and the other two snapped to a different formation, opening their nets and descending on Sally and Scott. Time slowed to a trickle as she saw one of them spread his net and prepare to drop it on her. It was not made of rope, but instead looked like thick, rusty wire! She knew if it fell on her she would be helpless! She struggled to drag herself away, getting out from under Scott.

Crack! Crack! Crack! Ian’s gun barked, throwing off spent shell casings that tinkled on the concrete. One of the net-men’s heads flew back and exploded, its remains hanging on his neck at an ugly angle! He went down in a fountain of blood that all but covered his armor, his arms twitching violently. The other stopped, sizing up the situation. He consulted the controls on his arm. Sally was on her feet again, moving closer to Ian. The pole-man was taken by surprise, too, and looked back and forth between Ian and Sally, stepping back with new caution.

The other net-man hovered between the pole-man and Sally, as if in some kind of a dance. Ian followed him with his gun like a shooting gallery duck. Then the pole-man made his move! While Ian was watching the net-man, he flung the pole hard in his direction and stepped back.

At that moment, Sally’s world slowed down with a new adrenaline rush. She could see the pole streaking through the air in a perfect line for Ian’s unsuspecting torso. It glowed blue, dripping tiny arcs of power! Then, as if by some long forgotten instinct, Sally sprang like a cat right in front of Ian’s surprised face. She flew directly across the path of his gun and took a savage swipe at the flying rod, deflecting it with her forearm, and sending it end-over-end in a random direction. But, even through her sleeve, she felt the current invade her, climbing up her arm and into her shoulder like a fiery snake! She screamed and fell hard to the ground. Once there, she struggled to orient herself, soon realizing her entire right side was paralyzed almost down to her leg, leaving her flopping like an injured bird. The net-man moved in on her, as if reacting to her helpless condition, though she wasn’t sure if his actual target was her or Ian behind her.

Crack! Crack! Crack!

The net-man’s whole body was thrown backwards as three neat holes appeared in his chest armor. His body sagged heavily against the caterpillar car, slowly sinking to the ground, leaving a bloody smear!

Ian leveled his gun at the final target, placing the smaller man’s head squarely in the sight, waiting for any excuse to fire. The pole-man stepped back, stealing a glance at his second dead comrade.

Both Ian and Sally jumped, however, when an odd sound issued from behind them. Sally managed to prop herself up enough to gain her footing and whirled around to see the shuttlepod door folding down! She glanced at her working hand. It still held the field key, and her thumb was still crushing down on the button! She’d been pushing it all the time and with such force that her thumbnail glowed white!

“Get him into the ship!” Ian shouted.

Sally sprang to life, rushing to Scott with one arm dangling uselessly. Her affected leg burned with pins and needles, and she credited the remains of her drug boost that she was able to walk at all. She grabbed at Scott’s jacket collar, dragging him frantically towards the extended ramp. She could hear the inner door scrape open above her. One step up, two. She kneeled down and gripped Scott’s chest in a half hug, dragging him upward with strength she was amazed she still had. Then, hugging him more tightly to her body, she planted one leg on the nearest tread and pushed, ratcheting her way up into the darkness. When she reached the top of the ramp they both toppled over and she slid him onto the metal floor.

Ian had been taking fleeting glances at her progress while inching his trigger finger back and forth with the alien in his sight. He started backing towards the ramp, his eyes trained on his enemy. He didn’t fire, though he couldn’t be positive of his motives. On principle, he wouldn’t fire on an unarmed opponent, though in this case he might have been justified. But, on the other hand, he was also uncertain how many rounds he had expended. And, though he was reasonably familiar with the weapon, he hadn’t actually checked the magazine to see if it was fully loaded or even how many rounds it actually held. If his next shot missed or misfired, he may not have time to reload. Then he would lose his one advantage over the alien. He took another step back.

“Get ready to raise the door! I’m coming up!”

Ian struck the lowest tread with his heal and guided his foot up onto it, still pointing the pistol like an accusing finger. He climbed the next step. Then the next.

“Now!”

Sally stabbed the button and the servomotor whined. Ian bent his knees to maintain his stance as he rode upwards. When the door was level with the horizon he leaped backwards, tumbling into the ship and sending the gun clattering behind him. The door clamped shut with a metallic handshake. They were safe!

“I’m on the monitor!” Sally said, gasping from exertion. “You get us out of here! Skip any steps you can! He’s still standing there.”

“Help me secure Anderson,” Ian shouted. “God, look at the state of him!”

Sally touched at her limp arm. “I can’t. My arm’s paralyzed!” But, even as she said this, she worked with her free arm to grab the limp man’s waist, locking her fingers into his greasy belt to take one side of him. Ian climbed awkwardly onto the Co-pilot’s couch and guided him up. Sally pushed with her shoulder until Scott rolled silently onto the couch. She then collapsed again, banging her knees hard on the metal floor and slamming her numb arm on the edge of the inner door. She winced with pain, but took comfort in the clicking of the harnesses from above.

The ship hummed to life as Ian took his place. The colored lights from the instrument panel displays lit the interior with a reassuring glow, which was the most beautiful sight Sally could imagine seeing just then. But she continued to stare suspiciously at the monitor. The pole-man was walking around the ship now, scrutinizing it. He went to one of the dead net-men and raised his tool arm, studying the alien displays.

“Let’s go, Ian! He’s doing something out there!”

“Fuel heating! Reaction in fifteen seconds!” He turned to the empty navigator’s couch. “Hey!” he shouted, staring down in horror. “Get up here! Strap in!”

Sally tore her eyes from the monitor, almost collapsing again as her knees screamed for attention. She wobbled to a standing position and groped for the ladder. She almost sat on her numb arm as she swung onto the couch, releasing more burning pain! She fastened the straps just as the main engines hissed to life.

“Here we go!” Ian shouted.

The hiss was replaced explosively by a mighty roar, and Sally found herself pushed deep into the couch, her breath rushing from her lungs. Her eyes defocused as they sunk into their sockets and she could barely see the image of the retreating landscape below. The road appeared on the console monitor as a jagged chalk line on the landscape and then vanished into insignificance as the mountainside retreated downward.

Their breathing came in labored gasps as the engines lifted them beyond the clouds. The ship jolted as the main motor detached, dropping below on puffy white parachutes. Then the secondary engines fired and the ship accelerated yet faster. Moments later, the cabin grew quieter. The pitch of the engines changed as the atmosphere outside dropped away. The daylight from the forward view port grew increasingly pale, fading into the endless night of space. And then their weight lifted away, leaving them to breathe more easily than they imagined possible.

The ship re-oriented as their orbital insertion was completed. The horizon was now visible in the lower half of the main port and the last of the hazy upper atmosphere dropped away. Sally felt her leg lift from the couch and all the blood that had pooled beneath her began to re-circulate. The monstrous gravity had finally left them! She drew a deep breath without difficulty for the first time in what seemed like days. When the engines hissed to silence, the quiet became so unnatural it felt like a pressure on her ears. The only sounds remaining were the steady electronic tones from the pilot’s console as Ian paged through graphic displays, studying the information on the navigation window.

“Congratulations!” Sally whispered. “We made it!”

But Ian’s silence made her look. His attention was fixed onto the console and his ears were bright red.

“What is it, Ian?”

“I’m not getting the ship!” he said in a panic-stricken tone. “I’m not getting the bloody feeds! Nothing! The Kelthy’s gone!”