THE HODMANDOD EFFECT

The shuttle landed hard, spraying mud for over a hundred yards to each side as it slid more than half a mile, finally coming to rest against the side of a slight hill. The rain was pummeling the hull, causing a cloud of steam to rise from the heated exterior of the shuttle. Brubaker sustained a slight head injury and blood streaked down his face. Fisk dislocated his right shoulder and was in pain.

Both men considered themselves lucky to still be alive. Their craft was only five miles away from the Astraeus when it exploded, causing the shuttle to careen and roll as it streaked toward the planet’s atmosphere. If not for Fisk’s cool hand at the controls, they would have burned up on entry. The shuttle’s communications’ system was fried by the shock wave when it hit them with the same degree as an electro-magnetic pulse. Sparks flew in every direction inside the cabin, creating smoke and making it hard to see the flight panel. By some miracle, Fisk leveled the craft and entered the atmosphere at the desired trajectory and level. The guidance system was malfunctioning, so he had to land manually. Somehow, Fisk managed to pull the shuttle’s nose up at the last instant to give them a good chance at coming in with a controlled skid. In the end, they survived. Bloodied, but not beaten.

The viewing shields on the bow were covered in mud, making it impossible to see outside. The rain was a big help in washing off the excess, but a thick slime still covered their view. Fisk reached out with his left hand and tried to get an exterior viewer to turn on. He soon found out that nothing worked and every time he tried to move a sharp pain ran up his neck and down his right arm. Brubaker used his shirt to wipe the blood from his face. He unstrapped from the flight chair and walked to the back of the shuttle. His steps were unsteady from a mild concussion, but he wanted to get to the first aid kit without waiting. He needed to stop the bleeding so he could see well enough to help Fisk.

It took him several minutes to properly bandage the gash in his forehead and clean the remainder of blood from his face. During this time, Fisk had managed to release his harness and walk to where Brubaker was.

“Okay, commander,” the captain said. “This is going to hurt. Bite down on this.” Brubaker put a tongue depressor, longwise, between his teeth. He put a foot into Fisk’s

side and pulled violently on the man’s right wrist. The shoulder popped back in place and it was a new experience in pain for Fisk. He yelled through clenched teeth and grimaced until tears ran down his face. Brubaker fashioned a good field sling from some heavy gauze in the first aid kit and slipped it over Fisk’s neck, sliding his arm into the fold. Luckily for both, the kit also provided powerful pain killers. They each took two and laid down to rest.

Three hours went by before Brubaker roused from his slumber. His head felt like someone had pushed it full of boiled pasta as he tried to sit up. It was a laborious effort to do so, but he managed it. A quick glance at Fisk revealed he was sleeping soundly. Not wishing to wake him, Brubaker went back to the flight controls and started trying to repair the exterior viewers. The rain had washed all the mud off the viewing shields, but it was still too dirty to

see clearly. Even so, the downpour was so thick he wouldn’t have been able to see but a few yards in front of the shuttle, even if the shields were clear. At least the exterior viewers possessed infrared sensors to detect heat signatures of animals, humans or shelters, Brubaker thought. Fisk had tried to land close to the Elpis, but they couldn’t be sure where they were.

It took more than half an hour, but Brubaker finally got the viewers working. He shook his head when he saw nothing but a blue haze and heavy rain. They were in the middle of nowhere. Believing it was safe to go outside, he grabbed a hand held positioner that contained a download of the mapping he had carried out on the Astraeus. The device could pinpoint where they were and where the Elpis was located. Not caring if Fisk slept any further, he opened the main hatch and walked out into the rain.

Brubaker watched the small screen as the device computed his desired coordinates. The rain drops pounded his head, increasing the effect of its throbbing. He tried to look around as he waited, but the rain was so thick his visibility could be calculated in inches. The positioner beeped, indicating it had finished with Brubaker’s request. He quietly cursed at the result. They had crash landed more than a hundred miles from the Elpis.

The ground situation would make their progress difficult. Throw in the sheets of rain and their physical condition, the two men would consider ten miles a day a great accomplishment. It would take them at least two weeks to reach the ship. Water was one commodity they didn’t have to worry about. There were enough rations in the shuttle for five days if they ate every day. It was quickly decided by Brubaker that every other day would suffice, leaving the last two or three with nothing to eat. He turned when he heard Fisk’s voice.

“What are you doing out there?”

“Checking out our situation,” Brubaker replied.

Fisk could tell by the look on the captain’s face he wasn’t pleased.

“Go ahead,” he said. “Give me the bad news.”

“It’s going to be a long walk.”

“In this?” Fisk asked, looking up to the grey sky. “How far?”

“You don’t want to know.”

“When do we get started?”

“Tomorrow morning,” Brubaker suggested. “We’ll rest some more. We’re going to need it before we see the Elpis.”

Fisk simply nodded and stepped back inside the craft. Brubaker turned off the positioner and followed him in. He pushed a button next to the hatch and watched it as it closed, locking fast. They tried to get as comfortable as possible and lay down.

The next morning Brubaker had thrown a makeshift breakfast together and handed Fisk his portion. The man took it without a word and began to eat. It wasn’t until then that the captain noticed something. He listened intently and placed his hands on the ceiling of the shuttle. Fisk saw that he was acting strangely.

“What is it?”

“Don’t you hear it?” Brubaker said.

“Hear what? I don’t hear anything.”

“Exactly,” Brubaker commented. “The rain…it’s stopped.”

Brubaker opened the hatch and stepped outside. The sky was clear with not a cloud to be seen. Dawn was breaking across the horizon and it was the most beautiful sight he had ever seen.

What’s more, he could make out the terrain. It was as wide and vast as the plains of old Texas. A bluish green grass, waist high, was all one could see in every direction. He walked back in with a broad smile.

“There’s no sign of rain,” he said. “I’m going to pack our supplies. Be ready to shove off in about half an hour.”

Brubaker grabbed a backpack and stuffed it with the rations and what water they had on board. He strapped a belt and holster around his waist and thrust the positioner into it. Remembering to take the medical supplies, he put a few more odds and ends into the pack. These were items like writing utensils, extra batteries for the positioner, lights for nighttime, a long- range scanner, binoculars with night vision capability, a small cooker for making a campfire and

a recording device for his daily log entries. There were two combat knives on the shuttle and he gave one to Fisk, sliding the other inside the belt.

Both men stepped outside. Fisk waited while Brubaker turned on the positioner and plotted their course. Once that was done, the captain took the binoculars and was going to scan the area in three-hundred sixty degree fashion. He stopped cold when he looked behind them. Brubaker zoomed in as far as he could and stared. Fisk saw him transfixed and turned around.

“What is it?”

“I don’t know,” Brubaker said, handing Fisk the binoculars. “A whole lot of something coming this way.”

Fisk looked through the glasses and tried to discern what he was seeing. He took them down and glanced at Brubaker.

“Whatever they are, they’re moving slow.”

“But steady,” Brubaker added. “Must be thousands of them.”

“A herd of something, you think?”

“Maybe,” Brubaker said. “I don’t want to hang around to find out. They’re about ten miles away. Let’s go.”

Fisk fell in behind the captain as he trudged forward in the deep mud. Every so often they would look back to see the line of what was believed to be a large herd of animals falling back.

At least they aren’t catching up to us, Brubaker thought.

The sun rose sharply and by midday they were wishing for the rain to return. The humidity was tremendous as the heat bore down on them. Steam rose as the rainwater evaporated and they choked on the smell. By day’s end, the positioner indicated they had made eight miles, not the ten they were hoping for. The men found a small knoll on which to make camp. Brubaker lit the cooker as night fell and both of them settled in.

“I thought the Adventure probes said this planet had a mild climate,” Fisk said.

“They did,” Brubaker agreed. “Maybe they missed something. It sure was hot today. It was too hot.”

“Hard to believe the difference,” Fisk added. “One day it’s cool and wet, then the next day it’s hot, arid and dry.”

“Yeah,” Brubaker commented. “The way that water was evaporating today, we might want to take it easy on the water we have.”

“That’s going to be hard to do, captain,” Fisk said. “I was sweating pretty bad today.” “Me, too, commander,” Brubaker replied. “We’ll just have to go back to our basic

training days and remember to do without.”

“Yes, sir,” Fisk responded.

That was the last words they spoke that evening. Brubaker turned off the cooker to preserve its fuel. Both fell into a deep sleep and did not wake until just before dawn. Brubaker rose and fixed their only meal for the day. He nudged Fisk and both ate in silence. By the time they broke camp and were ready to go, the sun was rising over the horizon.

“It might be a good idea to stay here and travel at night,” Brubaker suggested.

Fisk stood up and stared at something behind Brubaker.

“I don’t think so, captain,” he said softly, pointing in the direction he wanted Brubaker to

look.

The captain turned and couldn’t believe his eyes. The herd was much closer than they could have believed. Brubaker grabbed the binoculars and surveyed the situation. He clicked a button on the glasses and immediately a digital readout appeared in front of his right eye. The distance of his focus was five miles.

“What are they?” Fisk asked, not really expecting an answer.

“I can’t tell from this distance,” Brubaker answered. “They must not have stopped. No way they could be this close and rested during the night.”

“I got a bad feeling,” Fisk said.

“Me too,” Brubaker said. “From now on we rest a couple of hours and move on.”

“How long do you think we can keep that up?”

Brubaker took another look through the binoculars.

“As long as we have to,” he said.

**********

Dr. Adam Davis was ecstatic to see the end of the rain. However, that soon turned to disdain as the heat rose and the steam soaked him and his fellow scientists to the bone. To be outside was to be in a natural sauna. By high noon his lungs were hurting and he was coughing up the moisture inhaled throughout the morning. BOB-1 was unaffected, going about the duties that Davis had programmed for him. Davis’ specialty was atmospheric conditions, so the phenomena of rain then heat, cool then dry, happening so rapidly, was of great interest to him. Constance Lehman was the associate environmental specialist and was working closely with Davis as they were trying to understand why the change in weather patterns was so dramatic. Davis’ interests were soon interrupted as he watched Sergeant Stone approaching him.

The sergeant was wearing his bio suit and a stern look could be seen through the helmet visor as he walked up to Davis. He was also carrying an aluminum case in one hand. The scientist looked him over from head to toe and produced a smirk, shaking his head.

“What are you doing in that stupid get-up?”

“Orders of Lieutenant Rooney,” Stone answered. “Security team does not leave environmentally controlled conditions unless equipped with Federal States standard issue biological protective outerwear. Without prior approval, sir.”

“Security team?” Davis laughed. “The whole lot of two? Well, thank you for protecting me, sergeant. Now go on about your business. I have work to do.”

“I am about my business,” Stone said.

The sergeant suddenly turned his attention to BOB-1 and strode to where the robot was standing. He went behind it and dropped to one knee, placing the case on the ground and quickly opened it.

“Here, here,” Davis said, walking over. “What do you think you’re doing?”

Stone didn’t answer. He reached up and dropped a panel from BOB-1’s back. He pulled a cord from the case and plugged it in. Stone then threw two switches that shut the robot down.

“What are you doing?!” Davis exclaimed. “I demand to know!”

Stone rose, removing a hand held remote control from the case. He snarled at Davis.

“I’m requisitioning one Federal States standard issue robotic artificial intelligent type personnel from your possession, sir.”

“By whose authority?” Davis hissed.

“By the express order of the chief of security, Lieutenant Austin Rooney.”

“Lt. Commander Rogers assigned this robot to me,” Davis fumed. “That outranks your lieutenant’s orders…sergeant. Do I make myself clear?”

“Then I suggest you take it up with Lt. Commander Rogers,” Stone shot back. “And if you do, you better get used to eating without your teeth for the rest of your miserable life. Do I make myself clear?”

“Are you threatening me, sergeant?”

“Yes, sir,” Stone said, coldly. “I certainly am. Please feel free to say one more word to me, doctor, as I assure you it will be physically detrimental to your present condition of personal health.”

Stone thrust the visor covering his face into Davis’s nose. For the first time, a look of fear came over him. He was certain the sergeant was not bluffing. The smirk was now on Stone’s face. He stepped back and used a joy stick to control BOB-1’s movements. The robot moved according to Stone’s instructions and the two left Davis standing where he was.

It took about half an hour for Stone to get BOB-1 to the Elpis. They went inside and stopped off at the decontamination station. After that, they went straight to the security command center. Rooney was waiting for them and quickly removed the circuit boards that might re- activate BOB-1 if he had been tampered with in the same manner that BOB-2 was. Stone removed his bio suit and watched Rooney work.

“If they did mess with him,” Stone said. “Why wouldn’t he have come to find you?”

“I don’t know,” Rooney replied. “Somehow, somebody rigged BOB-2 to respond to any diagnostic that would work to re-activate him. I’m not smart enough to figure out how it was done. I am smart enough to see if our friend here has been messed with yet.”

Rooney sat back and watched the monitor as the diagnostic ran. Both men kept their eyes on it, trying to see if anything untoward was revealed. As they waited for the program to finish, Leslie walked in and stood behind Rooney. He could see her reflection in the glass, but gave her no notice.

“What’s going on?” She asked.

“Just checking Bob out,” Rooney answered, not looking at her.

“Doctor Davis is pretty mad,” she said, glancing at Stone.

“Yeah?” Rooney queried, innocently. “About what?”

“He says that Stone threatened him.”

The sergeant stood up and towered over her.

“Who else did he say that to?” Stone asked.

“Just me,” she said. “He’s too fucking scared to say it to anybody else.”

Stone smiled and sat down, resuming his watch on the monitor.

“I’m sure the sergeant didn’t threaten anyone, right sergeant?” Rooney asked with an inquisitive smile.

“Yes, sir,” Stone replied. “I merely appropriated the robot for a security check.”

“Um-huh,” Leslie sneered.

She walked to the side and pulled up another chair, sitting beside Rooney.

“Austin, what’s really going on?”

Rooney looked at her for the first time.

“Leslie, what’s going on is a classified security matter. Since most of our duties have been rescinded, we do what we can with what we have.”

“That didn’t answer my question.”

The monitor beeped, signifying the diagnostic was complete. Stone and Rooney scanned the findings and were satisfied that BOB-1 was the same as he had always been. The sergeant re- activated him and the robot came to life. Rooney stood up and faced Leslie.

“Do me a favor,” he said. “Would you take Bob back to Davis for us?”

“Sure,” she agreed, standing. “Come on, Bob.”

The robot dutifully followed her out just as Rogers was walking in. He stepped out of the way to let them pass and glanced in their direction as they moved down the corridor. Rogers gave the soldiers a suspicious look.

“What’s going on?”

“Routine maintenance on Bob,” Rooney lied.

“Okay,” he said, unconvinced. “Look, I don’t think we should just assume those League guys are dead. They’re like an itch I can’t scratch unless we know what happened to them or where they went.”

“All right,” Rooney said, waiting for Rogers to continue.

“There’s not really anything for you to do here,” he said. “I want you to go back to their ship and snoop around. Use one of their rovers to scout the area.”

“Anything else?” Stone queried with a sneer.

“Yeah,” Rogers said, ignoring him. “The secondary purpose it to bring those two rovers back with some supplies. We can use the extra mobility and what they have there could supplement what we have.”

“When do you want us back?” Rooney asked.

“Take up to a week,” Rogers told them. “If you find anything sooner, report back…with the rovers.”

“Will do, commander,” Rooney said, saluting the officer.

“What about weapons?” Stone asked, looking at the floor.

Rogers sighed and kept his attention on Rooney.

“I’ll issue you a couple of sidearms,” he said. “Please don’t shoot any animals.”

“We’ll be real diplomatic this time…sir,” Stone said, glaring at Rogers.

“You know, sergeant,” Rogers said, now looking at Stone. “You got a real bad attitude.”

“Yes, sir,” the sergeant replied. “I damned sure do.”

He stood at attention and saluted Rogers, a wicked grin on his face. Rogers returned the salute, shook his head and walked out. He called out to them from the corridor.

“I’ll bring the sidearms,” he said. “Wait there.”

The soldiers didn’t say a word and started checking their bio suits to make sure they were mission ready. Rogers came back about five minutes later and handed them the .45’s with extra ammo and belts.

“Be careful,” he said, and then left the room.

The men donned the bio suits and strapped the pistols around their waists. They could now speak over the intercom and not be heard by any prying ears.

“This is just to get us out of the way,” Stone jeered.

“I’m glad,” Rooney replied. “You and I have been wanting to go back there anyway.

We’re stranded and everybody’s acting like nothing fishy is going on. Maybe we can get some answers there.”

**********

Brubaker and Fisk had been moving for ten days. The heat was getting to be unbearable.

But, that wasn’t the main worry. They were barely keeping ahead of the as yet unknown animal herd coming their way. Brubaker figured the creatures were marching at a scorching pace of just under one mile an hour. He and Fisk were able to maintain a normal walk of three miles per hour. However, they needed to take rest stops. The animals seemed to have no need of that.

The torrential rains of the past weeks had left many watering holes for the men to draw from. It was a godsend, since they were losing fluids from the heat at a rapid pace. Brubaker was concerned that it wouldn’t be much longer until those dried up. If they didn’t find a river or stream soon, it could mean the difference between life and death.

The position indicator told him that the Elpis was in reach. It angered him that all communications in the shuttle and even the hand-held devices had been toasted by the EMP when the Astraeus exploded. If he could have contacted Rogers, a team would have been sent to help them. He was right in believing they all thought he and Fisk were dead. He would have thought the same thing. All he could do was keep pushing forward and hope they could stay ahead of the herd relentlessly following them. It was possible he and Fisk could reach the Elpis in another four to five days. He was concerned about their strength. Eating once a day and then every other day didn’t fully replace the energy they were expending by keeping ahead of the herd. Brubaker thought about letting the animals catch up to them. There wasn’t any reason to believe they were dangerous. But, there wasn’t any reason to believe they weren’t. If he was wrong to wait, then they could be killed. He wasn’t willing to take that chance.

Night travel was the best time for them. They were always able to put more distance between them and the herd during that time. The lack of Beta Comae Berenices beating down on them helped tremendously. The ground was level and smooth, except for places where the mud was still prevalent and deep. The condition of the terrain didn’t seem to slow their pursuers.

Their pace remained constant.

It was during the day that the men had to take several opportunities to rest and replenish their water supply. Brubaker kept a close watch on the herd through his binoculars, occasionally allowing Fisk to take a look. They were in agreement that to keep moving whenever they could was the best policy. Still, they wondered what the next step should be once they reached the

Elpis. Just because the base was reached didn’t mean the herd would then turn around and go elsewhere. Their concern was twofold. First, stay ahead and stay alive. Second, what effect would the animals have on the ship and the surrounding base once they arrived. Would they simply pass by, Brubaker thought? Or, would they take a special interest in the new visitors and their craft? Only time would tell.

Brubaker allowed a rest break, two hours before sundown. This had become a standard practice over the last few days. Once rested, they always made good time after Ajax’s sun disappeared. Fisk threw his pack on the ground and collapsed on top of it. Brubaker squatted and

drew the binoculars to his face, scanning the horizon behind them. He could still see the herd coming, always coming.

“Are you expecting them to turn or something?” Fisk joked. “It’s like they can smell us.” “Maybe they can,” Brubaker replied, still looking at them. “That’s what worries me.” “Yeah,” Fisk chuckled, laying back and looking at the stars. “Me, too.”

“How’s the shoulder?” Brubaker asked, putting the binoculars down and turning to Fisk. “Still hurts, captain,” he said. “But I’ll manage.”

Brubaker sat down and started the cooker. He pulled a packet of coffee out of his shirt and looked wistfully at it.

“Last one,” he said, dejected. “You want it now or save it for later?”

“Oh, hell, captain,” Fisk smiled. “Let’s do it.”

Brubaker grinned and started making the coffee. After a few minutes, he handed Fisk a cup and took one for himself. He leaned on his pack and lifted a knee, resting an arm on it.

“Something keeps nagging at me, Fisk,” he said. “Right before that robot went crazy, Lieutenant Rooney contacted me.”

Fisk sat up, sipping the steaming hot coffee.

“Yeah?”

“It was strange,” he continued. “He said he was bored and was just checking on us. Then, right before everything went down, he told me had something to inform me about.”

“What was it?”

“I don’t know,” Brubaker replied. “It was then I heard Johnson scream. I never had a chance to get back to him.”

“So, what’s the problem?”

“I don’t know,” Brubaker pondered. “Rooney had complete access to those robots. There were several opportunities for him to play around with their program.”

“Rooney?” Fisk questioned, almost aghast. “A soldier? I doubt it, captain.”

“That’s what I’ve been thinking,” Brubaker admitted. “It doesn’t make sense. But, neither does a robot killing one of my crewmembers and blowing up my ship.”

“I can’t argue with that,” Fisk conceded. “But, what would be his motive?”

“We know a League ship was already on the planet,” Brubaker said. “What if Rooney is a

plant?”

Fisk thought about the question in silence for a few moments. He finished the coffee and set the cup on the ground.

“If you’re right, captain,” he finally said. “Then the sergeant is in on it, too. We’re talking about soldiers, sir. We wouldn’t stand a chance, none of us would.”

Brubaker smiled, finishing his coffee as well.

“I wouldn’t go that far, commander,” he replied. “I haven’t lived this long by being soft.”

Fisk looked embarrassed.

“I wasn’t trying to…” he began.

“I know you weren’t,” Brubaker interrupted. “Don’t worry about it. Once we get to the Elpis I’ll try to figure out what’s been going on. If it turns out that Rooney had anything to do with it, we’ll be careful about how we handle it.”

The men catnapped for the next two hours. A pre-set alarm on Brubaker’s wrist watch woke them. They quickly rose and put on their backpacks. Brubaker looked in the binoculars and could see the herd making steady progress. He shook his head and led the way, Fisk falling in behind.

For three hours the men kept up a steady pace. Fisk had to carry his pack on the good shoulder. The pain in the other was too great. The extra weight on that side of his body wa causing his hip to burn from the strain. It only took a half hour or so for the sensation to become almost unbearable. Brubaker didn’t look back to see that Fisk was getting further away from him. Up until now, his number one had been able to keep up, so he didn’t think about the possibility of his rapid tiring. He was so consumed with staying ahead of the herd and in making it to the Elpis, Fisk had become a secondary thought. Finally, the commander called out and Brubaker stopped. He shone the light behind him to see that Fisk was a full fifty yards away. He ran back to him to see what the matter was.

“I’m spent, captain,” he said, almost breathless. “I have to rest.”

“Okay, commander,” Brubaker agreed. “We’ll give it thirty minutes.”

“Thanks,” Fisk said, grateful.

Brubaker helped him with his pack and made sure he was comfortable. He looked in the binoculars and could tell they had gained ground on the herd. Brubaker changed his focus to what lay in front of them. His mouth opened and then grew into a smile.

“I think we just had a stroke of good luck,” he told Fisk. “It looks like there’s a long tree line about two clicks ahead.”

“Why is that a stroke of luck?”

“It’ll slow those guys behind us even more,” Brubaker said. “Plus, the Elpis should be on the other side in a small valley.”

“How much further?” Fisk asked, closing his eyes.

“At least two days,” Brubaker said. “Maybe three.”

“I can’t wait,” Fisk confessed. “I hope they have a soft bed waiting for me.”

“They will,” Brubaker promised. “Even if we have to share. I’m going to walk ahead and get a feel for that tree line. You okay here?”

“Yes, sir,” Fisk said. “I’ll be all right in a few minutes.”

“Okay,” Brubaker replied. “I’ll be back.”

The captain left his pack with Fisk so he could make better time. He broke into a fast trot to cover more ground. The light helped him find his path, but didn’t penetrate the tall grass to show him what lay underneath. Brubaker trotted about a half mile and then stopped to catch his breath. Looking through the binoculars, the tree line was much larger now. He scanned to his left and right. To the left was a mountain range several miles away. To the right was plain. He put the binoculars in their place and began his run to the trees. After trotting another quarter mile, his left foot fell into a hole, swallowing his leg up to the knee. As he fell forward, he could actually hear a tearing noise as a fire hot pain shot up to his hip. The knee twisted in grotesque fashion, bending at an angle the human leg wasn’t designed for. Brubaker cried out as he pulled the leg out of the hole. He grasped it with both hands, trying to rub the pain from it. Just his touch told him he was in trouble.

Brubaker was too far away for Fisk to hear him when he was initially hurt. Now, the commander could hear him yelling at the top of his lungs. Fisk quickly rose up, grabbing both packs with his good arm, and started running in the captain’s direction. After several minutes he found Brubaker’s crumpled form on the ground. He raced over to him and fell to his knees beside him.

“Captain!” He exclaimed. “What happened?”

“Fell..in..a..hole,” he gasped, the pain still intense. “Oh, man! I think I broke it.”

Fisk took the light and held it between his teeth. He grabbed his knife and slit Brubaker’s pants up past the knee. What he saw almost made him gag. Brubaker’s knee had been dislocated, at the very least. It seemed both his fibula and tibia were fractured. One of them was trying to thrust through his flesh and Fisk could tell there was bleeding underneath.

“It’s not good, captain,” he whispered.

“Hell, I knew that!” Brubaker exclaimed, taking his pain out on Fisk.

“You’ll need a splint,” Fisk told him.

“That won’t do me any good,” Brubaker said. “You have to go ahead and get help.”

“Captain,” Fisk argued. “By the time I get back that herd will have long reached you.

What if they aren’t benign?”

“That’s a chance you’re going to have to take,” Brubaker said between clenched teeth.

“I can’t just leave you here,” Fisk countered. “Not like this.”

“Yes, you can, commander!” Brubaker barked. “You will leave me and do as I say. That’s an order. Get out of here. I’ll be waiting for you.”

Brubaker handed him the positioner and only kept a small amount of water and one day’s ration of food. Fisk left the first aid kit with him. He patted Fisk on the shoulder.

“It’s noted you didn’t want to leave,” he said. “Do your best, as I know you will.”

Fisk grabbed Brubaker’s hand and squeezed as hard as he could.

“I’ll be back,” he promised.

Brubaker nodded and watched Fisk disappear into the night. He tried to get comfortable but the pain in his leg made that an impossibility. Brubaker popped four pain pills in his mouth and swallowed them with a good swig of water. Twenty minutes later, he was in no pain at all and fell fast asleep.

It was mid-morning when Brubaker was startled into consciousness. He could hear a rumble of low grunting and snorting, the sounds of thousands of creatures coming toward him. The effect of the pills was wearing off and waves of recurring pain were sweeping over his leg.

With great difficulty, Brubaker managed to prop himself up to see over the grass and through the binoculars. What he witnessed sent cold chills up and down his spine.

The herd was less than a mile away. The animals were a bluish-grey color. Their torsos were akin to that of an armadillo, but with long and stringy hair spaced out along the armor.

Brubaker couldn’t see them, but the legs of the animals were stubby, ending in feet somewhat like an elephant. The most impressive thing about them was their neck and head. The necks were almost four feet long and nimble. Bluish scales pointed outward in every direction up and down the neck’s length. Their head was triangular, the snouts long and studded with sharp, shark-like teeth. Each had two, large and bulbous eyes. They were a deep blue and lifeless looking. One of the things that caught his attention about them was the stench. Even though they were several thousand feet away, he could smell them. It was a horrendous smell. Brubaker could only imagine what they smelled like when up close. The best he could describe it was a mix between ammonia and gasoline. If they were within ten feet of him, he thought, it would almost be overpowering. He instantly recognized them from the briefings back on Earth. ‘If you guys are carnivorous,’ Brubaker thought, ‘this is going to be your lucky day.’

Brubaker guessed it would take them about a half hour to reach him. After that, he didn’t know what might happen. At best, he believed he could crawl and extend the time he had left to a full hour. But, he thought, what would be the point of that? He watched them for several minutes. From what Brubaker could tell, it seemed some were being drug along by others. Several of them were reared up on the back haunches of their companions, being drug along with them. He couldn’t tell for sure, but it looked like they were mating while moving. As they moved closer, the smell was indeed overpowering. Brubaker was finding it harder and harder to breathe. His lungs felt like they were being slowly cooked by the foul odor coming from the tremendous herd. The effect weakened him until he had to lie down. He could feel the ground vibrate underneath his body as they came closer. The smell soon became ghastly for him and he coughed repeatedly, gasping for fresh air. He could hear them almost upon him. Brubaker closed his eyes, waiting to be trampled or eaten, or both. It was then he heard a different noise above the grunts and snorts of the beasts, now only twenty feet away. Brubaker didn’t have the strength to look, and it was then he lost consciousness.

The rover pulled up to within inches of Brubaker’s position. Rooney and Stone emerged from the vehicle, both in their bio suits and unaffected by the smell of the creatures. Stone emptied the clip of his .45 directly into the head of the closest animal. Rooney scooped Brubaker into his arms and hustled him to the rover. The sergeant exchanged clips and pulled the trigger rapid fire in the same animal’s head. He couldn’t get over the fact that the bullets were hitting their mark and tearing into the beast’s flesh, but it didn’t seem to have any detrimental effect.

“Come on!” Rooney exclaimed through the com. “Let’s get out of here.”

Stone holstered the weapon and walked calmly to the rover. The herd was now almost upon them. The wounded animal was roaring as the one did back at the ship. It wasn’t dying, but it was damaged and not happy about it. Rooney shifted the rover into reverse and quickly backed away from the creatures. Once he was far enough from their advance to turn around, Rooney pointed the rover in the direction of the Elpis and shifted it into drive.

Stone stood up in the back of the rover, angrily firing into the herd with clip after clip of ammunition. He would curse mightily at every changing of a clip, then scream at the top of his lungs as he emptied the next into the creatures. Rooney left him alone. In his mind, if the sergeant needed to let off a little steam, firing a weapon at the perceived enemy was the best way to do it.

“I wish one of you sons of bitches would just die!” Stone screamed at the diminishing view of the herd. “Just one!”

Before long, they were safe from the oncoming horde, and Stone took a seat, disgusted at not having felled one of the beasts.

**********

Brubaker opened his eyes to find Dr. Trotter leaning over him. He had an oxygen mask over his nose and mouth while she treated the wound on his head. The doctor smiled at him when she noticed he was awake.

“Hello, captain,” she said, softly. “Welcome back.”

“Doctor?” He said, his voice raspy and confused. The last thought he had was that he would wake up dead. It was a surprise to see Trotter. “What happened?” He asked, and then coughed for several seconds before she could answer.

“To you? A lot,” Trotter chuckled. “It’s a good thing our security guys found Fisk when they did. A few more minutes and you would have been history.”

“How did they find me?” He questioned between coughs. “The grass was so tall.”

“Fisk gave them the position indicator,” Trotter explained. “He entered your location

before he got too far away from you. Rooney picked him up after going to get you.”

“Is Fisk all right?”

“Oh, yes,” she replied. “He’s fine.” A frown came over her face. “You’re another story, captain. Your leg is in bad shape. This isn’t a hospital but I did the best I could. You had a compound fracture of your fibula and tibia. Your knee was dislocated and you tore your ACL, the meniscus and one ligament. I’ve pieced you back together as best I could, but I’m not a surgeon. It’s a good thing I had BOB-1 here. He helped out quite a bit.”

Brubaker could see she was still frowning and looking at him with great concern.

“Give me the rest, doc,” he wheezed.

“It’s your lungs,” Trotter confessed. “They’re badly damaged. From the radiography it looks like they were burned from the inside out. I took the liberty of taking a biopsy. You’ll be interested in what those things did to you.”

“It was the smell, wasn’t it?”

“Yeah,” she said, standing straight. “Rooney and Stone’s bio suits’ environmental alarms went off when they were still a mile away from you. I analyzed the data. The best I can figure is that it’s their pheromones. Your lungs are full of it. All I can give you is oxygen and hope your tissues can recover. But I’m not going to lie to you captain. You won’t ever be a hundred percent. In fact, you may lose more than 75% of your lung capacity.”

“That’s not good,” he said, closing his eyes and coughing.

“No, it’s not,” Trotter said, holding his hand. “But, you’re here now. Among friends. We’ll take care of you the best we can.”

Fisk walked in the sick bay and stood beside Trotter.

“How is he, doc?”

“He’s awake and worried about you,” she said, smiling. “I told him everything.”

Trotter walked away so the men could talk in private.

“Where’s Rooney?” Brubaker asked.

“He and Stone went back to the League ship,” Fisk informed him.

“What about the herd?”

Fisk smiled.

“You’re not going to believe this, captain,” he said. “They stopped at the tree line and dispersed into groups of twenty to forty. They went in every direction. A few have passed by here but didn’t pay us any mind. A couple walked into the defense perimeter and took a good jolt. It was the damndest thing I ever saw. All it did was burn that hairy stuff off their armor.”

“What about the smell?”

“Gone,” Fisk said. “Doctor Trotter thinks it was their sex pheromones. Rooney noticed it looked like a lot of them were mated. Once they reached that tree line they had finished with their mating. At least that’s what Dr. Vickers thinks. She says they must gather together during their mating season and get it all over with at one time. Is there anything I can get for you, captain?”

Brubaker motioned for Fisk to lean closer. He looked over at Trotter who was busy at a desk. Fisk put his ear close to Brubaker’s mask.

“While they’re gone,” he said, referring to Rooney and Stone. “Check their computers and transmission records; especially where it concerns the Bobs.”

Fisk straightened up, glancing over at Trotter. He looked back at Brubaker.

“Sir,” he whispered. “Those men saved your life.”

Brubaker experienced another coughing fit. Fisk waited patiently until he could talk.

“I know that,” he said. “Just do what I say. Tell me what you find.”

“Yes, sir,” Fisk replied. “I’ll get back to you as soon as I can.”

Trotter got up from her desk and walked over to them.

“All right, commander,” she said. “Visitation is over. Doctor’s orders.”

Fisk smiled at Trotter.

“Yes, ma’am,” he obeyed. “Take care of him, doc.”

“That’s what I’m here for,” she replied.

Fisk patted Brubaker on the arm and walked out. Trotter looked at the captain like a mother who had just caught her child’s hand in the cookie jar.

“You’re a damned fool,” she told him.

Brubaker scowled and turned away from her gaze.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“Yes you do,” she accused. “You might want to take some time to see what’s been going on down here before you jump to any conclusions.”

“I don’t jump to conclusions, doctor,” Brubaker glared at her. “I rely on facts.”