//------------------------------// // Chapter 6 - The Forest Primeval // Story: The Children of Planet Earth // by Chicago Ted //------------------------------// Some time later, Adam woke up, all but naked, in his cot inside TPRU-1. Compared to the rude awakening of the scrubber alarm after falling asleep in the suit, the difference was night and day. Quite literally, too – when he opened the shutter to see outside, he caught the first rosy twinkles of the Rhyslinger dawn. None of the pegasi were up and flying about yet, from what he could tell – and Adam couldn’t resist the temptation to admire the view. He went over to the suitport and stuck his head and arm in, reaching up to the camera. A sharp click! told him that not only was the moment preserved forever, the rest of Zodiac-Altair – and Earth as well – would share in the beauty of the alien landscape. The Strauss’s radio lit up. “This is Zulu-Alfa,” Louis called. “Are you out and about already, Dr. Somerset? You’re a gentille alouette if ever I met one. Over.” “Negative, Commander,” Adam replied through the suit. “I just thought it was a beautiful sunrise and wanted to share the moment.” “Acknowledged, Somerset, merci beaucoup and all that, but please remember what you’re down there for.” Probe, language, landing site, but go on anyway. “I can give you the probe’s coördinates, if you want to get that out of the way first. Over.” Eh, might as well. Adam quickly pulled out a notebook and the map Antir gave to him, pen already in hand. “Awaiting coördinates, over.” “Stand by: forty-nine point four three seven degrees north, and assuming the prime meridian is placed where you are, point one four degrees east. If it’s any help, it should be in the middle of what looks like a forest. Over.” Adam quickly jotted down those coördinates, but getting them onto the map was another challenge. Besides the fact that it showed only the edge of a forest, there was the matter with. . . well, coördinating coördinates. The meridian lines were marked in senary of course, but Adam also realized suddenly that dividing a circle into three hundred sixty degrees may chiefly, if not only, be a Terrestrial phenomenon. How do they divide up circles? What are their degrees? Do they also have minutes, seconds? Decimal seventy-nine may be senary two hundred eleven, even forgetting the remaining .437, but nothing Louis said could really help Adam. I really don’t think Rhysling’s that big. He set the map aside and responded, “Commander, with all due respect, I don’t think that information can help me. I don’t have any maps we generated of the terrain inside the lander, and the only one I do have was made by the Indigenous, and I think it’s safe to assume their divisions are radically different from ours. Please advise, over.” “Latitude is easy to figure out,” Louis continued. “It’s halfway between the poles. Universal enough. If the Indigenous have maps – which they apparently do – then you can attempt to get a good idea of where we lost its signal. Of course, that doesn’t account for any movement made by any fauna, including the Indigenous themselves. Say, there’s an idea – take the coörds, and use them to cross-check and build rapport with the Indigenous. I would suggest heading out with a picture of the probe. Should be printed on the cover of the manual, or so Anton told me. You already know how to use the sterile locker by now, I would imagine, so if it fits, use that to get the manual outside.” There you go, Commander! That’s some lateral thinking! “Bonne chance, professeur. We are counting on you. Zulu-Alfa out.” Now there’s a game plan I can get behind. Adam rolled up the map, then started to think about how he could show a picture of the probe. At first he considered drawing it out on another piece of paper. But I’m not a very good artist, he dismissed. I’m bound to be sloppy. Hold on a second – is that what I think it is? One narrow shelf near the radio had a few wire-bound books. He pulled out the first one, with a yellow cover: Разведывательный Посадочный Модуль Райзлинг (РПМР) Руководство по техническому обслуживанию Turn over for English ↓ Bilingual, just like everything else. Adam flipped the book over, as instructed. And in English? Rhysling Reconnaissance Lander (RPMR) Instructions for Manual Maintenance Русский на обороте ↓ Yes! This is it! Adam flipped it open and skimmed the contents. The laminated pages showed checklists for repairing its various systems, in an effort to combat any possible cryostasis-induced amnesia. Whatever it is, he thought, I’m ready for it. For now, he just needed to unbind one page to show to Antir. He had to unbind the rest of the book, but he was able to isolate it in a moment. With that done, Adam took that and went over to the sterile locker. He opened it, slipped them inside, then closed it and hit the switch. Now, breakfast. What to eat. . . ? A moment later, he got some freeze-dried lasagna and vegetables, and took them over to the galley. The lasagna required 50 mL of hot water for 5-10 minutes, and the vegetables 65 mL of cold water for 10-15 minutes. I’ll check back in ten, then. Meet in the middle. He injected the water in each packet, then went back to the window to watch the sunrise. The rosy glow had come and gone, and the sky took on a peachier tone. And in the town, he could see the denizens waking the place back up. What a beautiful morning indeed. The sterile locker finished its work, but it would be a lot longer before he would be able to eat his reconstituted food. His stomach grumbled all the same, not understanding the lack of haste. How am I going to kill the time? Looking around the lander did nothing to answer that question. And then, over his head, he heard a loud thump – like something had deliberately landed on the roof. Then steps leading away from the center, and a great leap off – and Adam could see that H’ryleeloofa came out to see him. Her hooves hit the scaffolding outside, and she turned around to see him through the window. He waved. She waved back, with the slight hint of a smile. She carried some bags on her sides, and from the right one produced an apple-like item. She took a bite from it – did she come out just to see me? – then gestured to him, as if to offer him one. He shook his head no, then pointed to the galley inside. She shifted her angle, to get a better look inside. All she could have seen were some stainless steel items, and on the counter, two plastic packets with food still rehydrating. She turned back to Adam, eyebrow raised. Adam mimed sucking food from a packet, then a clock ticking forward – because I know they have clocks, that book wouldn’t lie about it. H’ryleeloofa kept eating her fruit, while Adam had to keep waiting for his breakfast. He sighed. This’ll take forever, won’t it? Five minutes had passed, but Adam already had had enough. He walked over to the galley and grabbed the lasagna. Surprisingly, despite its consistency, he found it easy to eat – er, drink, as it were – the pasta. Even though I’m sure the Italians have gone insane about the concept, Adam mused to himself. H’ryleeloofa finished her fruit a moment later, and then she pulled out a canteen to take a swig from it. Probably from that orchard, he thought. Another one came out of her bag, but before she could dive into that one as well, she looked over to him and, seeing him suck his food out of a plastic packet, recoiled in some combination of fear, shock, and/or disgust. Yeah, sorry, it is what it is. She finished her fruit a few moments later, though his vegetables were still rehydrating – though they should be just about ready by now, he realized. She wiped her front hooves clean, then placed the right on the window pane. Learning from Antir, are we? He chuckled, reciprocating the gesture, and a moment later, she took to the skies – her high velocity shook the craft a bit, and she even left behind a rainbow-hued trail. Adam shook his head, and let out a laugh. Of course she always leaves behind a wake like that. He got up to throw out the now-empty packet, and to get started on the vegetables. They hadn’t rehydrated enough for him to drink, but that packet had a tearaway tab in the corner anyway. –––– Adam followed the shortest treaded path to the library-tree, one he managed to reckon in the two minutes it took to sterilize his suit. Surely the Indigenous would have seen the probe descend onto Rhysling, he thought. It’s not every day you see a machine from the sky. And given that Antir lived here in a library, surely she would have heard of such a thing – and anything else about the location. Hopefully it’s not anywhere dangerous. He knocked on the door, and stood there, waiting. The dragon answered a moment later and, when he saw who had come to visit, turned and called out [xõ ɑ̃ˈtiːːɹ .. eˈdem se ɑlɟɑˈmu] Upon hearing this, Antir rushed downstairs so fast she nearly tripped on the steps. She already had a chalkboard and chalk in her telekinetic grip – ready for a new day of discovery, it seems. The dragon gestured him inside, which he obliged, ducking down to avoid denting the doorway – or his helmet. Adam already had the manual’s page tucked under his arm, so he sat down in front of her and showed it to her, tapping the image of the probe that was printed front and center. He didn’t care that he was showing the Russian side – but then, she can’t read either language; all that matters is that she should know what the probe looks like. Antir looked carefully at the image, but Adam soon put the manual away when he realized she was enamored with the Cyrillic printing. He set it down and pulled the map from his pouch. Of course, the probe’s coördinates still didn’t appear on that map, so he had to mime a book opening and closing while pointing at the map. Thankfully, she got the message. In her telekinesis, she grabbed the atlas, and flipped it open to the view of the town. It showed a much greater view of the area, including what he assumed was the entire unabridged forest. He grabbed the manual and pointed at the picture of the probe, then circled the forest with his finger a few times. The reaction he got was not one he expected. She visibly recoiled in fear, almost cartoonishly so – and in her telekinetic grip, she grabbed up the biology book and frantically flipped the pages to somewhere well in the rear of the book, almost touching what he would think to be an index. Adam could swear he saw a few beads of sweat trail down her head. Then, when she found what she was looking for, she turned the book around to show him – there were several engraved illustrations, showing all manner of fantastic beasts. Many of them were either large, carnivorous, or both. And at least some of them seemed to be venomous. Adam reflexively felt a shiver down his spine – and speaking of spines, he noticed how thick the book’s was – meaning there were way more that he should fear. But I can’t let that scare me. It’s very important I reach that probe. If nothing else, this book should give the biologists something to work with. Adam grabbed the chalkboard and chalk from her grip – which she easily relinquished – and jotted down a stick-figure man, an arrow, and several pine trees. Just for good measure, he tapped the trees, then circled the forest. Surely she would know what that means – didn’t I see pine-like trees on my way to Rhysling? But Antir simply grabbed a cloth and erased the arrow. Oh no you don’t, little miss. He grabbed the chalk and redrew the arrow, adding two more above and below to emphasize the importance of his task. Antir looked up at him, and simply sighed in apparent resignation. She grabbed a third book in her telekinesis, one he had never seen before. Flipping it open to the middle, she showed him what was apparently a book of weapons. Ah, so they do practice warfare. I knew it! These things were his best chance at fighting off these dangers – if they proved to be real – but all of them of course were optimized for hoof-based combat, and most of them melee in nature. The only ranged ones were simple bows and arrows, and even those were not very hand-friendly – but these are all still things I can manufacture in the field, or buy from another Indigenous – that is, if they have a concept of money. But realistically, his best bet was to check with Zodiac-Altair. He pressed the radio switch on his suit. “Zulu-Alfa, this is Somerset,” he radioed. “I have good news and bad news. Good news is, the Indigenous know where the probe is.” Probably shouldn’t tell them I’m the one who told them. “Bad news is, the area it’s in is known to be dangerous, and they have strongly cautioned me against entering. Is there something aboard the lander I can take to defend myself? Over.” “This is Zulu-Alfa,” Louis responded. “As a matter of fact, there is.” ·––·– “It should be inside a black-and-yellow case with a handle in the cargo hold, you can’t miss it,” Louis described over the lander’s radio. “Let me know if you still can’t find it. Out.” Black-and-yellow, huh? This had better be good. . . . Adam got up from the desk and searched the cargo. True to his description, there was a black-and-yellow case, much too flat to be a crate by itself. He grabbed it, and opened it up on the desk. I didn’t think I’d need this, but here we are I guess. Nestled in a foam cutout was a large firearm – a matte-black revolver with oversized controls – but then, he figured this was meant to be operated outside, while wearing a suit. There was a looseleaf pamphlet along with it, saying that it was single-action only, out of safety concerns, and that it was a top-break design with an ejecting cylinder, to facilitate easy reloading with thick gloves – like those of the Strauss. Also enclosed was a second cylinder, a white cloth holster, and a box of ammunition – fifty rounds, .357 Magnum. A powerful round by any standard, except perhaps Rhysling’s. I just hope whatever I find can be scared off or killed with this. He opened the box, and removed six rounds. One by one, he filled the second cylinder with them – making sure to press them in, so they wouldn’t fall out. Then he picked up the revolver – my, this is heavy! – and worked a latch on the left side. The revolver swung open, and the cylinder popped out, hitting the desk with a sharp report, but little bouncing. He put the full cylinder in the slot, hinged the break shut, and set the gun down. Another six rounds came out of the box, and went into the other cylinder. The holster had a pocket for a cylinder, so he slipped that in. And with the gun properly holstered, he was almost ready. I’ll need some tools. Gotta be some aboard for sure. He knew that the landers would have a separate maintenance box, which he checked first. Sure enough, he found a packet of “TOOLS – ИНСТРУМЕНТЫ” inside. He popped it open and started counting them up, making sure everything was accounted for. Once he was satisfied with that detail, he started packing up all of them. Never know what you’re gonna need out there. He then got up and inserted both of these into the sterile locker, which he had already sterilized empty ahead of time. Shut, lock, click – and it did its work dutifully. Then he stepped inside his own suit – each action was reflexive, automatic, and before he knew it his back was pressing against the Strauss’s equipment and the timer started from two minutes. Antir had accompanied him to the lander – and he still didn’t know why. This isn’t the way to the forest, he noted, and even she indicated as such. What’s going on here that I don’t know about? A second later, H’ryleeloofa descended from the sky and landed on the scaffolding, right next to him and Antir. You too, huh? What’s next, the other four will show up as well? [ɹiˈɣě ɦɑlɲɑˈmɯ] said H’ryleeloofa. [eˈdem kɑlɑuxɑsilɑsɑˈxɑ ɸɯsɯ̃lekceˈm̥ɯ] Antir replied. [mɯl ʒɤzenelmɹ̩jleˈɹɯ esesɤˈle ɑn keˈɹeʃ ɸɯsɯ̃lekceˈm̥ɯ] H’ryleeloofa’s eyes widened. [ɹiᵑǃɑˈlɑ̌] she shot back. [ɹiˈɣě ɦɤˈme ɦeˈse ɦɑlˈmu ɦeˈdem ɸɯsɯ̃lteˈᵑʘel] [jeˈsik ɑlɲɑˈmɯ] Antir shrugged. [ɹ̩s ʃoʃon̥ɑˈm̥u ɑn eŋbizɯ̃ˈɹɯ ɹiˈɣe ɑlˈmu] H’ryleeloofa sighed, leaning back against the lander, while she and Adam waited for the sterilizers to finish. It won’t be long now, he wanted to tell her – the suit’s timer read :30 – and the sterile locker was already done. They might not have been human, but there was an air of impatience even he could sense. Finally, just as H’ryleeloofa seemed fed up with waiting, the timer hit :00, disappeared, and Adam disconnected from the suitport. Since this was the fourth time he’d gone through this procedure, he had become used to each movement and nuance. He turned and opened the sterile locker, removing the tools and the firearm. The manual could simply be carried under his arm, but the holster needed to be strapped to the suit. A series of metal loops provided easy strapping points, and Adam was able to figure it out without too much trouble. The two equines looked on in curiosity. As Adam was climbing down the ladder, he recalled that the map showed TPRU-1 and the forest being almost on opposite sides of the town. Adam knew he had a long walk ahead of him – but as he looked, seeing Antir teleport herself down to him and H’ryleeloofa hover overhead, he knew he wouldn’t be alone in his walk, or his search. ··–– Definitely not alone for my quest. As he was passing through the town, four ponies had opted to join the band – the same ones he had met the previous local day. Are they important somehow? Nyilidee was in the same bakery, working hard in the kitchen – though, seeing her friends walking with the white golem to parts unknown, decided to slip away from work to join them. Somehow the other ponies working in the bakery were okay with that. Is she an apprentice of some sort? he pondered. But then, her balloons mark wouldn’t make sense for a baking path in life. Unless there’s some sort of connection I’m missing? Almost by reflex, Adam started thinking about various ways to connect baking to party decorations – the party was an obvious one, but was that truly it? Nǂesell was apparently a seamstress – or at least, as close to one as English would allow. Adam thought it strange that she would busy herself with work whose fruits were rarely seen in public. To be sure, they were all beautiful – a good amount of pastel colors, with a lot of fringes and trim, and lavishly inlaid with gemstones. Adam at first balked at the possible cost of these items, but then remembered that the dragon had been eating them almost offhandedly – when they’re this plentiful, you may as well make use of them. I wonder if we’ll run into a crystal mine on our way. But then, he realized as he looked around, this doesn’t look anything like a mining town to me. Seeing these familiar three walking along prompted her to abandon her work, for the time being at least, and join them. Really? I think we’re good with just three and myself, but thanks. As they closed on the outskirts of town, Adam rounded the corner and saw a massive orchard of some sort. Each tree here bore one of those apple-like fruits he saw H’ryleeloofa eat at the lander. Oh, so it’s a bit more like a farming town, he realized. But I haven’t seen many more of these orchards around here. Do they put all their eggs in one basket? So far it’s clearly worked, but it’s no cause for assurance. He started looking around himself, to try to find other tracts of land being tilled for farmwork – and spotted another farm, further beyond the orchard, with what looked like a giant carrot in its roof, suggesting what that grew. Same property? Or a neighbor? Yet somehow, for places of such magnitude, both in size and in importance, he found fewer ponies working on them than he could count on his fingers – on one hand, even. A loud whistle sounded over his head – looking up, he saw H’ryleeloofa take her hoof from her mouth, then motion for one of them to approach. That one turned out to be Nyeledirve, brow and coat sweating from her hard work, looking exhausted as well, but eager all the same to tag along. And right on the doorstep of the forest was a most curious sight to Adam. Here was a hidden-away cottage, surrounded by more animals than he could name off the top of his head – and in the window, he could see Sulforyarnǃa inside. Yeah, it’d make sense for her to be a veterinarian – one specializing in wildlife, to boot. Not someone you meet every day. H’ryleeloofa broke off from the group to knock on the door. It opened up just a crack, probably to make sure some small critter couldn’t make a break. But when she saw Adam standing afar, she opened it up fully, her reticence dissolving without warning. She and H’ryleeloofa engaged in some conversation – he couldn’t discern any words, since the various animal noises drowned them out and the suit further muffled them, but what the rainbow-maned one said apparently startled her. She must have resolved to tag along with the others, because she leaned away from the door to grab her bags – and as she did so, Adam thought he could see her beaver. It darted away before he could get a better look. I guess the forest really is dangerous enough to warrant safety in numbers, he thought. Six Indigenous escorts is nothing to scoff at, plus I’m armed for once – but will it be enough? Once Sulforyarnǃa had joined them, they set off into the forest. The full half-dozen insisted that Adam keep to well-beaten trails, but he knew that his prize did not necessarily lay where other Indigenous had been before. If it had, he surmised, surely they would’ve found and recovered it, and Antir would’ve informed me of such a find. As they penetrated further into the forest, the trees got taller and taller, with ever-wider branches splaying out in such a way that sunlight effectively became a rare commodity here. The time of the day was almost noon, yet it felt like twilight had set on them already. Antir and Nǂesell both lit up their horns, but no telekinesis occurred, nor teleportation – they were using them for simple illumination. You know, it is getting a bit dark for me as well. He reached up to his helmet, and switched on his lights. As the device whined to life, cold harsh white light flooded the road ahead of them, supplementing the gentle glows from Antir’s light-pink light, and Nǂesell’s blue. Eighty-nine percent scrubber capacity remaining. Adam told himself that, if he should reach fifty percent, he would turn around and head straight out of the forest and back to TPRU-1, no questions asked. I wonder if there’s a way to extend the range of this suit. Probably should’ve asked ahead of time. Unless Louis knows its specs and determined it’s safe for me? Eh, probably not – he’s had to check with Anton on some things. And he’s just the ship’s cryogenicist, for Crissake! Well, he is Sov – er, Russian. None of the other six were talking, so he didn’t think he should call ahead. Besides, I don’t know if radio signals can penetrate vegetation this thick. Best we move out of the place before attempting any transmissions. There must have been a river flowing through here, since he could hear the telltale rush of liquid flowing past. Not to mention that the ground started building up a fog – must be cold enough to do that, what with the lack of sunlight here. He flipped up his monitor – outside temperature had dropped to a nice cold ten degrees Celsius. Here, their lights were especially important – not to mention staying close together and not wandering off and ending up a creek. Which, comically enough, was what happened to Adam a moment later. He wasn’t paying attention to the fact that Antir and Nǂesell’s lights had turned right, and he kept walking straight, off the bank and into the drink. His suit was air- and germ-tight, and consequently liquid-tight as well, so the plunge was hardly a problem at all. It was the getting out that was hard for him. The creek – more like a river at this point – was more than seven feet deep, since his head couldn’t breach the surface. Not to mention the strong flow of water made it hard to walk forward, straight across. But eventually, his hands felt pressure on them, as if they found a solid surface. Rock! He was at the other bank. Gripping tightly, he started his climb out of the river. It wasn’t a very long climb, as he breached the river’s surface a moment later – to meet the worried-looking faces of the rest of the band. He waved at them, hoping that they understood that he was unharmed. He felt a telekinetic grip on his waist, and he was pulled from the water and set upright on the ground, water draining out of each nook and cranny outside his suit. Further telekinetic manipulation further removed some soaked plant matter from him – from his boots, between his back and the backpack, and even the top of his helmet. Gee, thanks. After that incident, they started treading back on ahead once again. The path forked ahead, so Antir turned around to face Adam, as if to ask him which way he thought the probe was. Remembering the Commander’s attempt to coördinate its last known location, he indicated left with an open hand, then went that way. None of the other six seemed to object, instead tagging along leftwards as well – I guess there’s nothing particularly special about that place? he wondered. Oh well, no complaint from me. Outside temperatures remained steady at ten Celsius, but the fog only got thicker as they went along. Even so, the chill couldn’t penetrate the suit – not even to relieve his labored sweating. He didn’t feel a trickle of liquid running down, so he was able to rule out both bloodflow and a suit breach. The Strauss may have allowed him to walk without disturbing the biosphere, but it wasn’t capable of miracles. Strange that the Russians would cut heating out of the design, he thought – and the dunk in the river a few moments ago didn’t help matters much either. Is it a space issue? Suddenly, all six of them looked up and behind themselves. Did they all hear something? Turning to see for himself, Adam noted a very flamboyantly-colored avian analogue – feathers in red, orange, and yellow, almost like a flame. Reminds me of the phoenix, Adam thought. Well, no better name than that for it. Phoenix it is! Said phoenix leapt from its perch high in the branches and flew down to Sulfoyarnǃa’s level. It made a few coos that reminded him of a bird of paradise. Then to his surprise, she started talking back to the bird: [ɑ̌ .. ɹiˈsě ɑlɲɑˈmu] Is such a thing really possible? Adam paid attention to the phoenix’s actions. Apparently it understood her perfectly fine – within the moment, it pointed further ahead on the trail with an outstretched wing. Then it took flight, high over the band, disappearing soon into the fog ahead. [suˈsɑ ᵑǁɑᵑʘɑsiˈᵑǃɑ ᵑʘeˈsɤ ɣezeɡɹiˈe] she yelled out – then they all galloped down the road. After a delay to realize what just happened, Adam took off as well. Oh man, my scrubber is going to be the end of me. He glanced down to check his readout – eighty-three percent. Should be good, then. Probably. He thought he was about to get lost in the forest – that he would suffocate and die as a result – but he remembered just how colorful the other ponies were. He simply looked for the bright pink coloring of Nyilidee, Antir’s and Nǂesell’s glows, and of course H’ryleeloofa’s signature mane and tail. But wait, he realized – what if I confuse it for a rainbow in the fog? Better not rely on something that fallible. He saw the tail-end of Nyilidee’s. . . well, tail turn left at another fork, and Adam could only follow behind that. Please don’t lose me, please don’t lose me, he silently pled, desperately trying to keep up with them, but each time he was about to, another turn threw him off-course. He couldn’t tell if he was almost there to the probe or back where he started – Crissake, I hope it’s the former. Suddenly he tripped, and fell on his chest. “Oof!” He tried standing up again, but found he was out of breath and too weak to lift up the suit. “This is Zulu-Alfa,” Louis’s voice came in. God damn it, not now Commander! “Is everything alright down there, Somerset? Over.” Adam worked up the nerve, and the strength, to reply. “This is Somerset,” he said. “I just. . . tripped while running. . . that’s all. Out.” “Somerset,” Louis replied anyway, “why were you running? The power supply isn’t meant to decay this quickly this soon. What’s the emergency, then? Over.” “There’s no emergency.” Adam finally was back on his feet, though the band of Indigenous were long gone. “The Indigenous have been escorting me through the forest, when they started. . . chasing this phoenix-like bird. I was barely able to keep up, and I tripped. Over.” “Lousy lot of escorts they are,” Louis grumbled. “Back in le Commandement maritime, you would’ve been discharged by sundown for a stunt like that. Honestly!” He audibly sighed over the line. “I suppose the best chance of surviving would be to sit in place and wait for the Indigenous to realize that you’ve been left behind. Check your suit – is it breached at all? Over.” Well, I don’t feel any air rushing in. What about out? Adam picked a leaf from a nearby shrub and held it gingerly in front of his suit, moving it around slowly to cover the entire assembly. He figured that, if it started fluttering, there was air rushing out at that spot. The longer he went, the more relaxed he got that biosegregation was still maintained. To be sure, he even covered his legs and boots – no breach there either. He tossed it away, then took a sip from the suit’s water supply. Then, ignoring Louis’s advice, he started down the path again. He figured that they would stay on the trail the whole way through. Might as well stop at the next fork. As he walked along, he noticed the fog get noticeably thicker. Does the river flow through here? It must, if the fog reaches this far. His hearing wasn’t very good with the suit on, and now that he found he couldn’t even trust his sight anymore, he drew the revolver, keeping it pointed down – partly from the weight, partly for safety. So far he hadn’t found a need for it, but that was no reason to calm down. Then in the distance, a cry: [xõː eːˈdeːːːm] – he couldn’t place that voice, other than it was one of the six – they must have realized they were missing him, and now they were out looking for him. Adam briefly considered firing off a shot in response, but that would be wasteful of his precious few munitions, not to mention he didn’t know how far away they were, nor how close, nor in which direction they were, and they might mistake that sound for something else. Please be nearby, he silently pled. He’d call out, but he didn’t know how much the suit’s helmet would muffle his speech. Up ahead, he didn’t find a fork in the path, but he did find a large darkened shape in the fog. He didn’t know what it was, so he kept his revolver up and pointed at it, hammer cocked back. He started approaching it, slowly, silently, steadily, never taking his eyes off of the shape. [xõ eˈdem] he heard ahead of him, in a yell. [mɯl ʃoʃõlɹ̩ˈjɑ mɯl ʃoʃõlɹ̩ˈjɑ mɯl ʃoʃõlɹ̩ˈjɑ] – that kept repeating a few more times. He had no idea what they were saying – was it a warning? An order? He kept his gun pointed forward, in case of the former. No matter what, he would find that probe, and he would get its data back to Zodiac-Altair. Yet as he penetrated the fog with his light and sight, he started noticing a few things. Nearby, for one, he spotted a piece of curved metal, warped and twisted and partially buried in mud. He noticed some white writing on its face – wiping off the mud, he found it read “РПМР-1 – ТЕПЛОВОЙ ЭКРАН 4.” Now we’re getting somewhere, he thought. At last, the dark shape ahead started taking on a more familiar appearance. First various branching, further subdividing into an intelligent design – and when he finally got to the place, there it was, RPMR-1 itself, exactly as described in the manual. And to boot, there was the phoenix, perched atop the probe. Despite its first impression, its feathers didn’t really shimmer like fire. But hey, he surmised, at least it led us to my goal. Clever girl. Now, let me just see about – [xõ ɦeˈdem] a yell sounded. Suddenly Adam was tackled by a large dark shape. Turning on his back, he saw some lupine analogue snarling at him and clawing at his metal suit. Then it disappeared in a blue-and-rainbow blur – H’ryleeloofa had just saved his life. But before he could thank her, he found himself surrounded by more of these lupines. He was barely able to lift up his revolver again before another one pounced on him, then another, then another, and then he was engulfed by these monsters. At first, dark fur completely covered his helmet – then pink bolts of light penetrated his consciousness, as Antir fought them off as well, with H’ryleeloofa further wrestling away any more that were coming in. Then Nyeledirve took her turn – she had a rope attached to her tail, which she tied into a loop – no, that’s a lasso – and after a moment of spinning it up, tossed it over and wrapped it tightly around a bundle of dazed and confused lupines. But perhaps her well intent was misplaced – it only took a moment for the beasts to break free of the rope and swarm the band once again. [xõ sulɸojɑ̃ɹˈn̥ɑ mɯljeˈɣe ɑzɑɹoɣˈβǔ] Antir said – and Sulfoyarnǃa stepped forward to start talking to them, just as she had the phoenix. [ᵑǃɑpɑˈtɑ .. ɹ̩ˈsl̩ ɦɑ̃lsõˈlɑj sulʙ̥ojɑ̃ɹˈǃɑ ɦɑlˈɹu .. piˈse ᵑʘeˈsɤ ɦɹ̩sˈjɑ kɑᵑǂɑʙ̥ˈjɑ] The strangest part was that it seemed to be working – none of them moved to strike her, the lot seemingly entranced by her words, her voice. Slowly, Adam grabbed his revolver, just in case this plan would backfire. But it didn’t – if anything, the lupines all scampered away, whimpering all the while. Was that all a threat display? I should learn that technique sometime. H’ryleeloofa flew over to help him up, which he was grateful for – but when they turned around to look behind them, they realized why the lupines scattered – here was a sight he absolutely did not want to see: a massive carnivorous predator, an ursine analogue, towering over him, the equines, the lupines, and even many of the trees in the forest. Its fur was dark blue, speckled with dots that connected in varying random patterns, almost like constellations. But Adam didn’t have time to admire all of that – not with a maw that bore down on them all. He looked to Nǂesell, seeking advice, but all she could offer in the way of that was a quick bolt in the other direction – meaning he had to run. Now. Now, damn you! He decocked and holstered his revolver, and took off running into the fog as well, following Nǂesell’s direction as best as he could – yet somehow, the ursine did not pursue them, instead staying to try to fend off the other five, who had taken to surrounding the beast and trying to wrangle it as best they could. “Nǂesell!” he called out – which made her stop and look back, to see her friends struggle valiantly. Either she noted their bravery and was assured her success if she joined, or she felt a sense of obligation to do the right thing, because she went rushing back to the place. Adam was not so quick to follow. He, being of another world, needed to maintain that separation – and those claws definitely looked like they could penetrate titanium. Instead, he lingered back, studying the scene, leaving no detail unnoted, seeing what he could use to his advantage and theirs. The longer he searched, the more fruitless it became, the wilder his ideas became to compensate, and the less hopeful the reality of the situation became overall. Then he looked up – and found his solution. On his left, and therefore the ursine’s right, was a cliff, one he hadn’t seen a moment ago. A large dark spot appeared on one section – shining his lights on it revealed a cavern. I could lead it in there, but then how would I keep it in? Simply looking up solved the problem quite elegantly – there was a good-sized pile of boulders overlooking the area, barely held in place by a single point – one that he could shoot out with his revolver. That is, if he was a good enough shot. First things first, he thought – get the bear in the cage – er, cave! This demanded more thought, more planning. Then he remembered how Antir could simply teleport to and from something. He didn’t know how that worked, whether she needed an unobstructed line of sight of her point B or merely a mental image of it, but she could lure the beast into the cave, he’d shoot the boulders down to seal it off, and she could teleport out just in time. The struggle of life and death often provokes quick thinking, he thought. Just to make sure, he made a quick mental calculation, and found that there was a very low chance of those same boulders crushing RPMR-1 in the process. Sounds like a plan to me! “Antir!” he called out, at the top of his lungs while jogging closer. He made a wild gesture of the cave, pointing at it with both arms, trying his hardest to make its presence as blatant as possible. Get it in there! Get it in, you daft horse! “Antir, c’mon!” To his relief, she heard him speak, and saw him gesturing – she looked and saw the cave, connected the dots, and instantly teleported herself deep within. She even sparked her horn to draw its attention further. [mɯl seɤˈxe m̥eˈsɤ ɲ̊upɑɸˈje] she shouted – he thought at first it was to get its attention, but when the others saw what she she was doing and started attacking it on the side opposite, he realized it was actually a command. The combination of metaphorical stick and carrot was enough to move the ursine into the cave, slowly yet surely. Seeing the progress, Adam drew his revolver again, and with all his strength lifted it up to get a bead on the boulders overhead. Too late he realized that he neglected to warn her about the induced avalanche. They’ll have to deal with it when it happens. This is it. Do or die. Once he had the point in his sights, he cocked the hammer back once again, held it straight with all his might, and confidently pulled the trigger. A sound of thunder erupted from the weapon. The recoil made him almost hit himself with the barrel, and the report was loud enough that he would have been rendered deaf with tinnitus, were it not for the Strauss’s thick helmet. Adam waited with baited breath for the avalanche to come. It didn’t. I missed! In all fairness, it was a very small spot to hit. Something tells me I’ve got to get my aim back, and fast – the gunfire got the attention of everyone else in the area, including the Ursine, who was swiftly undoing Antir and company’s hard work. Whatever, better take the next shot now. He aimed up at the spot again, and fired without hesitation. This time, the recoil did make the weapon hit his helmet – but the canopy was hard enough to withstand the strike. That or the top of the barrel is made of rubber. And this shot found its intended mark. A slight crumble overhead evolved into rumbling, louder and louder until the equines, and ursine, realized their fates would be sealed if they did not move. As predicted, Antir teleported herself out of the cave. H’ryleeloofa zipped out in a familiar iridescent blur. Nyilidee and Nyeledirve galloped out at high speed. Unfortunately, Nǂesell and Sulfoyarnǃa were too slow to make it out in time – but fortunately, and to Adam’s surprise, apparently teleportation worked just as well on beings and objects other than the user, and Antir was able to pull them just in time from the brink of death. And the ursine was trapped within the cave, never to bother the band again, its fate otherwise irrelevant. Once Adam holstered his weapon again and got his bearings straight, he was tackled again – this time by a swift pink blur. Nyilidee didn’t say anything, simply holding him close to herself, while Adam laid on his back. It took a [xõ ɲiliˈdi m̥eˈsɤ jɑŋɡĩɹˈβu mɯlɤzˈle] from Antir, along with some prying from her and Nyeledirve to get her to let go. She was reluctant, but she was eventually persuaded. But Adam knew that all of them were grateful for his quick thinking, and straight shot – perhaps except for Sulfoyarnǃa, who seemed to mourn the incident. Caretaker of animals, right. Yeah, sorry girl, but it was either it or the rest of us. Alright, let’s see what’s the dealio here. . . . Adam walked over to RPMR-1, looking for any damage that might have happened between deployment and contact loss. At first, nothing seemed obvious to him – but then, he’d barely looked at the manual for it in the first place. Antir still has it, doesn’t she? “Antir,” he addressed – and once he got her attention, he pointed at her bag, mimed turning pages, then pointed at the probe. She seemed to get the message, and fished out the manual from her bag – but Adam had to snatch it out of her telekinetic grip, as she ended up ‘giving’ it to the probe. Close enough. Carefully, so he wouldn’t rip the pages, he flipped through it, looking for anything visual that he could compare to the probe in situ. There was no mistaking it, this was the probe he was looking for – although clearly it had seen better days. “Zulu-Alfa, this is Somerset,” he opened his next transmission. “I’ve made contact with the probe. I don’t know how accurate your coörds were, but you were right, it was in the forest. What issues should I be looking for, mechanical, software, or otherwise? Over.” Silence intervened. Adam sat down to wait. Surely they’re in the middle of something, he mused, looking up. . . .oh. The trees in this part of the forest were so thick, he realized they were blocking the signals. But then, he pondered, did the Soviets ever build probes that could transmit through trees? Venus, sure. . . . He would have to move the probe out of the woods, preferably without damaging it further – and he had no idea what teleportation could do to digital data integrity. He certainly didn’t want to chance it. So he set the book on the probe, then signed his intentions to Antir – pointing at the probe, motioning picking up an object with both hands, then finger-walking on his arm, then he was about to point outside of the forest when he realized that he had no idea where he was, much less how to sign it. Luckily, the cliff was right next to a clearing, so thinking quickly, he pointed at an empty patch of ground next to it, clear of any overhead branching. Let’s hope stone doesn’t have a deleterious effect as well. . . . And in a show of good faith, he even picked up one end of the probe – or at least tried to. It turned out RPMR-1 was a lot heavier than he anticipated. Antir rolled her eyes, and lit up her horn. By now, Adam had learned to recognize the beginning signs of a teleport function, so he quickly put a hand up, shaking his head violently side-to-side. She looked at him, rather confused by his gesturing. Keeping her horn lit, she used her telekinetic grip to grab each of the probe’s four legs and lift it up. There was a considerable amount of strain on her face, but she didn’t complain. Slowly, steadily, she lifted the probe up, then carried it over to the sunlit spot by the cliff. She set it down just as gently as she picked it up. Adam sighed in relief. Okay, that was close. Data should still be intact. Let me see about – oh, what’s this now? On the ground behind him was a part that had broken off – a large blocky part, with various connectors projecting off one side. A stubby arm terminated in a bundle of now-frayed cables – which corresponded to a similar bundle on the side of the probe. As Adam searched his memory, he realized what part had been detached – the chemical battery, the one component that provided electrical power for the probe. Thankfully this wasn’t one of those parts that was inherently dangerous to handle – just don’t complete the circuit too early, he recalled. Adam sat down by the frayed cables on the probe, deep in thought about how he could MacGyver a solution with what he had lying around. Crissake, it’s just one disaster after another. When will this nightmare stop? Antir noticed Adam looking at the frayed cables, and decided she had to help him. As he watched, her telekinesis seized the battery in his grip. He looked up, saw some sort of intent in her eyes, but pulled back on the arm. Thank you, but I think I’d better handle this. But Antir’s horn-light did not go out. She concentrated instead on the frayed end of the cables still attached to the probe, before she disconnected them in one fell swoop. She held them up to him, then hovered them over to the other frayed ends. Gonna put this back together, are you? He shook his head. Uh-uh. Gotta let me have this one. But I’ll have those, now that you removed them. He opened one pouch and tapped it. She eventually obeyed, with some measure of reluctance, depositing them within. Her horn was still lit. Suddenly a bolt of violet energy shot forth from it. Reflexively, Adam stepped aside to avoid being hit by it. Thankfully, she didn’t seem to be aiming for him – rather, she was aiming for the power sockets on the probe itself. Antir, I swear to God, if you just broke that probe for good. . . ! But she didn’t, apparently. The sockets appeared to be perfectly intact, even as they were bathed in the alien light. She kept the beam concentrated on it, not daring to break it. He stood, watching, pondering what she could be doing. And then, more fantastically still, RPMR-1 roared back to life. As Adam watched in pure awe, the antenna dish started rotating around, trying to recalibrate itself and get a lock on either Zodiac-Altair or one of the relay satellites. Come on, come on! Don’t let me down! The other equines could only stand and watch as well. Then the dish started rotating – and the tape recorder started whirring, reading data and transmitting it back to the colony ship. Thank God, it’s safe now. Then he heard some grunting from his left. Turning, he saw Nǂesell on the verge of collapse, gripping the side of her head in apparent pain. None of the others seemed to be ill – but when he checked Antir, he saw a similar look of faintness on her face. So however their horns work, apparently high-energy radio signals interfere with it. I’ll have to be more considerate, then. But it can’t hurt for me to transmit, can it? Adam waited until the tape recorder stopped its playback, another moment to make sure the airways were clear, then opened transmission. “Zulu-Alfa, this is Somerset. RPMR-1 has been recovered, and data has been transmitted. Please confirm, over.” –··– “Zulu-Alfa, this is Somerset. RPMR-1 has been recovered, and data has been transmitted. Please confirm, over.” Commander Darcy wasn’t in the bridge when this came in, but Anton, who was observing Rhysling, overheard the transmission. He had turned his head to the terminal when he heard Somerset speak his name – and at “data has been transmitted,” reflexively pumped both fists past his head. “Ura!” he yelled out. “Kakoj čudesnyj den'!” His eyes glazed over the screen as the transmission poured in and was decompressed in real time. In his excitement, he shoved himself off the wall and bounded over to the bridge’s exit. “Commander!” he yelled. “Somerset, he has done it! He has found RPMR-1, he has transmitted the lost data! Yes, he has done this! Come and see at once!” “Quoi!? Now!?” Darcy’s voice echoed from out of Zodiac. “If he’s pulling a fast one, I’ll court-martial him myself, mark my words!” A moment later, he pushed himself off and into Altair, then twisted ‘upwards’ and climbed into the bridge. “Voyons voir. . . .” He swung himself in front of the terminal – and his jaw dropped – well, fell away – when he saw that Anton was entirely correct. “Did he say anything about it?” “He asked only that we confirm – ” “Right!” He grabbed the radio. “This is Zulu-Alfa. Transmission received, zero data loss – I have to ask, how did you do this miracle? Over.” Dr. Somerset’s response came within the minute. “It turned out the battery got disconnected. By what, I can’t say, but it was strong enough to fray the wires. Thankfully one of the Indigenous was able to provide a temporary charge. It only lasted a few minutes, but apparently according to you guys it was long enough to get everything from the surface. Repairing and reättaching it will be pretty tricky, but I’ll certainly try.” “Any danger posed to the environment?” he interrupted. “Over.” “Negative. Anything else you needed from it? Over.” “Do just that,” the commander ordered. “We can’t be relying on the Indigenous to do our bidding, no matter how magical they may seem. When you’re not busy with that, concentrate on the language. Zulu-Alfa out.” He breathed out a great sigh of relief as he set the radio down. “So, what’s this data about? . . .” Darcy squinted to read the monitor, but unfortunately, he was not trained in biology, nor any related discipline. He sighed again, this time in frustration. “C’est du chinois,” he muttered to himself – then aloud, “Anton, can you get an expert in here?” “I will, what is the expression, do you one better,” Anton replied. “I have a biologist thawing out in cryo right now, to help analyze.” “That soon?” He nodded. “Good, thank you.” Anton pushed off the walls out the bridge and headed to Zodiac. Then he took a hard upturn into Rack A – aiming for A6, to be exact. Once he found the right capsule, he saw how his work had paid off. The thawing procedure gradually warmed up the body over six hours – not too quickly, lest the blood’s albumin congeal. Anton finally saw normal reviving brain activity. Motor controls had been gradually restored – rapid eye movement, appendicular muscle twitching, heartbeat, respiration, oxygenation. Once the vitals were stable, he started draining the buffer fluid – and once the barrier was dry and empty, the capsule slid open. There laid a woman, rubbing her eyes, still trying to wake up. Her international-orange jumpsuit bore the mission patch, her name, “E. WEISS – Е. ВАЙС,” and a red square patch with a white plus sign, betraying a Swiss origin. “Ach, was isch das für en Schmerz?” she asked herself – then, seeing Anton, “What is happening?” “Dr. Weiss?” he asked her. “Can you hear me?” “Ja.” She nodded stiffly. “Yes, I can.” “You are wanted on the bridge. Follow me.”