Alien Jungle (12 page)

She could see the creature clearly. Stringy moss covered its body. Yellow vines pulsed like veins. A black fan-like shape formed a frill along the side of its head.

It’s her. It’s the woman on the screen.

<<>>

T
race ran with his father toward a mossy knoll. From the jungle around them came the howls of the creatures. Reeds rustled and clicked as if sounding an alarm.

He slung the gun over his shoulder and held out the resonator. “This is it. The Lander. It has to be.”

“I’m sorry, son.”

Trace tore at the overgrowth, searching for the hatch. “Help me, Dad!”

“This isn’t the way I planned to die.”

Movement caught Trace’s eye. Several moss men stepped from the trees. He raised his flamethrower, hoping the threat would be enough. He was low on gellasene.

He shouted at his father, “Can you open this thing or not?”

His tone seemed to snap Aldus from his fugue.

With a scowl, he snapped, “Over here.”

He sidestepped around the craft with his hands upon the moss. At last, he revealed a control pad. He entered the passcode, and a light blinked. The airlock cycled.

“Hurry. Hurry,” Trace said.

Aldus glanced over his shoulder. “Too late.”

The hatch opened. Trace leaped inside and pulled his father behind him.

T
race and Aldus pushed through the inner door and into the Lander’s command center. The cabin was circular with belted reclining chairs along the perimeter and a control hub in the center. Overhead, a bank of windows girded the ship. Purple shades of dusk filtered through the outside growth.

Trace took a calming breath. “Well, we made it.”

“Cole isn’t here.” Aldus’ voice cracked. “Where else could he have gone?”

Trace watched him, stunned. He’d never seen his father look so dejected. “Come on, Dad. Let’s sit down.”

He ushered him to a chair. Why had he given Wilde his belt without first removing the equipment? He didn’t even have a canteen of water. He sat beside his father and set the flamethrower down.

After a moment, he said, “So, this is the Lander. Nice ship.”

Aldus nodded absently.

“Tell me something.” He leaned on his knees. “Why did you park so far from camp?”

“Huh?”

“Just seems like a mistake, is all.”

“Not a mistake. I don’t make mistakes.”

“I don’t know. That was an awfully long walk.”

“We irradiated the valley to clear the growth,” Aldus said as if remembering, “and it played havoc with our sensors. This was as close as we could get.”

“So the transport ship dropped everything all the way out here? On your homing signal?”

“Yes.” His father glared, his voice stronger.

“How did you move the prefabs, the larger equipment?”

“Like I said, there was a road. Now, let me ask you something. Did you take this job just so you could prove to your old man that you’re the alpha dog now?”

“No. I was sent on this mission to save you.”

“I didn’t need saving. I needed weapons.”

“The President of the Federation saw it differently.”

His father snickered. “Jules is involved in this?”

A sudden hammering came from the door. They both jumped.

Aldus gave a short laugh. “They can’t get in. They don’t know the code.”

Trace returned the chuckle. He pictured a massive creature primly keying in the passcode. Then his jaw dropped and his stomach twisted. He looked toward the airlock as it began to cycle open.

<<>>

I
mpani crouched on the floor beside Anselmi. “It
is
her. Look at the growth, the frill at her neck. Do you realize what this means? The missing colonists. The original scientists. They’re the moss creatures.”

The plant woman moved as if scanning the room. Impani had the impression that she was locating them by body heat. What if she attacked? How could they defend themselves without harming her?

Time to take a chance
. Impani rose to her feet. “It’s all right, ma’am. We’re Colonial Scouts, here to help you.”

The woman gave a startled hiss then bolted out the door.

“Don’t let her get away!” Impani cried.

Anselmi snagged her arm and pulled her back. “She’s not going anywhere.”

Impani stared at him.

“She never left the dome,” he said. “That’s why the lock was still intact. Perhaps a scrap of humanity remains.”

The child’s photograph. Was that the tether that kept the woman indoors for ten years? The need to be near her family?

She helped Anselmi up. “Are you hurt?”

He winced, one hand to his head. “Voices.”

“She tried to speak to you?”

“Not her. The plants covering her. All of them. At once.”

Impani gasped with sudden insight. “You’re the one, the champion who will save us. You’re our only hope to communicate.”

<<>>

T
race froze, one hand outstretched, eyes wide in terror. “Move away from the hatch, Dad.”

“But it’s Cole. It has to be. Only Cole and I know the code to the airlock.”

Moldy green fingers curled around the edge of the inner door.

With a flying tackle, Trace knocked Aldus to the floor. His father wheezed. As if in slow motion, the door opened. A moss man stood in the airlock.

Trace scrambled to his feet and ran headlong into the door. He struck with such force the creature flew backward. He braced his feet, boots sliding, trying to push the door shut as the moss man shoved and pounded to get in. He glanced at his father who sat as if dazed, glanced at his flamethrower across the room where he’d left it.

A hinge snapped, and the door twisted inward. Trace ducked from a swipe of a moldy arm. At a silent count of three, he leaped backward and simultaneously turned on the resonator.

The monster recoiled and hissed. At first, Trace feared the sonic waves were no longer strong enough to repel the thing. But it retreated. The airlock was clear.

Trace stared at the ruined hatch then down at the resonator. He looked at his father and in a small voice said, “The power’s nearly gone.”

<<>>

I
mpani and Anselmi followed the plant woman’s mossy footprints to the room with the ping-pong table. The woman stood motionless beneath the glowing ceiling panels. Recharging. The plants upon her had lived a long time without light.

She nudged Anselmi. “Go on. Do your telepathy thing.”

“What should I tell them? That we come in peace? We mean no harm?”

Impani doubted the plants would believe their sincerity. Not after everything that had happened. “Tell them we regret the violence between us.”

He nodded then crept forward. Impani followed. She strained her ears as if she might hear their mental discourse.

“Are they talking to you?” she whispered.

“I can’t stop them from talking. That’s the problem.” Anselmi frowned, head inclined. “Each plant is sentient, aware of itself—and of us. They accuse us of murder.”

“But we didn’t know they were sentient. Can’t you explain?”

“It’s no good. I can’t get through the noise.” He gazed at the woman. “I need to touch her.”

Impani nearly choked. “You can’t! It’s too big a risk.”

“Look who’s lecturing me about risks.”

The woman turned as if hearing them. Her eyeless face seemed impassive. She waited for an answer, Impani realized. She knew what they were saying.

Anselmi frowned. “I understand this may be ill-advised, but I don’t know what else to do. We can’t bypass this chance. Physically touching her will help me focus on one voice at a time.”

Impani was awed by the enormity of what he was proposing.
Who’s the hero now?

“Listen,” he whispered, “if the plants take me over—”

“I know. You want me to kill you.”

“No. It’s obvious they have the ability to reanimate dead tissue. If they take over my body, run. Just leave me here and get out.”

Pulling off his gloves, he approached the motionless woman.

<<>>

B
iting hard against fear, Trace wrenched open the mangled inner door and faced the airlock. When nothing leaped out at him, he stepped through and gazed outside.

Night thickened the air, and mist laced the darkness. Black mushroom caps scalloped the sky. He imagined hordes of moss creatures surrounding the ship—led by one who knew him all too well.

How long before Cole ordered the attack?

The idea of his friend and mentor smothered beneath a mass of mold sickened Trace. Why hadn’t he recognized that the number of creatures the weather satellite had picked up was the exact number of missing colonists plus the scientists from ten years ago? At least it explained why the original Scouts hadn’t reported life forms. There hadn’t been any plant beings until the scientists succumbed.

The planet had colonized the colonists.

But why? Was it possible to negotiate? Trace pushed the questions to the back of his mind. He would learn the answers firsthand if he allowed the moss men to overrun the Lander.

He pulled the hatch shut and hurried from the airlock. “What kind of sensors does the Lander have?”

Aldus held out his empty hands. “I… I don’t understand. How did those monsters get the passcode?”

Trace hoisted him up and shook him. “Come on, Dad. You said the ship had sensors when you landed. Are they sonic or microwave?”

Aldus blinked, eyes glistening. With a frustrated shove, Trace released him and moved to the control hub. He tried to make sense of the panels. Here and there, lights flashed on stand-by.

“Power. Power,” he murmured.

“What are you doing?” Aldus said as if waking. “If you’re planning to fly this heap back to camp, I can tell you right now—”

He broke off as light bloomed in the cabin.

Trace nodded. “Power.”

“But not enough.”

“Not for flight, no. But enough for continuous short-range sensors.”

“Creating a creature deterrent.” Aldus gazed at him as if in wonder. “You do come up with some novel ideas.”

“Right. My last idea went up in flame.”

“You can’t blame yourself, son. It was a good plan. It’s just that when you deal with so many people, you can’t control the outcome.”

Trace snorted and didn’t look up.

“Madsen saw the whole thing,” Aldus said. “One of the guards tried to cross the trench without extinguishing her flamethrower. Might’ve been okay. But in the hustle to get across, she got knocked off the bridge.”

Trace closed his eyes. So that’s what happened. “Still, I’m the leader. Everyone blames me.”

“Not
my
crew. How’d they treat you before coming out here? With the respect you deserve, I’ll wager. Just like they don’t blame me for all this.” He gestured as if to encompass the world. “Not to my face, at least.”

Trace turned from the panel. “Well,
I
blame you. You shouldn’t have brought them here.”

“No.” His father slumped as if suddenly older. “I had my eye on the prize. Hell, who wouldn’t? Feed the starving
and
cure a deadly disease? I just lost sight of…” He stumbled to a chair and sank upon it. “I’ve made a lot of mistakes in my lifetime, Trace, but none weigh so heavily as what happened with you and your mother. But you’ve got to understand. She didn’t want me to see her like that. She said she would have me remember her as young and vibrant. She made me promise.”

Trace scoffed. “Sure.”

“Part of me wanted desperately to keep that promise,” Aldus said. “I loved her so much. I couldn’t bear to see her suffer. But part of me wanted to sit at her bedside and touch her face one last time.” He grimaced as if disgusted by a scene playing out in his mind. “But I didn’t. I immersed myself in fundraising, convinced that I did her bidding. And I told myself that you were in good hands.”

“Cole is my friend, but he wasn’t my father.”

“I know.” Aldus looked up. A tear coursed down his cheek. “I’m sorry.”

Trace blew out a breath then sat beside his dad. “You know that was Cole we saw just now.”

“I can’t accept that.”

“You said it yourself. Only you and Cole knew the code.”

“Then, all my missing people…” Aldus shook his head. “What does it mean?”

“I hope it means they’re all still alive. Otherwise, how would it know how to get in?”

<<>>

I
mpani held out her arms, wanting to pull Anselmi back, wanting to stop him. She watched in mounting trepidation as he approached the plant woman then took her moss-covered hands in his own.

For a moment, they didn’t move. Impani inched forward until she could see Anselmi’s face. His eyes were closed, his expression blank as if he were in deep communion. He looked peaceful.

Her muscles uncoiled, and she blew out a breath. It must be working. Her fears were unjust. She took a step back and watched.

Suddenly his eyes flew open. He flinched as if holding something hot. Gasping and writhing, he tried to break free.

The plant woman would not release him. Gray-green moss flowed from her hands onto his.

“Stop!” Impani grabbed Anselmi’s arm and pulled.

His hands were indistinguishable from the woman’s hands. The flowing moss melded them together. Anselmi twisted and thrashed. He threw back his head and screamed.

Impani stared in panic at a leafless tendril growing inside his mask.