Project U.L.F. (29 page)

“Well then, scan ahead seven miles for the
Santa Maria
. If we are in the right place, then she, at least, will be there.”

Unsure how to react to this abrupt about-turn, the younger man reluctantly set up the scan. It was a compromise of sorts, after all, they weren’t going to leave just yet. But scanning for the
Santa Maria
? It only served to show that the man seated alongside him still doubted his ability as navigator. “We’re in the right place,” he muttered insistently under his breath.

When the preliminary results of the scan came in, the co-pilot could barely contain his surprise. His superior caught it in his expression. “What is it?” he asked.

“I don’t understand…this just can’t be.”

“Not there, is it?” the pilot stated rather than asked, an air of smugness in his voice.

“But this
is
the right place. I’m sure of it,” the younger man protested, choosing to ignore the question but answering it all the same with his reply. “There’s no mistake.”

“Let’s check it out, shall we? We’ve got a few minutes to spare. If we find we’re in the wrong location, we can go back, get more power, then come back down again. Now where exactly is the
Santa Maria
?”

“Well,” the navigator said, doubt in his voice. “It should be ten kilometers north of here. Stay on this heading. She’s…she should be…right in front of you.”

The pilot took the skimmer out of its hover and then engaged the drives. They made the short flight in relative silence, the landscape passing swiftly below them in a collage of green, brown, yellow and the occasional spot of blue. Apart from the quiet hum of the drives the only other sound in the cockpit was the co-pilot muttering something about the coordinates being correct.

Abruptly, he sat up. “Slow down,” he said. “We’re close.” The pair exchanged a glance. “You know what I mean,” he added.

They slowed to cruising speed and shortly afterwards passed swiftly over a small clearing. A glimpse revealed a large area of crushed and shattered trees and not far away, two small cabins. As quickly as they came into view they were gone, and the skimmer was once more rushing over treetops. The pilot wrestled with the joystick and brought it around in a tight but perfectly executed turn. He slowed, then stopped, and surveyed the scene in front of him.

Apart from the rocky crag on which the cabins stood, most of the clearing had been made artificially. Something big had landed here, and what concerned him more was that that something had also taken off from here as well. Three black rings scorched indelibly into the ground paid testimony to that. The
Santa Maria
had definitely been here.

“No signs of human life, Sir. Not even faint heat traces. They’ve been gone from here for a long time.”

“Oh, boy,” the pilot said. “They’re not going to like this. They’re not going to like this at all.”

“Who, sir?”

“You don’t want to know,” came the reply, “And if anyone asks, you were never here.”

*
  
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Bobby got heavier with time. At least that’s how it seemed to whoever carried her, so they decided to take stretcher-bearing in shifts. Originally Byron, Chris, Par and Kit had shared the task at Wyatt’s instruction but then Kate had stepped up and demanded she be included in the work, arguing that she could never be recognized as part of the team if Wyatt continually denied her responsibilities. He was looking out for her, of course, but when he tried to point this out she had looked at him as if he had wounded her and told him that while chivalry need not be dead, machoism should be; that he could hold back a vine, a twig, or branch to prevent it swinging back and swatting her in the face and the gesture would be appreciated, but he was not to forget that she was very capable of pushing it aside herself were he not there. The logic was fuzzy and he was not sure he completely understood it, but he could see the point she was making.
Women,
he thought. He was sure they would remain a mystery to him.

Regardless, he found himself warming to her. She had balls, if that was the correct phrase to use, which it probably wasn’t, he thought with a chuckle. She’d probably be mortified should the thought be given voice. If not balls, what then? What was he using the term as a metaphor for? In an instant it came to him. Pride. She was proud. She had a strong sense of who she was and what she was about, and it was an admirable quality. He could see a lot of Bobby in her and that would probably account for the friendship he had seen growing daily between the two women.

So Kate had become a stretcher-bearer and the effort visibly fatigued her, but she took her shifts when the time came and did not complain once. Wyatt, having lost his pack in the lake, always carried one of the stretcher-bearers’ equipment.

The going had been slow and the shift changes made welcome resting stops when they could rub the cramps from their arms and legs and take on some of the little water they had. The trees provided an unbroken cover from the two suns, but while the shade saved them from the heat, it was dark and humid. At times the plant growth had become so thick that Wyatt had been forced to draw his knife and attempt to hack a way through for them and sometimes even this had failed and they had been forced to backtrack and then set off in a different direction. But their perseverance was being rewarded. The forest was visibly thinning now and the ground underfoot becoming more solid. The oppressive humidity was lifting and the cooler air felt refreshing on their faces, but it remained dark beneath the leafy branches. Nightfall was almost upon them.

Byron came up alongside Wyatt. “We’re going to have to find a place to hole up for the night.”

“Yeah, I know.”

“Well, we’d better do it soon. The light’s fading fast and we’re going to need to get a fire going. Once that second sun goes down the temperature is going to plummet.”

“You’re right, as always, my old friend,” Wyatt said to him, and then with a cheeky grin, “But I knew that…okay. Tell the others to keep an eye out for anywhere with a bit of cover and protection. I don’t want to be out in the open.”

Byron nodded and dropped back behind him.

They found their spot by accident. The light had faded rapidly and they had upped their pace in an attempt to cover more ground and seek out more places to camp. Wyatt had had his head down, concentrating on the dark soil beneath them, tracing the path it led with his eyes. So intent was he on it, that his eyes focused just in time to prevent him taking the next step that would have sent him tumbling over a twenty foot overhang. It was almost like half the forest had just subsided for no apparent reason. Byron came up beside him to peer over the edge.

They skirted the overhang and found a place where they could scramble down onto the lower plateau.

“This’ll do,” Wyatt said. “We’re covered pretty much from behind and above. I think it’s the best we’re going to get.” Some of the others nodded, some just dropped their packs in exhaustion. Wyatt could have said anywhere was fine and they would have dropped where they stood. “Okay, let’s gather up some deadwood, branches, bark, dry leaves, anything that will burn. We’ve got to get a fire started.”

“You might not need to,” Chris said. “We could just sit around Bobby.”

Wyatt turned to him. Chris was crouched over her, a palm to her forehead. “How’s she doing, kid?”

“Not good. She’s burning up, as I thought she would.”

“Can you give her something for the fever?”

“I could, but I don’t want to. That’s her way of fighting the infection. But I’ll have to bring it down in a couple of days if it doesn’t happen naturally.”

“What about drugs? Can you treat her for the infection?”

“Well, I can give her what we’ve got. I’ve already given her one batch.” He looked up at Wyatt who towered above them. “I mean…I don’t even understand how the infection could have taken hold. The antibiotics I gave her should have killed off…I mean this is, this is frighteningly quick.” There was a look of exasperation in Chris’ eyes. “I just don’t know what I’m dealing with here.”

Wyatt put a steadying hand on Chris’ shoulder. “I know, kid. I know. We’re not expecting you to be superhuman. We just expect you to do your best for her. That’s all you can do. Nothing more. Nothing less.”

Chris nodded at the wisdom of the words. Wyatt turned away from him, “Now then. How are we doing with that firewood?” he asked.

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The charred log cracked and popped and then broke in two, sending a scatter of red sparks dancing upward into the cold night air and to a swift demise. The fire was now a pile of glowing embers that lacked the energy of its earlier life when wicked flames had licked around the wood and sent fleeting shadows dancing across the faces of the small group. Now the darkness that the flickering light had kept at bay seemed to sense the slow demise of the warmth-giving glow and close in on them like a carrion feeder. Cowardly.

Kate peered out into the blackness and could just make out the slender pale forms of the trees nearest to her. She pulled her blanket closer around her shoulders and shivered, an action that was not solely attributable to the temperature. In the still of the night her mind had wandered and taken her to places just as dark as this real world. Half of the animals that lived out there existed only in her head. She fingered the weapon at her side to remind herself it was there.

They had eaten a sparse meal of crackers and dried fruit after realizing that after all their foresight of emptying their packs of kit and weaponry to stock up on supplies, most of that food was useless to them. It was dehydrated food, and water was not a commodity they had in excess. Still, what they had salvaged as a meal had satisfied most of them.

They had spent the rest of the evening sitting around the fire, enjoying the warmth and the feeling of safety it offered. They talked about the day’s events, about what a crackpot idea it had been to fly the
Santa Maria
on such low power levels. It seemed funny now. They even joked about the food problem and how stupid that was. They all laughed, even Kit, but inside, they all thanked their Gods that they had made it through the day alive and, if all went well tonight, that they would see another dawn. As exhaustion smothered their humor, one by one they had lain themselves down, made themselves comfortable and let sleep come to claim them from the day.

Kate had requested to take first watch. It was a request that Wyatt had agreed to since it was probably the safest watch. The nocturnes would be at their least active and the fire would burn long enough to keep most things away, or at least out of visible range. As a precaution, Wyatt had posted Byron as the second watchperson with her. They would need two, in any case, to keep a careful eye on the whole area, and who better to have with your least experienced team member than your most experienced team member? Wyatt had fallen asleep almost instantly after they had bedded down. He was happy to accept that between the pair of them Byron and Kate could look after the team adequately; sleep was his main priority. It had been a very long day.

Kate peered over her shoulder at Wyatt. All the lines of concentration and worry that creased his face during the day were now gone. He looked fresh and relaxed in the faint glow of the dying fire. His breaths were deep and slow as he slept.

“Tell me about him,” Kate said quietly.

“Huh?” Byron was surprised more by her voice than by the question. “Who?”

“Wyatt. Tell me about him.”

“Well it’s not really my place to say anything. If you want to know anything, why don’t you ask him?”

“Oh, come on, Byron, give me a break. You know what I mean, and besides, you know him better than anyone.”

“No, I doubt that. There was one who knew him better than me,” Byron said quietly.

“What do you mean? Who?”