Survivor (10 page)

She didn't wait long to move, afraid that
the creatures would see her. The chances were good that they could
monitor her heat signal from afar, knowing very well that she was
alive. Either way, she couldn't spend any more time sitting inside
Codon's ship and hoping for the best. If he didn't kill her, her
impatience eventually would.

She lifted her legs up over the doorway. She
held tight with her hands as she hung from the outside of the ship.
It was a long way down, three metres at least. She braced herself
for the drop and let go.

CHAPTER NINE

Her body plummeted through the air. Wind rushed past her
skin, pulling her hair up into a wild spread. Her clothes ruffled
around her and her thick jacket buffeted up around her
ears.

She landed with bent knees and allowed her
body to fall and roll, taking most of the force. There was the
slightest jab of pain through her ankle but when she tested it she
could still walk. There was only a faint twinge each time she
placed weight on the foot, nothing compared to what she could have
faced.

As a stark reminder of what she survived, a
bloody corpse lay next to her right leg. It was one of the soldiers
who had escorted her to Codon's ship the first time. His eyes were
wide and unseeing. Blood seeped out of the sockets and from his
nose and mouth. More blood pooled in his ears and his body was
twisted at odd angles. It looked as though he were a rag-doll which
had been carelessly tossed through the air and let land wherever he
fell.

Nova drew in a deep breath and turned away
from the dead man. She was still here and alive, that's what she
had to focus on. According to Codon she was the only one left who
would do anything to stop the aliens and she didn't have much time.
They were working hard on their ships. How long before they could
fly? One day? An hour? A year?

She shook her head. She could go mad
thinking about the possibilities. She had to focus. There was only
one way she could overcome the alien threat; learn everything she
could about them and use their weaknesses against them.

Easier said than done. She was already
exhausted from her long night walking through the tunnels and
arguing with Codon. Her ribs still ached where Alaina's boot had
connected. She had no idea where to start.

"Observe and gather information," she told
herself. The mantra sent her thoughts back to when she'd first
become a hunter. She'd decided to learn everything she could in a
range of fields, so that she could be the best of them. That
particular line had come from a scientist, bent on teaching the
human colonies about scientific integrity and inquiry. He was a
relic from a bygone era; a dinosaur in the unquestioning,
technologically-stagnant, modern world. He was similar to Codon in
some ways but very different in others.

Nova nodded once and followed her own
advice. She crept forward, shielded by the fallen ships and raised
dirt. Her feet left deep prints in the newly churned soil but there
was nothing she could do about it. She daren't take the time to
cover her tracks.

She moved in as close as she dared; all the
way to the final line of ships. These were all toppled onto their
sides and dented from the shockwave. More bodies were piled all
around, each bleeding, just like the others she'd seen.

She forced past the bodies and looked
instead at the aliens. They were much clearer from here. The bright
moonlight illuminated their metal bodies. They were like giant
robots. Their torsos were segmented, each piece of metal
overlapping the one below. Their legs resembled those of a lizard,
with one too many joints; it was as if they were walking on the
balls of their feet.

The sounds of working echoed across the
desert. Hammers, welders and saws rang through the night air. Metal
scraped on metal and clanged together. Under it all were the alien
voices. Nova cursed her translator for not transforming the words,
investigating would be a lot easier if she knew what they were
saying, what they were planning.

Nova was convinced that the creatures before
her were robots, or at least she did until one of them removed its
head.

The alien lifted a hand to its neck and felt
around. It said something and then lifted the metal casing from its
shoulders to reveal an elongated head underneath. The face was
covered in scales and the back of the head extended up to a bone
crest. Two eyes, the size of Nova's fist, surveyed the landscape.
The nose was barely visible, but the mouth was massive. It wrapped
around the side of the creature's head and was filled with
razor-sharp teeth.

The creature looked down at the helmet and
ran its clawed fingers along the base, where the seal connected it
to the rest of the armour. It yelled a few more orders and tossed
the helmet to the side.

A smaller alien hurried over with a new
helmet and handed it over to the bare-headed creature. The alien
grabbed the new helmet and slammed it down over its head, tapping
the seal as soon as it was in place.

The creatures were covered from head to foot
in smooth metal armour, so perfectly fitted that they could have
been robots. The segments moved in perfect tandem with the limbs
underneath.

Nova had argued with Codon that their basic
body structure was similar to that of a human. It was partially
true, but up-close the differences were striking. Everything about
them seemed sharp, from their claws to their spikey tails. They
moved like shadows, flitting from one place to another. Their alien
speed and lizard-like heads made Nova shiver.

"Anything?" she asked Cal.

"Some of their features match drawings on
file," Cal said, "Other than that, they don't match any species
designation."

Nova sighed. She hadn't expected them to
register, but it would have been nice if they did.

"Which drawings?" she asked.

Cal forwarded a collection of images to
Nova's chip. The device transmitted the images straight to her
visual cortex, and she could see them as if they were right in
front of her.

It was just as she'd suspected. The drawings
Cal had sent were from ancient caves on Old-Earth, from the walls
of the pyramids and other unreachable places.

The drawings showed creatures, much taller
than the humans shown bowing before them. The drawings showed the
creatures standing over humans and their cities. It depicted them
bestowing gifts and killing people. They were gods in the eyes of
the humans and now Nova had a chance to meet them.

The bodies all around her feet said
everything she needed to know. These were not the gift-giving kind.
These creatures were after one thing and one thing only; control of
the universe such as they had once known.

Nova grimaced.

"Observe and gather," she chided
herself.

She blinked the cave drawings away and
focused on the aliens. They worked on the ships and what looked
like massive weapons. Long black barrels attached to hand-held
triggers and cannons the size of cars were being assembled.

The biggest of the aliens yelled commands
and supervised. It was a hive of activity; aliens scurried across
the desert and back down into the tombs, collecting more parts.
They returned with metal plates, spanners and other tools piled
high in their arms. These were delivered in neat piles and then the
creatures scurried off again for another load.

It was as if the aliens had come out of
hibernation with a plan already formed. They were just acting out
the final parts of some kind of rehearsed play. Nova's stomach
churned at thoughts of the finale.

The weapons were a good hint to how the
story would end. Whatever the aliens used to be, they weren't
peace-bringing planet-founders any more. They were destroyers, if
the dead bodies scattered across the planet were anything to go by.
The only thing Nova could do was work out how to stop them before
they repaired their ships and weaponry. Once they were done with
that, there was no way she could stop them, and as far she knew,
neither could anyone else in the human galaxies.

"How were they stopped before?" she asked
herself.

She thought back on every piece of history,
every scrap of research she'd ever done. She ran back over all the
papers she'd read, theorising the existence of the Ancients. In all
of them, one thing was certain. At some point in time, the Ancients
vanished without a trace.

How?

Nova's mind whizzed around in circles. There
must have been some clue left over; some hint as to what happened.
The creatures she saw before her wouldn't lock themselves away, not
without a fight. So, why had they been trapped inside a planet?

She scurried, bent over, between the small
ships. Her steps were silent and her breathing steady. She kept her
eyes on the Ancients; she couldn't afford to miss a single thing.
As she darted between a small green racer and a Confederacy service
vehicle her foot caught on something solid. Her body flew forward
and she fell to the ground. Grains of sand flicked into her eyes
and ground between her teeth.

She snapped her mouth shut to stop a yelp
and glanced back. She'd tripped over a body. The bloodied limbs
were buried, askew, in the sand. She backed away from the corpse
until her back was firmly against the service vehicle. She buried
her feet into the sand, trying to get rid of the feel of the body
against her legs.

Her eyes stung as the tiny crystals of sand
scraped back and forth across her eyeballs. She lifted her hands up
and rubbed furiously. More tears poured out of the corners and down
her cheeks.

Finally, the offending grains scraped free
and fell back to the desert to join the rest.

She remained sitting on the sand. She wasn't
thinking straight and her muscles weren't working properly. There
was no way she could even think about defeating an ancient alien
race at that moment. All of her thoughts were on her grumbling
stomach and tired eyes; she'd go back to Crusader and work out her
next move from there.

She used the ships as cover and ran up the
hill, away from the trees. The sounds of the Ancients carried on
the wind. At the top of the hill she took a deep breath and looked
back.

Metal weapons and ships reflected the light
of the two moons; the little circle of activity was lit up like a
stadium while the rest of the desert was dark and silent.

Nova relished the silence as she moved
across the sand. For the first time since entering the tombs, she
felt alone. Her heartbeat was steady and rhythmic. The cool desert
wind steeled her nerves and let her think. The cold was refreshing,
awakening.

By the time she got to her lander, which
thankfully was able to take off, she felt more rested than she
would have if she'd fallen asleep behind a toppled spaceship.

Crusader's trapdoor slid open and she
stepped into the storage bay. Everything was just as she had left
it. That struck her as odd. After everything she'd seen, the world
should have changed in response. Something should have shifted,
some kind of mark of the massive event. There was nothing. As far
as the universe was concerned, or at least Crusader, nothing had
changed.

Cal hovered by the wall. He had been busy;
the dark stain was gone from his panelling.

"Today has been… interesting," Cal said, as
the door slid shut behind Nova.

"Yes."

The robot's tone was cautious, confused. No
doubt Cal's internal simulation software had not predicted the
return of the Ancients.

"Crusader's engines refuse to take off," Cal
said.

"Crusader, diagnose problem," Nova said.

"Diagnostics show no problem; however I am
still unable to take off."

"It's probably a form of force-field," Cal
said.

"They're trying to keep us here?" Nova
said.

"There is no evidence that they know we
survived. It is probably a safety precaution to prevent survivors
from warning others."

"That's a lot of planning."

"Preparing for possible outcomes," Cal said,
as if he would expect nothing less.

"I need to eat and think about this."

"The usual?"

"Please."

They moved through Crusader, to the dining
pod. Nova pulled the folded bench down from the wall. It locked
into place and she slumped down, resting her elbows on the table
and head in her hands. She stared down at the patterns on the
table, her eyes tracing each tiny bump and groove.

"Chicken and chips," Cal said, when the food
generator dinged its completion.

She watched the robot hover towards her with
a plate held in his thin arm. The pincer at the end clutched a
plate piled high with steaming chips.

Cal placed the plate before her and produced
a knife and fork from one of his many compartments. He handed them
to Nova and then hovered away towards the command pod. The robot
didn't usually fetch Nova's dinner, but just for today, she was
happy to let Cal do it.

She shovelled hunks of spiced chicken and
hot chips into her mouth. The salty taste was heaven on her
deprived tongue. Every mouthful gave her more energy. Strength
returned to her abused muscles and the stress of the day faded
away. Warmth spread from her stomach and encompassed the rest of
her body until finally, she laid down her cutlery and leant back in
her chair.

Nova allowed her eyes to slip closed and her
mind to wander. Her thoughts still raced with what she'd seen. The
writing she'd translated, the massive shockwave, and the strange
species.

First encounters with a new species of
sentient aliens were rare. Very few had occurred in the history of
the human colonies. Nova's stomach churned with both excitement and
terror that she was lucky enough to be here. Her imagination soared
with the possibilities. If she could get to know them, to speak
their language, who knew what secrets and technology they held?