The Gardens of Nibiru (The Ember War Saga Book 5) (10 page)

The Marines stopped at the edge of a wide stream pouring off a rock edge into a wide lake. Rainbows diffracted off the mist, a colorful contrast to the muddy brown waters below. Hale looked up to the source of the stream that stretched into the clouded tops of the mountain range.

Standish and Orozco had scouted ahead to a small raised earthen berm around the lake. Both looked over the edge, high-power binoculars in hand.

“Clear,” Orozco said.

“Clear, nobody’s out here. Least as far as our mark-one eyeballs and thermals can see,” Standish said.

“Find some concealment and power down cloaks. Turn on your suits’ PV cells so we’re topped off once we get to the objective. We’re not far from the village,” Hale said. “Couple more miles.” He leaned against a boulder and deactivated his cloak.

Egan stopped on the banks, testing his footing where the lake lapped onto a field of flattened rocks.

“Should we test the water? See if it’s drinkable?” Egan asked.

“We’ve got enough water in our suits for the whole mission. Why bother?” Cortaro asked.

“I’m not a big fan of drinking my own pee over and over again. Call me weird if you want to.” Egan looked over the pristine lake. “This is…nice. Idyllic, even. Why aren’t the villagers out here swimming or something? Temperature’s great too.”

“Just get a water sample,” Hale said. “We’re not here to sightsee.”

Egan knelt down and took a small cylinder from his belt. He dipped it in the water and gave it a shake.

“Egan,” Steuben said, his voice stern. “Do not move.” Steuben drew his sword from the sheath on the small of his back and crept toward the edge of the waterfall.

Egan held stock-still.

“Uh…there’s movement under the water,” Egan said.

Hale flipped the power switch on his gauss rifle off
SAFE
and crept toward the ledge.

“No,” Steuben hissed at Hale. “The sound of your weapon will carry for miles out here.”

Something broke the surface of the lake a few yards from Egan, a smooth patch of deep purple the size of a man’s fist.

“Eyeball,” Egan said. “There’s an eyeball in the water and it’s looking at me.”

“If you are speaking then you are moving,” Steuben said. He said something in Karigole. Hale heard the snap of a Ka-Bar knife pop out of a forearm mounting from behind him. Lafayette, his blade glinting in the sunlight, crept toward the edge of the waterfall.

The eyeball Egan claimed he saw slipped beneath the water.

“Think I’m good now.” Egan stood up.

“No! Don’t—” Steuben’s warning was cut off as a giant scaled tentacle shot straight out of the lake and struck at Egan like a coiled snake. The tip opened into rows of serrated teeth and clamped down on Egan’s shoulder. The tentacle yanked Egan off balance and he stutter-stepped into the lake.

Steuben crouched, then sprang into the air. His blade flashed as he descended, slicing through the tentacle just as he landed in knee deep water. Yellow blood fountained into the air from the severed ends. The tentacle sank back into the water, a patch of oily blood staining the surface.

Steuben whirled around to face the lake, his sword held in high guard.

A wide field of bubbles broke against the water. Steuben shoulder-checked Egan off balance and sent him sprawling into the water with a splash. There was an eruption from the lake a tentacle slashed through the air toward where Egan had been standing.

Steuben swung his sword like a bat and cleaved into a tentacle covered in calcified growths. He twisted the blade, gouging flesh and leaving the leading edge of the arm hanging by a narrow strip of skin.

What looked like an albino crocodile head the size of a ground car rose from the water. Smaller tentacles writhed in the air around the eyeless head.

“Hale, your blade!” Lafayette said.

Hale cocked his wrist to the side twice and his Ka-Bar snapped out.

The lake creature’s mouth opened, and an ululation reverberated off the mountainsides.

“Where am I supposed to—”

“Anywhere!” Lafayette grabbed Hale by the carry handle on the top of his armor. Hale had never really appreciated just how strong Lafayette was until the cyborg Karigole launched him into the air. He aimed his blade at the creature just as he slammed into the side of it, which was as solid as a boulder. His slid waist deep into the water.

He felt his blade catch in the creature’s flesh. Yellow blood poured into the water around him, coating his visor as the beast splashed and bucked away from the source of pain. A tentacle slapped at his head and shoulder. Tiny teeth bit at his face plate like a piranha trying to chew through a glass tank.

Hale grabbed the tentacle with his free hand and struggled to keep his hold as it fought his grip.

Lafayette landed on the creature’s back with a heavy thump. He raised his arm with the knife blade and stabbed into its skull.

The creature went limp instantly, like a switch had been flipped. Hale wrenched his blade free and tried to grab the dead thing’s flank. His hand slid over wet scales and he sank deeper into the water.

Marine power armor was many things, but armor designed to survive hard vacuum, artillery shrapnel and direct hits from gauss weapons was anything but buoyant. Hale’s head slipped beneath the water, his hands still fighting for purchase on the creature.

Dark water clouded with yellow blood surrounded him. His fingertips caught against something, arresting his fall. He tried to pull himself up, but whatever he gripped had broken away from the beast.

A hand slapped onto his wrist and Hale found himself hauled out of the water a moment later. Hale laid on top of the beast’s back, Lafayette standing over him.

“Well done, Lieutenant,” Lafayette said. “You distracted it just long enough for me to get a clean strike on its central nervous system.”

Hale got to his feet and looked around. The beast lay in shallow water, dozens of limp tentacles swaying across the surface like seaweed washing ashore.

“What the hell is this?” Hale asked.

“A
krayt,
an animal from the Toth home world. Most alpha predators on that planet have a bundle of nerves at the base of their skull.” Lafayette tapped the back of his head. “Easy kill if you get an opening.”

“Get it off me!” Egan yelled.

The communications specialist sat on the banks, the toothed mouth and a foot of the severed tentacle still attached to his armor. The tentacle jumped around like a live wire.

Yarrow grabbed at the moving end, failing to grasp the slimy flesh.

“Give me a second,” Yarrow said. He finally got a hold of it and earned a squirt of blood against his visor.

“Again, do not move,” Steuben said. He pressed the edge of his sword against the tentacle mouth’s jawline and sliced into the head. He cut it in half with a flick of his wrist. Steuben grabbed the top half and chucked it into the lake, the lower half fell off on its own.

“Is your armor intact?” Yarrow asked. “If that thing’s like the rest of the Toth, then it’s probably poisonous too.”

“Great, poison.” Egan touched the bite marks on his chest plate and deltoid armor, then looked at the screen on his forearm. “Integrity is still good.”

“We should amputate his arm just to be sure,” Steuben said.

“What? No!” Egan backed away from the Karigole, scuttling away on his hands and feet like a crab.

“Ha. Ha. Ha. Earth humor,” Steuben said with a satisfied nod.

Yarrow chuckled.

“Not fucking funny. For the record,” Cortaro said as he walked over and helped Egan to his feet.

“I guess we know why there aren’t any villagers around this lake,” Hale said. “You think this was some overlord’s pet? Anyone going to notice that we killed it?”

“They can’t be tamed and are quite territorial,” Lafayette said. “If there are more around here, its death will be seen as a natural occurrence.”

“More? There are more?” Egan asked.

“Probably. Shall we continue on before we find out for sure?” Lafayette pointed over the berm toward the unseen village.

****

Standish stepped through a patch of ferns slowly, moving faster as a breeze tousled the dark-colored fronds from side to side. The cloak masked him from view, not the effect of his passing through the environment.

A warning icon popped onto his visor—only a few seconds until the cloak failed. He jogged over to a leafy bush next to a drop-off and went prone. He keyed off the cloak and held still, scanning for any movement around him.

A tree next to the bush towered over the fungal towers. The tree was covered in bark, unlike the smooth texture of every other tree he’d seen on Nibiru. He ran his fingertips over the rough bark, then picked up tiny green needles sprinkled around the tree’s base.

“That’s funny,” he said.

“What?” a low voice said almost in his ear.

Standish tossed the needles away and clutched his rifle against his chest.

“Steuben! Is that you?” Standish said in a loud whisper.

The Karigole, who’d been kneeling on the other side of the bush, dropped his cloak.

“What did I tell you about sneaking up on me?” Standish asked.

“What did I tell
you
about losing your situational awareness?”

“Speaking of which,” Standish grabbed a low hanging branch and brandished it at Steuben, “that is a cedar tree.”

“How do you know so much about Nibiru botany?”

“You’re dense, but I still like you. This tree isn’t from Nibiru. It’s from Earth, and this bush,” Standish said, shaking a branch, “will be an oak tree when it gets bigger. Also from Earth. Who gets the ‘situational awareness’ ribbon now, smart guy?”

“Curious, but not as interesting as what’s ahead. Yarrow, you may de-cloak. The area is clear,” Steuben said.

Yarrow appeared in the patch of ferns as his cloak dissipated.

“What’ve you got?” Yarrow asked. “Should we call it back to Hale?”

“I’m not sure what it is…yet. Follow me.” Steuben got to his feet and ran forward in a low crouch.

Standish tried to keep up with the Karigole, but he moved remarkably fast and nimbly for one so large. The number of cedar trees increased, mixed with a few oaks Standish recognized. The smell of sap and moist soil brought back memories of his youth in British Columbia where he’d worked on his grandfather’s cattle ranch. The trees thickened and cast shadows across the landscape until the sun and red-tinged sky were nearly lost above the branches.

If Standish hadn’t known better, he could have sworn he was back on Earth.

“Here.” Steuben stopped next to a tree with a trunk so thick it could have been a hundred years old. A faded sign was bolted to the bark, a square slab of fired clay with a picture of a man and a woman in belted tunics, a red line of pigment slashed across the image.

“I see more signs every few meters,” Steuben said. He clicked his needle sharp teeth together and pressed the palm of his hand against an ear. “Can you hear the noise?”

“Noise?” Yarrow asked.

“Your senses are so blunt I swear you evolved from stones.” Steuben shook his head and removed his helmet. “There is a constant noise that I find most irritating.”

“We can’t hear it.” Standish looked back the way they came. “You think those krayts could pick it up?”

Steuben tapped a clawed fingertip against his helm. “Yes, it falls within their hearing range.”

“We’ve got ourselves a fence line,” Standish said. “The noise keeps the big uglies out.” He pointed to the sign. “That keeps the humans in. Doubt anyone would go any farther knowing those things are out there ready to eat their faces.”

“Do you want to see the chaplain about this whole ‘eating faces’ thing of yours?” Yarrow asked. “You seem preoccupied with it.”