Under the Canopy (17 page)

Edlon's scooter had obviously disappeared. I found the spot where he fell to the ground. The grass was trampled down in that place. The broken camera still lay there. Ort followed the trail into the bush.

They didn't drag him very far. His decapitated body lay in the tall grass. When I laid my eyes on it, I didn't feel anything. It looked like something alien and wrong and didn't fully register as a part of this reality. His clothes were torn, equipment gone. The remains of the white shirt were red with blood. The cartoon bird looked at me with one remaining eye. The body was covered in wounds. The cuts had already dried up, and the clotted blood had become a cork. The grass around the body was stomped flat and sprayed with blood.

Ort went up to the body and inspected it, checking the hands. A moment later, he stood up, still looking at our horrible discovery, and said, 'They tortured him. Stunned him, dragged him here, tied his hands. Then they had fun with knives. When they had enough, they chopped off his head.' Ort sighed deeply. 'Watch the forest.'

He slung the rifle over his shoulder and started preparing the corpse. I looked around warily. The forest didn't betray its dwellers, if any were watching.

'Why would they torture him?' My eyes darted over the tops of the bushes, ever paranoid. 'I thought they weren't into this stuff.'

Ort crossed Edlon's hands over his chest, straightened the clothes and picked him up, lifting the body onto his shoulder. 'When you see a god bleed from your own hand, you can never get enough.' He jerked his head. 'Cover me.'

Ort went to his scooter. I was backing up after him, not trusting anything. Ort approached his scooter and dropped the body on the seat. He tied the legs and hands so they wouldn't wriggle in flight.

'We'll store the body in your freezer,' he said. 'They'll pick it up when it's all over.'

I agreed.

We left.

I slammed the freezer door shut and ascended to the crow's nest with a stone on my chest. Ort sat at the computer, eyes downcast, staring blankly at the keyboard.

Neither of us wanted to talk about what happened. As if by ignoring the problem, we would erase it from reality. More likely, we just didn't have the words. I remembered the state I'd left things in with Edlon and felt a lump in my throat.

Ort got up and went to the elevator. 'Now we go to the sawmill. We take Fomas and his boys. Then we make them pay.'

(Howdy, my name is Edlon. You are my new roomie, right?)

'Sounds good.'

We came out on the roof. The sky was already dimming. All the traveling had eaten most of the day away. It felt like we were back in the medieval times. I sat on the scooter and revved up the engine. I couldn't wait to get this all finished. I knew that if I thought about it too much I'd start vindicating R'lok's actions, and that was the wrong thing to do at the moment. A cold-blooded murder must be punished.

The scooter took to the air and slid across the concrete. I lowered my head, and my gaze fell on something black. I looked at it and waved Ort to me. Just beneath the window facing the wild-lands, a black circle was burned into the grass. It was rough work, but something about its simplicity made me cringe. I turned to Ort.

'What is it?'

His face darkened; I could see his eyes sinking deeper into their sockets. 'The Black Sun. For the aliens, it's a symbol of the final days. The time when the gods die and leave the earth to the simple folk.' Ort licked his lips. 'They'll come for you tonight.'

Our scooters rose above the trees and rocketed southeast, to the sawmill. The hostile woods stormed beneath us, as if trying to snatch the puny humans out of the sky. Did I deserve this hate? Did I bring evil with me? My mind screamed YES and NO at the same time, so I shut it off. I must concentrate. The beacon of the sawmill blinked ahead and I focused on it.

Approaching the facility, I heard muffled music coming out of it. It seemed like a mockery of everything that happened. The old bile rose inside of me, and then I remembered. The invitation from Morkan. The last day of winter, the end of the logging season. They were celebrating, oblivious of the horror that lurked miles from them. Fools, but they couldn't have been blamed for it.

I knew what would probably happen next. When we’d arrive at the village, the aliens would start screaming and running for cover. Some would try to attack with spears and arrows and be executed for that. Then R'lok would step forward and try to negotiate a way out or play dumb. He would get on his knees and oil us with his bows and words of praise. Somebody, maybe me, would shoot him right there, with his face pressed into the dirt. I would feel bad after that, but nothing would satisfy me more. When I squeezed the handlebars of my scooter, I already imagined holding the rifle in my hands and pulling the trigger.

Ort shook me out of those macabre thoughts. 'There! Be on the alert.’

The walls were unmanned.

We landed in the yard, close to the exit. There was not a living soul outside. The place looked deserted.

Ort jumped off the scooter and raised his rifle to the chest. 'Follow me. Cover the rear.'

We stood back to back and entered the building in that manner. As we progressed along the corridor to the recreation area, the music got louder and louder. Its sunny dancing motive underlined the eeriness of the situation. There was this pungent stench inside, bittersweet and sour. I saw puddles of spew on the floor, smears on the wall, but no bodies. The puke was smudged, as if they were dragged, and each arrow pointed to our destination.

Ort stopped at the doors of the recreation area. The music was booming now. He leaned to my ear, his beard tickling me. 'Whatever happens next, don't hesitate. Act fast.'

I nodded and aimed forward. Ort did the same and kicked the door open. We rushed inside.

The recreation area had been redecorated for the celebration. There were tinsel decorations stretching along the walls and to the pillars. They looked like rows of trees, so cute. The tables were moved to the walls to clear the dance floor. Well, it was mostly just the name since most of the personnel consisted of men. It's better to call it the chatting floor. A long table with boxes, probably souvenirs, took the far side of the area and a bingo drum stood nearby. Music was pouring off the walls through the loud speakers hanging here and there. There was food on the tables and bottles, a lot of them, all opened. The cutlery was scattered on the floor. Chairs and benches were overturned. Spew smeared every surface. The odor was unbearable, it felt like the insides of a gas chamber. The chatting floor was occupied by the people, and by the look of it, all of them. They lay there in a pile. Facing up and down, dumped like broken toys, with legs and hands sticking out, eyes staring into eternity. Dead. Dead. Dead. All of them.

The music kept booming, pressing on me from the sides. I felt sick. The notion that Ort and I were the only living humans here bounced inside my cranium.

Ort walked to the pile. I followed, suddenly scared to be left alone. The big man approached the nearest corpse and leaned down to it. He put his finger in the open mouth, I saw that it was the nose-wiper, and sniffed it. The wrongness of the whole situation made me shudder.

'They were poisoned,' Ort said. 'I recognize the smell. Herenpot. The blue mushroom. Highly toxic for humans. Vomiting, then asphyxiation, then death. They must have planned it all in advance.'

I stared at the dead bodies of people I hardly knew and would never get to know and remembered how R'lok and I went to the swamp for the medicine. And the headache I had the next day. At that moment, I got the feeling that the one-eyed alien played me from the very beginning…

'Let's get out of here,' I said.

At that moment, a side door opened. Heap walked into the recreation area. He looked the same except for three things: His posture was a bit straighter, he wasn’t wearing a collar with a linguabox, And the most important thing — he had a big fucking machine gun in his hands.

He looked at us. We looked at him. The music changed into a drumbeat. Ort opened fire and at the same time shifted backwards, towing me after him. Heap escaped the bullet and took cover in the doorway. We ran for the exit ourselves. Ort punched the doors open and disappeared behind them. I heard the roar of the machine gun behind me and dropped down, just like in training. Hear a loud sound — drop on the ground.
My drill sergeant had beaten that reflex into me, God bless that man.

I hit the floor, and the door ahead was cut in half by a row of holes. Heap was a pretty good shooter for an old alien drunk. Ort emerged and made two shots behind my back. I crawled forward, propelling myself by one arm and pushing the rifle in the other. Ort grabbed the weapon and pulled me into the corridor.

He jerked me to my feet. 'Now we run,' he said and so we did.

We sprinted to the exit, not even trying to shoot back. The music kept on drumming, there was no way to tell if Heap had reached the doors or not. Well, except for feeling of his bullets ripping your guts out. It didn't happen, and we safely emerged outside.

The courtyard was the same except for the gates that were now open. A dark mass was moving through them, bristling with spears. The army had arrived. We dashed to the scooters.

'Lu-lu-lu-lu-lu-lu!' they shouted as they ran to the last thundergods. I did my best not to look at them.

I ran into my scooter and hit myself on it, caught by the momentum. A spear landed in the earth right before me. I jumped into the saddle and rose up. An arrow hit the front of my mount and splintered into pieces. I looked back.

Heap stood at the entrance and was aiming at me. I was a sitting duck. I shouted out of desperation and swerved the scooter, turning its bottom towards the oncoming bullet storm. It arrived right on time.

A mighty force hit me and shook the whole machine. I remembered how D'lem's spear jerked me out of the saddle, but this time held on fast. The metal screamed, and the engine answered it with a whistle. It was mortally wounded. I looked at Ort who was already approaching me. I stood up on the saddle, holding the handlebars for balance. The scooter started to fall down into the mass of god-killing aliens. I jumped.

My body hit the basket of Ort's scooter, and I couldn't breathe for a moment. The rifle slid off my shoulder and down the arm. I raised the elbow and stopped it there. Looking down, I saw the yard with hateful aliens drop beneath us. My scooter collapsed to the ground, and they started to stab it like an animal. The machine rolled around and roared. Heap fired again, but we were too high, he couldn't aim properly. As the scooter headed for the woods, I saw a great mass of them swarming at the gates. Jesus wept, we are goners, a thought slid through my mind.

'Are you hanging there?' Ort asked me.

'Yeah. Where are you driving?'

'Your cabin.'

'Why?'

'I don't have enough fuel to get to mine. Too much weight. If we survive till morning, we'll call for help. Our only chance.' Though he screamed, he sounded strangely apathetic. Like he was describing an outing in the park.

'Sounds good.' Everything that happened overwhelmed me, and I nervously smiled. There was a boom behind us, the scooter had exploded. I hoped that they got caught in the blast.

The night was falling over the woods.

I pushed the button on my wrist communicator and nothing happened. The garage gate won't open. A scooter with two rangers hung in front of it, surrounded by dark indifferent trees. I was still hanging on the basket, and my body was sore from that. The legs had gone to sleep a while ago. Some bird hooted in the distance, laughing at us.

'Maybe if you come closer,' I said, my voice was strained and raspy.

Ort flew so close to the gate that the front of his scooter nearly touched the grooved metal. I pushed the button again. There was a buzzing, and then the door began to slide up. We passed through the portal the moment it was wide enough for us. Ort even ducked his head to get in. None of us wanted to stay a minute longer in the open.

Ort landed the scooter on the floor. Now it was the only machine in the garage. I managed to lose both of mine. The master ranger at work! When the engine died, I finally dropped the rifle on the floor and threw myself off the basket. I landed near my weapon and lay in that manner, face down and limbs prostrate, waiting for blood to rejuvenate them.

Ort stepped away from the scooter and looked around. He acted like nothing bad was happening, and I envied his ability to do that.

My body was tingling with needles. Weird feeling. At that moment, staring at the floor, I remembered the pile of bodies. Now I perfectly resembled one of them. I felt coldness inside and drummed my fingers on the floor.

'Why are they doing it, Ort?' I said from the floor. 'Do we deserve this?'

Ort looked down at me. 'Doesn't matter. Don't think about it. Concentrate on the moment. If we survive this night, you will have all the time you want for thinking.' He looked me over. 'You okay now?'

I listened to my body. It still tingled, but not so intensely. 'Yeah.'

'Then get up and let's get to work. We should prepare for the attack.' Ort turned to the stairs and went away.

I moved my arms. They felt a bit rubbery, like something alien attached to my body. I crammed both palms under my chest and pushed myself up. Propping myself with the knee, I got up. My head swam from assuming the upright position and then steadied. I looked at the platform going down and remembered myself sitting on it after I lost the rifle. Back when it all started. I turned to the rifle on the floor and picked it up. When I got to my feet, I suddenly felt so tired. I hadn't really eaten that day, with all the traveling. Food.
I thought of puke, and the idea of it drove away hunger.

I walked up the stairs, dragging the rifle behind me. The worst part was still ahead. The siege. It would be a glorious stand, though I wished not the last. They had greater numbers, but we had home court advantage and modern technology on our side. Steel walls, locked doors, guns. We also had two Achilles heels — R'lok and Heap. One was cunning as hell and studied humans, the other could operate a machine gun. I hoped that he was the only one.

So we prepared for the night.

First, we went to the storage. There we took the welding equipment and returned to the garage. We loaded the only scooter into a storage capsule and drove it into the wall where the natives couldn't mess with it. Then we welded the elevator platform shut, sealing off the only way down. We worked fast, but it still took too long. They could have come at any minute. When we finished, we went up one floor. Ort went to the far wall and pulled a steel box out from under the shelves. He gave me a knowing look and opened it. There were traps inside. We also took some nails, twine, and steel rods. Alas, there were no grenades in my house.

We made hedgehogs from the nails, and from the rods, something more interesting: We welded them into spears and set traps on every floor from the garage to the crow's nest. Carefully stepping over the twine tripwires, I littered the stairs with hedgehogs. Once the bottom floors were finished, we returned to the control room. I picked some power bars and water. Collapsing out of exhaustion was the last thing I needed. I dropped the food on the computer. I knew I'd have time for it later.

Ort pointed at the screen. 'Turn off the alarm.' At my questioning look, he said, 'They won't be scared by the noise. We won't be able to hear a damn thing. No use.' I did as I was told.

We went to the roof. The sky grew almost black and fireflies filled the air. An orange light above the elevator lit the area. I looked around and saw no one. We blocked all holes there were, even the ventilation. Who knew what they could do with it. Then we moved a floor down. I sent the elevator to the garage before leaving it.

I looked at the chromium doors and a thought occurred to me. 'Is there an emergency exit to the roof?'

'There is a ladder in the elevator shaft. Forget about it. We can block the shaft and the doors.' He opened a panel under the call button. I didn't even know that it was there. He pulled a lever, and I heard clicks and clanking from the shaft. 'Metal bars will block the passage. At least, for some time.' After that he set the traps around the doors.

We went down to the living room. A barricade made up of the couch and the table faced the stairs. We armed ourselves. Two rifles, a pistol, a flare gun and a shotgun. Not much. We had no idea how many of them there would come. We only knew that there were just two of us. Ort took the machete. I had a more wacky idea. I took the ax from the wall. My weapon of last resort. I put it behind the barricade.

The last thing was the easiest — I went to the engine room and powered down the elevator. Just in case.

It was time to hunker down. We went up to the nest. I turned on the computer and checked the cameras. Silence. If they were there, I couldn't see them. Checked the radio, still harboring a faint hope for help. Only white noise. I touched the panel and began to close the windows. Ort waved me to him. I took my hand off the controls and joined him at the window.

He pointed into the distance. A light was moving among the trees.

The light was coming closer, swerving here and there. I quickly turned off the lights inside. Ort moved a couple of paces back and cocked the bolt on his rifle. I stayed at the window, waiting.

'Make it sure, Ort.' Though I didn't look back, I knew that he nodded.

I couldn't feel amazement anymore. I didn't have the strength for it. I was an empty vessel working on autopilot, no thoughts, only reflexes. It was such a relief. I focused on the moment, like Ort wisely advised. The light came closer, and I saw that my favorite Safunian was clumsily driving the scooter. Intuitive design, my ass.

R'lok approached the cabin and hovered at a distance outside the window, but below it, as if he knew of our intention. Maybe he did. The headlights shone upward, reflecting in the glass. I stood with my arms crossed, staring him down. R'lok had no more subservience or humility. He looked at me with contempt and hate. He wore a security guard helmet and a flak vest. A black circle was painted on his face, and some soot covered his arms. I saw Edlon's rifle behind his back. A new sheriff was in town.

I raised my right hand, clenched it into a fist and threw away from me.
Go away
. The alien only snarled. He made a circle over himself, indicating the building, and pointed to his chest. The he pointed at me and bumped his index finger on the forehead.
Shoot you
. In reply, I chopped air with the hand.
No
. R'lok looked away, then at me again. He cocked his head and gave me a lazy smile, like he was talking to an insolent child. One hand on the handle, he reached with the other for the rifle. The alien raised it in one hand. The butt rested against the shoulder, the barrel pointed at me, his finger on the trigger.
Oh, he'd studied us well.

R'lok aimed at me, although ineptly. I waited, unmoving. He edged his scooter closer to the window. At this distance, even the lousiest shot couldn't miss. All the while, he stared into my eyes, and I held his gaze.

He fired.

The shot was muffled by the glass, which broke and threw its shards at me. I didn't even flinch. The bullet traversed past me and hit the ceiling. I grinned at him and moved slightly back. R'lok snarled and moved up. Come on, I thought, higher. I was a few feet away from the window, arms still crossed. R'lok's head appeared before me, a black dot of the rifle barrel hovering next to it. He was ready to shoot when his only eye flickered to the side. The alien ducked as the bullet shattered the remains of the glass, passing through the space where his head had been a moment ago. He growled and dropped the scooter. The second shot went into darkness.

Ort ran to the window and leaned over the broken glass. The scooter was speeding away, dodging between tree trunks. R'lok turned back and showed us the finger. Ort lowered his rifle, helpless.

'So close.' He dropped his head.

I heard a crash from behind me. I turned to find it was audio coming from the surveillance cameras. I pulled Ort by the elbow. One camera went out. The computer changed to the next. We watched R'lok fly up to it and smash the lens with his metal hatchet. In the moment before the signal cut out, we saw his snarling face. My insides went cold.

We stood and watched as every camera from here to the edge of the sector blinked out. He created a massive blind corridor going right to the house and beyond. He knew the position of each camera. When every feed had only static, I shut off the computer. Ort turned on the interior light and sealed the windows.

Midnight was nearing. We awaited our guests from the woods.

We sat in the nest and listened to the silence. Such serenity beyond those walls. Even the wind wasn't howling. Only the shy rustle of leaves was heard. Ort sat in a chair, hands on his rifle, which lay across his knees. He kept still, patient, wasting no energy on empty movements. I tried to follow his example, but didn't last long and began pacing back and forth. I tried to tread softly, but my steps still echoed around the room. It felt like I was back in the desert, marching. I couldn't stop. Then I remembered about power bars and attacked them. Anything was better than waiting.

I've read that one of the worst things about being on the battlefield was waiting. You sit in your trench with a bunch of unfortunate chaps like you, all waiting for something to happen. Maybe the command would call and order you to attack. Or to retreat. Or to surrender. Or maybe the enemy would attack. Or just drop a bomb on you and kill you all in that hole you were sitting in. You never knew. All you could do was wait for something. And sometimes that something was death.

That’s just how I felt there and then. The power bars took my mind off it, I concentrated on mastication. I offered Ort some, but he refused. Soon I was out of food.

The enemy wasn't coming. We were stuck in limbo, at the crossroads where anything could happen. The walls began to close on me.

'What will you do when it's over?' I asked. My voice sounded inappropriate in the tomblike silence of the crow's nest.

Ort shrugged. 'Didn't really think about it. Most likely, stay here for another year. There is no place for me anywhere else. You?'

I chuckled. 'This will probably be my first and last year here. I thought that I was made for this, but no. Delusions, delusions. Coming here was the most selfish thing I've ever done.' I paused. 'I think I'll leave the army for some people's job. A social worker or something. Maybe get married. Have children.'

Ort nodded. 'That's good. Just don't pester anyone with your puttering or whatever you call it.'

We laughed. The sound seemed alien in the room and died quickly.

'You know,' Ort started. 'We should bury Edlon properly. He was a good man. He shouldn't end up here.'

'Did you know his home world?'

'Yeah, Mexot. The city of Loting. I'll pull some strings to get the body transfer.' He looked into the distance. 'He was estranged with the parents. We should visit them. Tell the story.'

'Who are they?'

He shrugged. 'Some rich people. Don't really know. Edlon never spoke much of them. They might not even know where he is.' As if anticipating my next question, he added, 'Edlon left home years ago. He—’

Ort started suddenly and raised a finger. I opened my mouth to say something, but he hissed at me. We held our breath and listened. A far away knocking, coming from somewhere below.

I jerked the bolt of my rifle. Ort stood and nodded to the stairs. I started to descend when something knocked on the wall next to me. We were dozens of feet above the ground. R'lok. I stopped at the landing.

Another knock, then something hit the window panel in the control room. We tensed. A shot rang out, followed by the sharp sound of ricochet and more silence. I looked at Ort. He pointed upwards and was right. There was a thump followed by footsteps on the roof. Another pair joined them. And another one.

'How much fuel?’ I said, barely moving my lips.

Ort shrugged. 'A lot. Not much. Doesn't matter to us. Go downstairs. Hold your ground as long as you can. I'll stay here.' Ort went to the bench and overturned it. He put it between himself and the elevator. I spared him a last glance and went down. I feared that I saw him for the last time.

The knocking from below repeated and increased. Carefully stepping over the traps and hedgehogs, I moved down the cabin. The rifle moved ahead of me, checking the way, as if they were already inside. I stopped on the last landing before the garage and stood there, searching for an enemy and finding none. The knocking was coming from the sealed platform. They had somehow managed to climb the piling. I couldn't figure out how, and that gave me the creeps. More frequent blows and screeching from outside now. Judging by the sounds, there was a whole team of them. Miners in a pit. I wondered whether the architects had planned for native attacks. They must have.