A Planet For Emily

CHAPTER THIRTEEN

The colonists could see little beyond helmet lights on the cruise director and Rods, dialed down to gleams. They could do little but shuffle after one another as chamber followed chamber and the twittering from the mound rose in volume. They whispered to one another as Eve did to Suzanne, choosing that desperate moment to discuss recent events in her sister’s life.

“Who is this Rods person?” she said to Suzanne, “And where is Richard?”

“Richard is back at Earth station waiting for me,” said Suzanne. “He knows I’ve taken a job out here looking for you.”

“Hmm.. so does he know about Rods?”

“Why does he need to know anything about Rods? He’s my boss,” said Suzanne who now wished, momentarily, she had left her sister unfound.

“He’s not bad looking and certainly big enough, and you’re alone with him on voyages.”

“Rods is nothing…” the last statement made in exasperation with her sister came out louder than intended. She was aware that Rods looked back to see what the noise was and she lowered her voice back to a whisper. “I mean he’s been great, but it’s not like that. Now can we please wait to discuss my romantic life until we’re out of deadly danger?”

Eve finally shut up just as the need to whisper obviously came to an end. They had reached the entrance shaft and the hive sounded like a tree full of birds on Earth. Despite that noise only a few of the worker gargoyles – smaller, wingless versions of the flyers – had appeared. Those who tried to attack the column were dispatched, mostly by Rods. One was killed by a spear and another by a knife. The colonists did not stop or even pause.

“There’s a ramp over there,” said Rods, now having to shout to make himself heard over the din. “Follow Igor – keep going.”

The colonists shuffled on. A few looked up but in the dim light they could barely see the walls let alone the main ramps they had to climb, which was just as well. Suzanne, looking up through her goggles, could see how far it was and did not fancy the climb, and she was in good shape.

The colonists clambered up the ramp, built for gargoyles with claws that gripped, not out of condition humans with worn out shoes hampered by the sick and injured. It was slow – too slow.

“Where are we going?” asked one woman who had to be helped up.

“The Max’s shuttle will be at the top,” said Rods. “Max, Con, let’s move the shuttle so the rear ramp is hanging right over the edge but keep it closed up. Ira is to stand by the winch with the prod. This is going to get real busy. Cruise, keep them all closed up.”

At the second ramp Rods thought to hack foot and handholds in the cartilage-like substance that made up the structure and let out a wire from Igor to give the colonists something to hold onto. Suzanne stayed at the ramp to ensure the colonists helped each other up. On Rods’ orders one colonist, larger and in better shape than the others, a Karl, armed with a shield, remained by her side. Karl had found that by bending down while holding the shield and then pushing up and out, he could throw any worker who came at them onto the floor of the hive.

They moved onto the third ramp, too slowly. The flying gargoyles had found then and had to be discouraged with knife and spear thrusts and an occasional shot from Rods.

“You should leave me behind,” John said to Rods. “The pack will lift people up to this shuttle.”

“No one gets left behind,” said Rods sharply. “We can’t send people up with the flyers about.” He stepped back to yell, “everyone keep moving!”

They got up the third ramp, with the rear guard of Hoss and others backing up the steps, lashing out with boots, assault gun butts and knives, their opponents barely visible in the dim light. The workers hissed.

A rumble from ahead made Suzanne look up, to see a dark, moving mass of workers on the walkway, heading straight for the front of the column. Her heart sank. Further ahead, Rods could see that the workers were pouring from what must be a dormitory chamber just ahead. The escapees were going no further. Maybe this was where they all died – but not yet.

“Igor, contact front. Fire!”

“I am in front,” said the robot and fired.

Ja-lar shrieked with alarm. There were loud sounds from the entrance way. The soft creatures had got out and were killing her children – so many that they caused her pain. Their deaths were not important, her pain was. What had caused this disaster? They had been captured easily and caused little trouble since. How could they now cause deaths? She would go out and put this right and the creatures would pay for the insult to her person. But first she had to make sure of the breeding chamber. She hurried forward.

The continuous ripping sound from the machine gun echoed around the chamber, building up into a wall of sound that assaulted Suzanne's ears. The fire from its barrel hurt her eyes. But in the light, she saw the front rank of workers die. The second rank swept over their hive comrades to die on top of them, some tumbling over to fall in front. Yet more workers rushed straight into the fire of Igor’s machine gun, added to the mound.

Rods sensed an opportunity.

“Hoss,” he screamed. “Close up! Close right up, build a wall with their bodies.”

Hoss did not hear the order over the din, but he could see the rushing tide of workers in the flaring light from the machine gun. He and the rear guard – a handful of colonists with weapons were close to panic. Suzanne, who heard over the comms, pushed back to him.

“He wants you to close up,” she screamed, tugging at him. Through her goggles she could see the growing mound of workers at the front and understood what Rods wanted. “Come back and build a wall with their bodies so they can’t get in, like in front.”

The colonists calmed visibly. A plan. They backed away from the workers at the rear, now firing the occasional shot, Hoss barking at them to save ammunition, just as Suzanne heard Rods call “cease fire” to Igor, and the noise stopped. After the roar of the machine gun, the twittering of the hive, mixed with hissing from the workers, seemed almost like silence. Another dense mass surged up from the rear, with more workers swinging down from the walkway above them – there was another dormitory chamber on the upper levels – to join it. Suzanne helped shepherd the colonists into some sort of formation. The injured and her sister with the few medical supplies they had brought were along the wall. Rods pushed the colonists with weapons into a line along the edge of the walkway. Just in time.

“Now,” said Hoss from the rear. “Fire!”

The assault guns barked; the shot guns roared. More workers tried swinging down from the tier above. A few from below. Karl stomped on the hands of one and then pushed another swinging down from below with his shield. It flew backward to land with a distinct thump on the floor below.

“Igor to the rear,” yelled Rods. Contact rear.

“I am now behind,” grumbled the robot as he passed Suzanne.

The battle raged.

Three workers swung down close to Suzanne to engulf one of the colonists. The colonist stabbed one but was bitten hard by the others before Suzanne could react.

“Cruise!” screamed Rods, “Mr. Glock, quick!”

Suzanne took one step towards the fracas, brought up the weapon and shot both remaining creatures at point blank range, the impact of the shot flinging them off the walkway. Eve helped drag the injured colonist to the rear.

“So, is this Mr. Glock yet another man in your life?” she asked.

“This is Mr. Glock,” said Suzanne showing her the pistol, “and we’re just good friends.”

Two guards appeared on the walkway opposite and flung spears that injured a colonist before Igor gunned them down. A group of flyers tried to snatch a woman colonist close to Rods, triggering a sharp fight. The spaceman shot two only to be bitten hard on the arm, the flyer’s sharp teeth tearing through the tough fabric of the trader’s tunic sleeve to cut the flesh underneath. Rods bellowed and thumped the creature’s head with the butt of his pistol. It went limp. He kicked it over the side.

Eve came to look at the wound.

“Nasty!” she said, then ripped the cloth further and dabbed it with disinfectant.

“Ow!”

“Baby!” she said. “There are others worse.”

“Then go and help them. Got one of those small, smart bandages? Put it on and go.”

Rods turned and shot one of the flyers before Eve had finished. She left thinking that Rods was snappy and wondering how her sister had put up with him. A new wave of workers swung in from the walkway above. More clambered up from below. Across the way, the few remaining flyers gathered for a rush. There were too many.

In the breeding chamber, Rob eyed the timer on the explosive charge Rods had left him, cradled in the arms and now useless hands folded across his chest. The agony had been unbearable. He had screamed constantly as he had heard others do, to no avail. Now he hoped for one last thing from life but as he eyed the timing he could hear the gunfire from the entrance chamber. An explosion might be the distraction the colonists needed in the fight for their lives and end his agony. He was tossing up whether to tap the button when he heard the distinctive scrape of the Queen, or whatever it was, coming to inspect him. As many times before the vast grey bulk of the lizard creature stood over him, staring down. Rob registered a snout with a formidable array of white teeth and green eyes that registered alarm at the sight of the strange device.

“There is justice after all,” chortled Rob, clutching the explosives close to him. “Take this you bastard!” He jammed his nose on the red button.

The sudden, rumbling blast shook the galleries, making the colonists stagger. A cloud of dust surged out of the western access tunnel below them. The proto-Zards abruptly stopped attacking and let out a collective, ear-piercing wail, throwing up their arms. “Owwwwww!” Then, as one, they streamed away from the colonists, towards the cloud of dust.

“What was that?” said one colonist.

“That was Rob, ending it,” said Hoss. “Rods left him with explosives.”

“I think he got their queen,” said Rods. “That’s where they’re all going, to try to save their queen.”

“Does that mean we’re out of it?” asked one of the women.

“We’re not out of it until we’re out of here. I dunno what happens when the queen dies, but I don’t think it’s good for strangers in the hive. That means we’ve gotta get moving now.”

The colonists groaned.

“So how do we get out here,” said Karl, looking around. It was a good question. There were enormous mounds of bodies in front and behind them.

“Straight up,” said Rods. Suzanne noticed that he holstered his pistol and was cradling his left arm where he had been bitten. “We’ll climb the body wall in front and go straight up through a hole Igor is about to tear in the roof,” he said. “Igor, walk up, now fire above you just there.” The robot complied, ripped a larger hole and climbed through. “C’mon people start walking through. The first through help the others. The bigger guys can lift the wounded through.”

“The grav pack will only take two wounded,” said one of the colonists.

“You should leave me behind, with an explosive,” said John.

“Will you stop volunteering to die,” snapped Rods. “There’s no need. Max, Con,” he said into his comms unit. Open the shuttle’s back hatch and let out the winch cable we’re going to start reeling in colonists. At least until the flyers come back.”

The colonists roused themselves at this news and start filing out of the hole. All they could hear of the proto-Zards was a distant “Owwwwww!”

“Hoss, I can see the cable,” said Rods. “It’s two levels up directly on the other side. That’s as far as it will go. Get to it, then start taking the wounded from there, with the grav pack attached to the winch. Just grab hold and drag them up. No time for safety protocols. There’s a spare comms unit in Igor’s bag so you can speak to Max and Con on the ship.”

“I should stay with the colonists,” said Hoss.

“I need someone reliable who understands the equipment and we’ll move a lot faster if we start taking up the wounded and then the slower movers by winch. I also want you at the shuttle controls for takeoff, we’ll be real overloaded when we go, with a lot of weight on the back. That needs a pilot. Max, Hoss is cleared to take over the shuttle.”

“Aye,” said Max, over the comms.

“Now people get moving. Hoss, hand your weapon to this guy,” he gestured at Karl.

“Alright!” said Karl.

“Now everyone move! Cruise what are you still doing here? Get through the hole, grab one of the explosive blocks from Igor’s bag and hand it down!”

“Alright, snappy, snappy,’ grumbled Suzanne under her breath, but she went, handing down the explosives with a show of grace before returning to chivvying the colonists along. Some thought that a slow walk was enough.

“C4!” said Karl, on seeing the explosive. He and Rods were the last left at the site of the battle. “I didn’t think anyone used that stuff any more.”

“Call me a traditionalist,” said Rods. “It’s set for ten minutes. Put it on the walkway, pile a couple of worker bodies on it and let’s move.”

“This stuff still has punch?” asked Karl.

“In 10 minutes, this part of town will represent an extensive renovation opportunity.”

For the colonists the escape settled into a long session of shuffling along walkways, clambering up ramps and then more walkways, being urged on by Rods and more politely by Suzanne to keep moving. Somewhere, deep within the hive, came an “Owwwwww!” Hoss started taking up the slower colonists. Eve went up, to look after the injured, giving Mr. Sig Saur back to Suzanne – she had never fired it – and the cruise director put it back in her pocket, there being no need to hand out weapons.

“Don’t lie people on seats,” Rods told Eve. “The shuttle site 12. We have to fit more than 30 in it.”

“Only twelve!” exclaimed a colonist who overheard this.

“If you don’t like the transport you’re welcome to take the next bus!” snapped Rods.

By this time, Rods’ behavior was a cause of concern to Suzanne. He stumbled along, cradling his wounded arm with the other. ‘An infection?’ she thought.

“You should go up with Hoss,” she suggested, gently.

“Go and mother someone else,” he snarled.

“Infection doesn’t improve his mood,” she thought. She told one of the colonists to stay, discreetly with the spaceman, and went back to urging on the others. They moved up another ramp.

Halfway up the next ramp, the distant “Owwwwww” stopped with a deafening shriek,

“What in stars is that,” exclaimed one woman.

“Think it means the queen is dead,” said Rods, lifting his head briefly.

“Does that mean they’ll die too?” asked someone, hopefully.

“No, I think it means they’re coming back, and this time they’ll be upset.”

The colonists sped up.

They heard a distant rumbling, and growing, discordant shriek “eeeeee”, “eeeeee”. A banshee wail.

“Karl, when’s our bang going to happen?” asked Rods, swaying slightly.

Karl glanced at the timer he had set on his watch. “One minute.”

“One minute to a big bang people. Hoss, get under cover.”

“Up at the shuttle,” said Hoss over comms.

“Stay there. Hug the wall people!”

The first explosion had caused the walkways to shake. The second explosion almost knocked Suzanne off her feet. The wall seemed to shift. The floor tilted. Through the goggles, she could see a column of smoke shoot up past her. The screeching stopped. She looked down but could see nothing. Then she looked up and realized the top was in sight. She could see the rear of the shuttle hanging over the edge, with the rear hatch complete with steps hanging down. They could reach it if they got up there!

“Okay, old stuff but still good,” said Karl.

“Cut price lot, worth the money,” said Rods, eyes half closed. He was swaying but kept going.

The wailing started again.

“Eeeeee, eeeeee”

They staggered up another level. They could hear rumbling and screeching lower down. Suzanne glanced over the side and, in the now clearer air, he could see the floor of the hive littered with bodies and bits of the walkways.

“Suzanne, the last block in Igor’s bag. Get it,” snapped Rods. The robot was now with the rear guard. Suzanne got the block for Rods and held it while the spaceman tapped on it.

“There – thirty seconds before it blows. Throw it over the side, quick.”

“Yikes!” yelped Suzanne, realising what she was holding, and threw it away from her. The block fell out of sight. “Fire in the hold!”

“Hug the walls!” yelled Rods.

That explosion was not as bad. It still shook the wall that Suzanne was hugging but it was much lower down. The colonists kept their feet. The wailing stopped.

“So much for the explosives,” Suzanne heard Rods mutter. “They were a good deal. C’mon people. Let’s go. Big effort to finish.”

They moved on, up another level. The wailing started again - “eeeeee”, “eeeeee”. Another level, and Suzanne was aware of a rumbling below them. Rods was allowing himself to be helped along.

“Karl,” he gasped, “in the bag. Grenades. Pill pin! Throw! Three seconds. Try to build a wall at the last ramp. Don’t hang back. No one stays.” Then his head hung down.

“Grenades!” enthused Karl. “More tradition. I like it.”

“Igor, hang back with Karl,” yelled Suzanne, taking charge, somewhat to her surprise. “Hoss, we’re coming, get ready to lift off.”

They were at the last ramp. Rods staggered up, half pushed by Suzanne and another colonist. They were at the top and there was the shuttle with colonists already hanging onto the back ramp. It was full. Then she saw that the cable from the winch was being woven around the struts for the late comers to wrap around themselves. The rumbling increased in intensity.

Whump!

“Yeah baby!” whooped Karl.

“At least the boys are enjoying themselves,” Suzanne sniffed.

A flyer appeared but was blown away by a shotgun. Another whump and a whoop from Karl. Igor’s machine gun chattered briefly. Then they were at the shuttle ramp. The cruise director sat right on the end step, colonists standing on either side and the cable was winched tight around her. Rods, barely conscious, was tight tightly on one side.

“Karl! Igor!” screamed Suzanne. “This cruise is leaving.”

Karl and Igor came running, with a horde of screaming workers and guards behind them. The rumbling had become deafening. The proto-Zards were baring their teeth and – Suzanne had not noticed before – their eyes bulged out seeming to the point of popping.

Igor grabbed hold of one strut, hanging there effortlessly, facing the onrushing horde. Karl jumped for the other and wrapped himself around it, assault gun jammed between himself and the strut.

“Hoss, everyone is on, lift off now! Now!” Suzanne yelled, uncomfortably aware that she was among the closest to the proto-Zards. “Igor fire! Hard! Full burst!”

The robot obliged. The muzzle of the gun flared. The noise deafened Suzanne. She brought up Mr. Glock, without even realizing it and added her own noise to the din. She was aware that Karl had got his assault gun free and was firing on automatic. The shuttle shuddered and whined and then lifted away, at more than double its usual passenger weight, sluggishly. The ramp seemed to pause at the lip as the vertical lift grav engines struggled. Karl’s gun clicked empty, then the roaring of Igor’s machine gun abruptly ceased, to be replaced by a series of clicks. Two more shots from Mr. Glock, then he, too, clicked empty.

The ramp inched away from the entrance lip. Suzanne could almost touch it with her toes.

“Still with us, back there,” asked Hoss, through the comms.

“Yes, just clear. Go! Go!”

The shuttle shuddered and pulled away but then a guard leapt from the mass of bodies jamming the takeoff point and wrapped himself around Suzanne’s legs, opening its mouth to bite.

“Ohhh!” She could feel herself being dragged down by the massive creature.

Karl jammed the butt of his rifle in the creature’s mouth. Igor poked it hard with the muzzle of his gun. The creature was not to be deterred. A colonist above Suzanne tried to grab her. She was slipping. Then she felt Mr. Sig Saur in her pocket and whipped it out.

The creature shook its head, pushing away the weapons being thrust at it, and opened its mouth to bite the cruise director.

“This cruise is full,” said Suzanne, extending her pistol, and shot it three times through the open mouth.

The proto-Zard’s enraged expression turned to surprise. Its grip relaxed and it fell away to hit the mound with a thud. The shuttle surged away. The colonists on the ladder cheered – a cheer taken up by those crammed inside.

“I owe you an apology,” said Rods. The cooler night air had woken him up, and he stared at her bleary eyed.

“Why is that Rods?” said Suzanne, thinking he was going to apologise for barking at her before.

“You and Mr. Sig Saur make a very suitable couple.”