The Frihet Rebellion

Captain Sumner of Ameridian studied the jungle surrounding the lake on the monitor in his cabin. All signs of his ship’s landing had disappeared, the jungle growing over the scars, healing them with a rapidity which both fascinated and frightened him.

He had given Sarah the task of researching the animal life they might encounter in that mass of vegetation, having no intention of setting foot in there until he knew what to expect. Now, the communications screen flashed her name. Fast, as always, and no doubt thorough.

The live feed flickered to life, and he felt himself drawn in by her, losing his concentration in her face. Memories of the terrible night she had ended their personal relationship fluttered just beneath his veneer of professionalism. It was a night, and a deep-felt pain, he would always remember. But he could now allow it to alter the all-important professional nature of their current positions. He was her captain and, as such, he forced himself to concentrate on the words, not the speaker.

“Captain,” she said. “I have my report.”

Sometimes he wondered if she felt anything stirring within when they spoke. If so, she never showed it.

“Continue.” His voice was deliberately flat, devoid of emotion.

“Areas of jungle, such as the one near us, cover most of the southern hemisphere of Frihet, largely on islands such as ours. Animal species have mostly remained within their own naturally defined areas, although a few have strayed or cross-bred. What I’ve concentrated on is those that present a danger to us, should we explore our current surroundings.”

“Give me the headlines,” said Sumner, finally finding the subject matter of more interest than the speaker.

“On the island around us at present,” continued Davison, “there are two dominant predatory lifeforms. The names we have on file for them come from the original Earth colonists and, if I may say, show a lack of imagination typical of that breed.”

“I’ll bear that in mind,” said Sumner, and they both smiled. For a tantalizing moment, Sumner could almost believe there was still some warmth, something beyond shipboard camaraderie, behind her smile. But the moment quickly passed and both were nothing but professional as she continued her report.

“First is the rhinohog. This creature resembles a wild boar, but is, in size, nearer to a rhinoceros. It has four sharp and very tough horns: one on its forehead, one on its back and one on either side. It attacks by spitting venom into its prey’s eyes, causing instant blindness, and then impales them on one of the horns. Studies indicate that either the venom, or the wound caused by the horn, would be enough to kill on their own. Used together, death is all but instantaneous.”

“Sounds charming,” said Sumner, frowning as an image of the creature was displayed in the lower right corner of the screen.

“The second one is just as nice,” said Davison, with a wry smile. “This one they called a vampape. It’s gorilla-like in both appearance and size, and it’s a tree-dweller.”

A picture of the second animal appeared bottom left of the screen, and Sumner winced at the hairy, wrinkled countenance.

“They drop onto their prey from the trees,” said Davison. “The victim is gripped with sharp claws, while the vampape tears open vital arteries with its teeth. A flexible proboscis extends into the wound and sucks up the blood. Death is through shock and blood-loss.”

“Aptly named it would seem,” said Sumner. “Do they prey on each other?”

“Generally, no. They avoid each other. The horn on the rhinohog’s back may have originally evolved as a deterrent to vampapes dropping from above. When they have been seen to fight, the outcome is usually a draw, with both animals dying.”

Sumner repressed a shudder, thinking of these two creatures roaming the jungle not far from where they floated.

“Anything else?”

“There are three varieties of venomous snakes, but the anti-venom we carry can take care of that, should anyone be bitten. The rest of the lifeforms are not considered a threat. Just some monkey-like animals and several species of birds. I can give you the names…”

“No, thank you, Davison,” said Sumner, cutting in. “I’m only interested in the animals that pose a real danger. Give the rest of your data to Basildon. He likes that sort of thing.”

“Yes, sir,” said Davison. “Will that be all?”

Sumner wanted to say no, and invite her to his cabin. He wanted to try and reignite the love they had once both declared to each other. But it would be inappropriate, unprofessional, and potentially disastrous for his career. All she had to do was make an official complaint of harassment.

“Yes,” he said. “That’s all. Thank you.”

“My pleasure, Captain,” said Davison, offering him a quick smile before she blanked the communicator screen.

Sumner pushed thoughts of Sarah from his mind, and considered, instead, what she had told him about the animals in the Frihet jungle. Sooner or later, he and his crew would have to make landfall. They could not just float forever, waiting to be spotted. When they did step into that jungle, he needed strict rules in place, to prevent his crew becoming easy prey for the rhinohogs and vampapes. It was not a place he wanted his people wandering around without plenty of protection and backup.

“It sounds amazing,” said First Officer Basildon, as he received the data from Davison. “Fascinating creatures. We’ve already seen how the jungle can grow so fast in order to heal itself. What must it be like to live in a place like this?”

“They’re dangerous animals,” said Davison, sitting across the bridge from the First Officer. “Interesting, yes, but far too vicious to go wandering off in search of.”

“But the chance to observe such things up close… As far as I know, these animals only exist on Frihet. I’ve not heard of their like anywhere else in the whole Earth Empire. I can’t miss this opportunity.”

“I don’t think the Captain is about to let you go into that jungle,” said Davison, with a smile. It was difficult not to be amused in the face of Basildon’s child-like enthusiasm for his favorite area of study, alien biology. “Just wait until a proper landing party is organized. I’m sure the Captain will have one ready soon.”

“Of course,” said Basildon. “Of course. I’ll wait. As long as a whole group of us stomping around in there doesn’t just frighten the animals away.”

“They don’t strike me as the kind of things to frighten easily,” said Davison. “It’ll be fine. You just have to be patient.”

Basildon nodded, his mind filled with the few images of the creatures he had seen on the data screen, and a lot more of the potential ones, if he could just get into that jungle.

“Ensign Johnson, I’m giving you a direct order!”

First Officer Basildon snarled in the face of the younger officer, who blanched slightly but maintained his stance of attention.

“I understand, sir, but Captain Sumner said…”

“I have spoken to Captain Sumner,” said Basildon, interrupting the Ensign. “And he has given the okay for this mission.”

“Perhaps I should check…”

“Are you calling me a liar, Ensign?”

Basildon’s face was almost crimson with anger, and the Ensign shook his head, rapidly.

“No, sir.”

“In that case, get the dinghy ready and I’ll join you there in a couple of minutes. Now go!”

The young Ensign saluted and hurried off down the corridor. Basildon watched him go and, once he was out of sight, released a heavy sigh of relief. For a moment he thought Johnson was going to insist on checking with the Captain, which would have brought this whole venture to a shuddering stop.

He was disobeying orders, something he had never done in his long career in the Earth Navy. But this was too important. Once the crew of the Ameridian started working inland through the jungle, the local animals, including those unique to Frihet, would be scared off. He would never get a chance to study them. As the ship’s senior representative of the scientific community, it was his duty to learn as much as he could about these animals, to observe them in their natural habitat. He could publish in the science and nature journals, perhaps even get a multi-media deal with the footage he intended to shoot. He would have gone alone but, given the dangerous nature of the animals, he thought it best to take Ensign Johnson along as extra security. He had chosen Johnson because the young man was low in the pecking order and fresh out of the Academy. Easy to pull rank on and scare into following orders.

He just needed to grab a few things and then meet Johnson at the launching deck.

Ten minutes later, Ensign Johnson was waiting for him in the dinghy, a small powered boat with enough room for six men. There were several such boats in the emergency stores, standard issue on all Earth Navy ships, to allow for all terrains the crew might find themselves in. The boat rose and fell on the gentle swell of the lake waters. In the near distance, the edge of the jungle stretched into the sky, a forbidding wall of twisted and intertwined vegetation.

“He’s done what?” Captain Sumner looked in disbelief at the image of Sarah Davison on the screen, for once not distracted by the attraction he felt towards her.

“He’s got an emergency dinghy and made Ensign Johnson take him over to the jungle.”

“It’s not hard to see how he roped Johnson into this,” said Sumner, fighting to stay calm, to control his anger. “The lad would have to follow a direct order from a superior officer. But dammit, I’m Basildon’s superior! I have a right to expect my First Officer to obey my orders. What’s got into him?”

“The animals,” said Davison. “He was so excited hearing about these unique animals over there in the jungle.” She shook her head. “I should have recognized the danger.”

“Don’t beat yourself up over it. Basildon’s the one in the wrong, not you. And not Ensign Johnson either.”

He thought for a moment.

“Okay,” he said finally. “Get two more dinghies out of the stores and put together a landing party of armed security personnel. And make sure there’s room for me too. I’m going after that fool personally.”

The trip over to the jungle took less than thirty minutes, including preparation time on board Ameridian. Sumner used the boat journey to check his weapon was loaded, and to glare at the approaching mass of vegetation as though it, rather than his First Officer, was to blame. The security teams in both dinghies took their lead from the Captain, and were silent and grim faced.

They landed on a narrow strip of grey sand, beaching the boats and gathering about Sumner, awaiting his orders. Heat and humidity lay heavy over the island, a near physical presence weighing on the armed men and women from Ameridian.

“Nobody goes into that place alone,” said Sumner, pointing towards the dark edge of the jungle. “Only in teams of at least two, and remember the briefing before we left. Watch the trees as well as the ground. If you find First Officer Basildon or Ensign Johnson, call it in. If they can walk, get them back here to the boats. If not, wait for me to get there. Now, let’s spread out and head in. Remember, trees as well as ground. Be careful.”

The security teams fanned out, pairing themselves off and walking slowly but steadily towards the jungle. Sumner, blatantly ignoring his own advice, marched forward on his own, his sidearm drawn.

The first team had almost reached the vegetation, when gunfire rang out from within the jungle.

Sumner and his people hit the ground, hard, fearing an attack. But no bullets came their way, no explosions zeroed in on their position. Instead, there was a horrific scream of agony, and the gunfire stopped.

After almost a minute of silence, filled only by haunting echoes of that terrible scream, Sumner got to his feet. He was confident they were in no immediate danger. He could not, however, say the same for Basildon or Johnson. The gunfire and scream, he feared, had come from them.

A sudden crashing broke the silence, the sound of bushes being trampled, branches snapped. The thick vegetation moved, shifting, shaking, and they all, including Sumner, raised their weapons. Sumner had no idea what might come rushing out of that jungle, but he was prepared to shoot to kill, if necessary.

He barely restrained himself from pulling the trigger as a ragged, blood-soaked form stumbled and staggered onto the beach.

Basildon fell face down onto the sand, moaning with pain, sobbing uncontrollably, as Sumner and others reached him.

“What happened?” said Sumner, kneeling alongside the stricken man. “Basildon! What happened? And where’s Ensign Johnson?”

Basildon did not answer, just continued to moan and sob bitterly.

Sumner nodded to two of his security team and they reached down and turned Basildon over onto his back.

A groan went round the men standing on the sand, as seasoned as they were. Basildon’s eyes were gone, the sockets filled with melted tissue and coagulated blood. His face was pockmarked with bloody holes, and narrow furrows had been burnt into his cheeks where the venom had run. Sumner had no doubt that Basildon had faced a rhinohog, and succumbed to its spat venom.

Sumner asked again. “Where’s Ensign Johnson?”

Through sobs of pain and dismay, Basildon finally answered.

“The thing came from nowhere. It got Johnson with the horn on its forehead. Went right through him. I could see it, sticking out from his back!”

“Who fired the shots?” said Sumner, trying not to think of the young Ensign impaled.

“I did. I’m sure I hit it, but it’s a tough bastard. Shook Johnson off the horn, turned and spat at me! It burned. It hurt so much. I can’t see. Do my eyes look okay? I can’t see!”

He collapsed into sobs of mixed pain and self-pity as Sumner stood and turned away.

It saddened Sumner to see a member of his crew in such pain, but he was furious that by disobeying an order, Basildon had caused another’s death. Ensign Johnson had been following the orders of a superior officer. Sumner would lay no blame on him. But the young man had suffered the ultimate penalty for another’s indiscretion. Sympathy and rage battled within him.

“You disobeyed my order,” he said, without turning. “Because of you, another member of my crew has been killed. That makes you guilty of both disobedience and murder in my book. The sentence is clearly stated in the Earth Navy rulebook, as you well know.”

The security team stepped back, away from Basildon’s prone form. Sumner turned to face him once more. His team understood the import of their Captain’s words. None were in disagreement.

“Sorry, Basildon,” said Sumner quietly. “But it’s more merciful than the fate suffered by Ensign Johnson.”

He fired once, the bullet punching through Basildon’s forehead. Skull and brain fragments spattered the sand around Basildon’s head, the blood quickly soaking in, turning the sand a dark reddish-brown.