Dark World

by Resha Caner

part 4 of 7

As soon as they left Varus’ cabin, the Captain pined to go back, and regretted his hasty decision to return to the Red Colony as soon as possible. He hated these open spaces that Varus called ‘surface’, and remained unsure how the alien man would find the new tunnels of his Colony. To make matters worse, he showed no intent toward their journey, but was lost in an eccentric muttering about the details of building a hearing telescope.

“So strange,” Varus said to himself. “I never considered that when a telescope captures and focuses light, it might be altering the image and giving me a false picture. This Captain doesn’t trust me. So even if I could do the same with sound, why should he believe me that it truly represents the nature of outer space?”

The Captain stepped close to Penel, leaning down to whisper in her ear. “Why do you trust this Varus?”

“Why would he rescue me if he were not trustworthy?” Penel answered.

“I don’t know. As a prize for the Black Queen?”

“He wouldn’t do that.”

“How do you know?”

“I just know.”

Her confidence reassured the Captain and unsettled him at the same time. She should be listening to him, not the other way round. Yet, without the familiarity of the tunnels, without the strength of Soldiers at his command, the Captain felt lost.

A strange hoot split the air, and he stopped short, tilting his head and ready for danger. The sound came from above, and was underlaid with the soft swish of wings. Were he in the tunnels, he would think a bat had made the sound. But he was not in the tunnels, and the sound was deeper, fuller.

“What was that?”

“Hmm?” Varus broke from his trance. “What was what?”

The Captain recalled the sound, and made an attempt to mimic it. His imitation lacked the proper timbre, yet he hoped Varus would understand him.

“My,” Varus replied. “An excellent imitation of an owl.”

The compliment surprised the Captain, for his attempt was amateurish. Varus did indeed seem unfamiliar with sound. Maybe what he said about “seeing” rather than “hearing” was true.

“What is an owl?”

“A bird. A flying animal.”

“Ah, like a bat. I thought it might be that kind of creature.” A disturbing thought struck the Captain. “But bats roost on the ceiling. Here the ceiling is so far away. How do owls get up there?” He tilted his head back.

“They roost in trees,” Varus answered.

“Trees?”

“Yes, large plants, over eight meters high with trunks you can’t even get your arms around.”

“There are plants that large in ‘surface’?”

“On the surface. Yes.”

“Are those trees?” Penel asked, waving her hand into the distance.

The Captain paused, and then echo-located. A strange maze of vertical bars answered his call with a soft mass crowning the tops that whispered greenish tales.

“Yes, that’s them. Put together they’re called a forest. I live on the plain because I know you bottom dwellers are too afraid to bother me there. Those of you who have dared to breach the surface seem to find the forest more comforting.”

“I would agree,” the Captain said.

“I am not surprised. And it is here you will find the cave leading back to your Colony.”

“How do you know this?”

“This is not an easy place for me to live. I need help from the Colonies, and in return I’ve used my radiatory skills to scout out mineral fields. My machines see many things.”

“Then the Queens have known of you for some time.”

“Yes.” Varus turned away to look back across the prairie. “For some time.”

Penel left the Captain to take Varus’ hand. With her other hand, she brushed fingers across his face. “The Red Colony is good. They’ll help you get home.”

Varus gave a small snort, and then returned Penel’s gesture. “You are a precious child. Come, let’s get you home.”

As each step brought them closer to the forest, the Captain felt a growing anxiousness for the cover of the trees. His pace quickened, and soon he was pulling Penel under the treasured cover. He drew the thick air into his lungs like a parched man drinking from an oasis. “Such a place is never properly appreciated until it’s missed.”

“I find it a bit close,” Varus said.

“Yes?” the Captain answered in confusion. He agreed with the words, but didn’t understand the sentiment attached to them.

A howl sounded in the distance.

“What animal is that?” the Captain asked. He had to admit the intrigue of discovery grew on him. Maybe after Penel was safe he would return to the forest on occasion and talk more with Varus about ‘surface’ and ‘sky’.

“That is bad,” Varus’ voice wavered. He pulled a knife from his belt and handed it to the Captain. “We must hurry.”

“Captain,” Penel called out, and he felt a trembling hand grasp at his shirt.

He caught her beneath the arms, and lifted her onto his shoulders as he had in the tunnels. Her increased size bore down on him, but the howls multiplied, giving motivation to his steps.

Varus took off with great speed, and the Captain pushed his legs to remain close by.

“The new Red tunnel is a few hundred meters away and well guarded. If we get close enough for them to hear, maybe they will send help.” Varus’ mechanical voice bounced in rhythm with his fleeing steps.

The baying grew closer, and the Captain could distinguish the smell of animal from tree. It was the heavy, musty smell of fur like the rats he had known from the tunnels, but these animals were much larger and swifter. Mixed with the pungent, gray dander drifting on the breeze, the Captain caught a whiff of the enemy.

“They work for the Black,” he huffed between strides.

“I thought that was obvious,” Varus chirped back.

“I can’t carry you all the way.” The Captain slowed to a halt, and then bent to drop Penel to the ground. “Go on. I’ll delay them.”

“They’ll just go around you,” Varus protested. “This is not a tunnel.”

“Go on,” he shouted, giving Penel a shove. “I’ll think of something.”

“Captain,” she protested.

“Go!”

“The wolves can’t climb,” Varus said. “Help me put her up in a tree.”

The Captain tilted his head upward to consider the green mass over his head, and then accepted Varus’s plan. They each grabbed a leg, boosting the girl upward until she could grab the closest limb and pull herself high above the forest floor.

“Now you.” The Captain knelt below the tree and offered his back.

“She needs you, not me,” Varus answered.

“I am the warrior,” the Captain countered.

The wolves burst from the cover of the trees, and Varus waited no longer. He leapt on the Captain’s back, and the Captain lifted with all his might. He heard scrambling, and felt Varus’ boots kicking against him, and then the weight disappeared.

The Captain stood straight, his back against the tree trunk for whatever protection it would provide. Holding the knife out toward the wolves, he drew a deep breath into his lungs, and released a blaring Red call for help.

Then the wolves were upon him, snarling and slashing with both teeth and claws.

The knife sliced through them in response, and one after another fell at his feet. Blood from his wounds trickled down his arm, and his grip on the knife handle grew slippery. His hearing became muddy, and his reactions to the varied attacks from left and right slowed. He had done his duty, and he could do no more.

* * *

Proceed to part 5...