Chapter 5 #2
No, I couldn’t blame this on bad luck. My tumble was my fault for not watching where I put my feet. I knew better than to get distracted on uneven terrain. But what the hells had I glimpsed from the corner of my eye? What could possibly make that bright red glimmer?
It had sparkled or crackled like energy, but there was nothing artificial out here in the wilderness.
If anything, the glint had reminded me of a tiny version of Hyderia’s spectacular upper-atmospheric korae, but obviously it wasn’t that.
Those massive electrical discharges took place forty kilometers or more above the ground, and they covered many square kilometers.
They weren’t single tendrils a meter or less in length.
The agony in my ankle made it hard to think. Every movement sent sizzles of pain through my lower left leg, but I managed to sit up against the boulder and unseal my pack. Forux lay next to me and put his chin on my leg.
“Thanks, friend,” I said, scratching him on the top of his head and behind all his ears. His tails wagged a little, but his furrowed brow made it clear no amount of scritches was going to make him feel better.
First things first: check the condition of the specimen containers.
One by one, with trembling hands I took them out of the pack to make sure the stasis generators that preserved their contents were running normally.
The containers themselves were damn near indestructible, but the generators weren’t.
Only when all twelve checked out—especially my prize Basiforuximycota—did I breathe a shaky sigh of relief.
That done, I dug out my medkit, unsealed an analgesic transdermal patch, and pulled up my left pant leg to slap it on my bare skin. Technically I could have put the patch anywhere, but it made me feel better, at least psychologically, to put it directly on or close to the source of pain.
Within just a few heartbeats, the painkiller flooded my body and swept away the agony.
I leaned the back of my head against the boulder and groaned again, this time in bliss.
All the gods above and below, bless the J’Norans.
They’d developed some of the galaxy’s deadliest weapons, but also pioneered cutting-edge medicine, especially triage care.
This powerful analgesic tended to make me nauseous, but I’d take that over the agony.
The absence of pain allowed me to remove my boot and wind a bone stabilization wrap around my swollen and discolored ankle and foot.
As soon as I sealed it, the wrap activated, forming a thick, padded brace with a hard exterior I would be able to walk on.
A sizzle of pain made me suck in air through my teeth before it faded thanks to the analgesic.
I’d only fallen about ten meters down the mountainside, but from here, it looked like a kilometer. By the time I limped to the transport, I’d have little to no chance of making it back to the research station before the suns set. Damn it to all the hells.
My wristcomm beeped. The signal was a transmission relayed by the transport. My stomach, already unsettled by the fall and pain, lurched. Only one person would be contacting me this way.
Part of me wanted to ignore him, but there was a good chance he’d gotten some kind of alert about my fall and was responding.
As much as I disliked him—hated him, in fact—he was Nova Cal’s director of research.
I didn’t technically answer to him, but he was in charge of the station.
And if I didn’t answer, he might take it upon himself to come check on me, lest I be unconscious or deceased at the bottom of a ravine.
Not that he would care except it would require him to write some reports.
The device beeped again.
I cleared my throat and tapped the band on my wrist. “This is Elena.” At least my voice didn’t shake.
“Dr. Regis.” Ardruc’s greeting was as brusque as always. Maybe I’d half expected him to at least sound slightly concerned, but I should have known better. “I received an alert that you experienced a moderate fall.”
He didn’t ask if I was all right, or even what happened. He simply stated a fact and then waited for me to explain my moderate fall. Gods, didn’t he ever tire of being awful?
Forux curled his lip and growled. Which Ardruc had probably heard.
“My ankle is broken, but stabilized,” I gritted out. “I’m on my way back to the transport. I’ll send you my ETA once I’m in the air.”
“What caused the fall?” Still brusque, still as clinical as a primitive computer. “For my notes.”
For his notes. My fists clenched.
Should I tell him about the strange red glint and how much it resembled the phenomena he studied?
Almost as quickly as I’d thought about it, I scoffed.
Imagine the scorn I’d receive for suggesting some kind of upper-atmospheric electrical discharge could manifest as a tiny tendril deep in the forest.
The alternative explanation was almost as painful, though. “I lost my footing on a steep slope,” I said, wishing I had the energy to come up with a convincing and less embarrassing lie. “Nothing too interesting. Loose rock, probably.”
“Noted. Please keep me apprised of your flight status.” The signal ended.
“Big, pompous, winged asshole,” I grumbled.
With a groan, I struggled to stand using the boulder for support. “I wish you were venomous,” I told Forux. “For that matter, I wish I was venomous. But then I’d have to get close enough to him to bite him. No thanks.”
Forux yipped in what sounded like agreement.
Cursing and bracing myself on the boulder, I made it to my feet. My first order of business was to find a sturdy fallen branch for a walking stick. Luckily, I had my choice within easy limping distance.
I found one about as long as I was tall, broke off the twigs, and held it out for Forux’s inspection. “My turn to find a perfect stick, I guess,” I said wryly.
He sniffed my choice and wagged his tails. I took that as approval.
My pack probably weighed just under twenty kilograms. Heavy enough when I didn’t have a broken ankle, but now…ugh. If only I could lessen the weight and leave everything but the specimens behind.
Nyvoran law stated that nothing could be left behind during field research. Maybe I could get away with it and come back later for the rest, but I didn’t want to risk my approval status or my renewal application. Nothing to do but get the pack on my back and start climbing.
As I settled it on my shoulders and fastened the straps across my upper chest and around my waist, Forux circled my legs repeatedly. I didn’t need to be empathic like him to understand how worried he was. So for his sake and mine, I took a couple of deep breaths.
“One step at a time,” I told myself aloud. “Just like everything else you’ve done. One step at a time.”
I glanced at my wristcomm’s navigational screen to ensure I was headed in the right direction, planted my walking stick firmly, braced myself, and took a step.
With Forux at my side and my stick for support, I climbed the slope, following the trail of disturbed ground that showed where I’d fallen and on alert for anything I might trip on or that could cause me to lose my footing.
At least the painkillers and bone-stabilization wrap did their job and no one was around to watch me cursing and limping.
I kept my eyes on the ground, ensuring each step I took was a secure one.
Every few minutes I paused for a quick rest and scanned my surroundings. No sign of the red glint, whatever it had been. It hadn’t been my imagination or a trick of the light, but I had no idea what it could be.
Ardruc was the scientist specializing in upper-atmospheric cold plasma phenomena, not me, but I’d spent many nights on the roof of the Nova Cal station watching the korae in awe.
To my eyes, what I’d seen looked like a tiny kora.
Or maybe a ground-level static form of electrical discharge?
But I’d been exploring the forests on Hyderia for months and never seen one.
Others had spent years and even decades here and never reported a sighting of such a thing.
And surely if it existed, Ardruc would know.
“I know what I saw, though,” I grumbled aloud.
I argued with myself—silently and out loud—all the way to the transport. If nothing else, it helped keep me from thinking about my ankle or Ardruc. What Forux thought of my muttering, I couldn’t tell. He stayed in front of me carrying his prize stick.
When I finally emerged from the tree line, nothing had ever looked so beautiful as the transport and the clear sky above it—well, besides my intact specimen of Basiforuximycota.
The late afternoon sunlight was waning rapidly as the suns set. Even at the transport’s top speed, I had more than an hour of flight time once I was airborne. Staying the night and waiting until morning was not an option. I needed to get back to the station to heal my broken ankle.
I opened the transport’s door using my wristcomm. “In you go,” I told Forux, and set my pack on the floor of the little two-person transport. “Let’s go home.”
Well, not that Nova Cal was home, but it was the closest to that we had. I’d never had any real emotional attachment to any place I’d lived, really. My research took me across Alliance space and I rarely stayed more than half a standard year on any planet or moon.
Hyderia was the first planet I’d lived on besides my home planet of Fyloria where I felt even an inkling of belonging. This world was wondrous and beautiful, from its korae to its fungi. I could see myself staying here for longer than anywhere else—despite the presence of Dr. Ardruc Husiorithae.
Once Forux jumped inside, I sat in the transport’s open doorway to apply a new analgesic patch.
I didn’t want the old one to wear off during the flight.
Flying was nerve-wracking enough for me as it was.
The fact it was a requirement for my research and I had to pilot a transport all the time didn’t lessen my anxiety.
I stuffed the empty patch packet into my pack, stowed the pack in a cargo bin, and started to get to my feet.
A glint of shimmering bright red shone through the darkness of the forest, maybe ten meters from where I sat. I stilled.
It looked like a thread of a kora, all right, or a tendril of plasma, but only about a meter or so long and hovering vertically off the ground. What. The. Hells?
A moment later, the little kora darted away and disappeared into the forest.
My hand went to Forux’s warm, furry head. “Did you see that?” I whispered, scanning the trees for another glimpse of the red kora.
Forux chuffed quietly, his sharp gaze and alert ears fixed on the trees. We watched for nearly ten more minutes, but nothing stirred. The forest remained dark and silent.
Finally, I gave up and shut the outer door. As I started departure procedures, Forux stood on the co-pilot’s seat, staring out the front window with his front paws on the instrument panel. He growled at the setting suns.
“I know, I know. We’re going.” I powered up the engine and engaged the liftoff thrusters.
Two minutes later, I had the transport in the air and on its way to Nova Cal. I sent my flight information to Ardruc and increased my speed, racing nightfall to get to relative safety.
During the journey, my thoughts were full, but not of my prize Basiforuximycota. Instead, I imagined impossible kora that despite every bit of logic in my body I thought had darted into the trees to hide from me. If that was true, what looked like kora wasn’t just plasma—it was alive.
I glanced at Forux. He laid all his ears flat against his head, his brow furrowed.
“Me too, friend,” I said, with a white-knuckled grip on the flight controls. “Me too.”