After Earth (30 page)

The Ursa managed to wedge itself into the crevice, its sheer bulk wearing away the edges. As it neared Kitai, it spit more black poison in his direction, and the law of averages dictated that a second bit of the gross venom would make contact. He continued to crawl backward. The Ursa matched him centimeter by centimeter. As Viper closed the distance to its prey, the Ursa once more tried to snatch Kitai with its foreclaws but failed to reach him. It spit again, pressing its advantage.

Kitai continued to shimmy back, not daring to take his eyes off the beast. As a result, he missed the fact that he was running out of space. Before he knew it, he was slipping, and gravity took hold of his slender form and yanked. Suddenly, he was falling. Not far, maybe two meters, but enough to surprise him before he struck a rock. Pain radiated from the impact, and he grunted more than once but refused to scream. Instead, he flipped from the rock, spun around, and continued to fall, this time much farther down. He remembered how sailors fell to their doom in
Moby Dick
and feared he was about to join them.

That was when he hit water and confused the novel with his own situation. He nearly swallowed a mouthful as he sank low. He threw out his arms and legs, spreading them to distribute his weight evenly. Without taking the time to hold his breath, he had precious little oxygen in his system and needed to get control of his situation. Fast.

Steady but still underwater, he opened his eyes, impressed that the smart fabric in his lifesuit still provided some illumination. Twin spots of light from his shoulders let him see maybe two meters in any direction. As he hurriedly assessed his position, he saw a shaft of light waver in the water. Light meant escape and, he hoped, freedom. A chance to complete the mission and save his father. But if he made it down here, could the Ursa have followed? And did it know how to swim?
He hadn’t sensed the kind of impact a creature of its bulk would have made, but that didn’t mean anything.

Feeling the lack of air start to burn, he began to swim toward the light. In looking back, he couldn’t recall where he felt the first bite, but suddenly his body was enveloped with tiny sightless fish with big teeth taking nips. He’d heard of such fish but couldn’t recall their name. Instead, he felt them ripping his lifesuit, which he didn’t think possible.

As quickly as the fish attacked him, they disappeared faster. Kitai began to wonder what had changed but knew in a heartbeat why. The Ursa had made its way to him and was now approaching, its six legs propelling it through the water at a fast enough rate to worry him. One leg and claw slashed at Kitai, narrowly missing his leg.

Turning away from the predator, Kitai pushed off and swam as hard as he knew how. He was swimming for his life in almost total darkness, his shoulder lights flickering thanks to the fish tearing at the integrated bodysuit. He continued toward the streaming light. The Ursa was right behind him and closing.

Kitai, already breathing hard and laboring, pushed himself even harder to pick up speed. There was now desperation mixing in with his practiced strokes. The lights flashed briefly on an unusually beautiful group of stalactites just before him. It was a straight, unimpeded line to the light, but that also played to the Ursa’s strengths. As he swam and tried to control his mounting panic, Kitai strained to strategize. He veered off and swam through the stalactites, pushing off each one for extra momentum. Sure enough, he was putting much-needed distance between him and the bulky beast.

What happened next was confusing, largely because Kitai was disoriented. He was rushing so far, so fast underwater that he grew confused. He was uncertain
which way was up and knew he needed to find out quickly before he drowned. A few bubbles escaped his lips and traveled down.

How are bubbles going down? That isn’t right
.

Kitai flipped himself around and followed the bubbles, which rose to the surface. As he broke the surface, he spotted the light and took a much-needed breath. As he reached the light’s contact point with the water, Kitai saw that he was at the bottom of a vertical shaft of rock that traveled roughly twenty-five meters above him to where daylight awaited.

Despite his weariness, Kitai left the water, pulling himself up on a jagged piece of rock, which cut into exposed parts of his flesh now that the lifesuit was compromised. He took several deep breaths to center himself and then positioned his feet on either side of the shaft to brace himself. He reached out with his arms, pulled himself up, and then began the slow, steady climb to the surface.

Before he went several meters, though, the Ursa burst from the water and reached for its prey. One claw snagged Kitai’s leg, but once more its bulk prevented it from succeeding. It could not fit into the shaft and follow Kitai. In fury the beast tried to pull the human toward its gaping mouth. Kitai looked into the maw with its sharp teeth, moist tongue, and dark innards. He screamed. Two claws had gotten purchase and begun dragging him backward. His legs scissored to break free as his arms pulled his body upward. Both efforts worked, and with a sudden rush forward, he was free. As he clambered up, the Ursa bound out of the water in a final attempt to grab him and bring him down. Fortunately, the effort failed and the Ursa fell back to the underground lake.

Kitai was in pain. The tiny cuts were not deep, but there were enough larger cuts to be felt with every muscle movement. He was tired. He was hungry. There was no one around to help him; there was no rescue on
its way. All this roiled within him, and he finally let it all out in a yell of pain and fear.

Without looking down at the Ursa, Kitai climbed. He had little choice, and so he continued to the surface, focusing on the next handhold. The next step. As he rose, the beast’s roars diminished until they finally faded away and he could put it out of his mind for now. The meters vanished beneath him and he lost track of time, but the light grew brighter and he felt the beginnings of a breeze. The surface was beckoning.

The timeless void ended as his head rose above the shaft, and he once more saw clouds and sky and black mountain. He pulled himself to the surface and stood, panting. His lifesuit was still damp, and drops of water fell from the obsidian surface, which was glistening in the waning sunlight. To his surprise, it was snowing. The air around him was filling with flakes, but as they adhered to his skin and lifesuit, he noticed they were not crystalline water droplets but something ashy. Then he remembered. This was a volcano, and it was still very much awake. From where he stood, there really were no safe places to climb. He was standing essentially on the edge of a cliff, and it was a long way down.

On the
Hesper
, Cypher Raige was waging war with himself, forcing the fever-induced flashbacks away. He remained frantic as he feared the worst for his son. There had been no communications for some time now, and Kitai’s signal appeared to be lost. So did the Ursa’s avatar, making him go mad with worry and concern. If the Ursa had killed Kitai and lived, it would continue to hunt and eventually find its way to him. Somehow, he knew, it would locate the sole remaining human on
Earth and kill him. Or he would bleed out, leaving behind a somewhat rancid corpse for the Ursa.

A beeping sound caught his wavering attention, and he saw that Kitai’s vital signs were registering.
He’s alive!
The screen representing Kitai’s lifesuit camera winked back on, and Cypher saw the dark mountain. His son was alive and above the ionic interference. All he had to do was activate the beacon. But what was he waiting for?

Kitai steadied himself, having ascertained his current whereabouts and situation. His breathing was once more under control, but his stomach was demanding attention. He was out of MREs and would have to tough it out. He began to reach for the backpack and the homing beacon when he was distracted by the sounds of an avalanche. Or so it seemed to him. He turned toward the sound and saw the shaft being torn apart. Rocks fell into the entrance, and there was an unmistakable sound of claw against rock. The Ursa was forcing its way up to continue its hunt for Kitai.

The security chief had been right. Once the beast imprinted on Kitai, it would not stop until it or Kitai was dead.

It was beginning to occur to Kitai that it might be him.

But first he had to save his father.

He reached for the beacon, but before he could activate the signal, a claw grabbed his legs and pulled. The teen fell face-first into the hard rock. Both hands flew open with the impact, and the beacon flew one way and the cutlass another.

Kitai tried to scramble to his feet, but the Ursa, still trying to emerge from the shaft, smacked him into another rock and then hefted him into the air, tossing him away like a rag doll. As he hit the ground, he felt blood
gush from his nose and pain in his neck. He wanted to get up, run away, but he couldn’t. He hurt too much. This was it.

The Ursa, once it reached the surface, was going to claim its prey.

Senshi was most certainly her father’s daughter, preferring things to be just so. She rose every day at the same time whether she was on or off duty. There were the calisthenics to stay in shape, followed by a light breakfast, and then a run before cleaning up and dressing for the day. She invariably tied her long black hair behind her in a fashionable bun, barely pausing to notice her brown skin and bright eyes. Most days, dressing meant putting on her uniform.

She loved the Rangers, their sense of camaraderie and community. Although she could have applied to join at thirteen, she wanted to make sure she could ace the rigorous mental and physical testing, and so she worked hard for another two years. On one of his rare visits home, she made her father, the general, watch her practice portions of the test on a deserted field. She scaled rock walls, traveled by a zip line, and demonstrated hand-to-hand combat skills. She was so proud of how well she was doing that the final component, the mock cutlass battle, was going to be no problem.

Instead, she was black and blue for days. Her father was one with his weapon, athletic and graceful as he put on a one-man demonstration of forms until he used the cutlass to sweep her off her feet, letting her fall ass-first onto the hard ground.

He reached down to help her up and finally gave her a smile of approval, something withheld the last few hours.

“I think you’ll do,” he told her.

His rare praise gave her the confidence to apply to the Rangers the next morning.

After completing the two-part training period, she was thrilled as she crossed the stage and received her badge while her father watched. He looked taller than ever in his crisp white uniform. Nothing compared with that feeling of elation, of accomplishment. Their eyes met, and she saw all his love and pride revealed as if for the first time. She couldn’t help but steal a glance at her mother, Faia, and younger brother, Kitai, as they cheered from the second row.

A week later she moved out of the family’s tidy, tiny apartment, preferring to bunk with her fellow Rangers until the time came for a place of her own. She visited the family for meals, and the first time she arrived, she brought her cutlass with her to show Kitai.

After dinner, she put on a demonstration for him, with both parents watching intently. She showed him several of the many configurations of the C-10 model, pirouetting and explaining several of the attack forms she had been taught. He watched with saucer eyes and clapped in delight.

Faia was full of praise, but Cypher pointed out things she was doing wrong, taking her outside to spend the next two hours working with her. She did not take offense at his criticisms or argue but worked intently. This, after all, was how he showed he cared, and she loved him for it.

Now, four years later, she was nineteen and already had been promoted to Ranger, second class. Senshi Raige was on the fast track to commander, determined to do her father proud. More than that, she knew that the moment she took the Ranger oath, she was committing to a way of life that her family had embraced dating all the way back to Earth. While her little brother played, she was immersing herself in the family history, starting with the first Supreme Commander of the Rangers, Skyler Raige II. It wasn’t long after they arrived on Nova Prime before the title of Supreme Commander
was retired in favor of Prime Commander. More recently, her great-grandmother Khantun was even the Imperator for a brief time, and now her father was the Prime Commander. Although he might be
expecting
her to replace him one day, she
wanted
the job.

Kitai might have tested off the scales in terms of Ranger potential, but he was still young and not interested. Their mother seemed resigned to his entering the Corps at some future point but acted as a counterbalance to Cypher’s infrequent comments about what was expected from him. Instead, the boy was currently excited about the Landing Day celebration, being a typical boy.

She reveled in being a Ranger. She enjoyed being out on patrol, getting to know the city’s nooks and crannies, watching how businesses found new uses for the remarkable smart fabric. The skies buzzed with mag-lev traffic, and the city was thrumming with life.

It had been fairly quiet, giving her a chance to brush up on her piloting. She had expressed an interest in the Varuna Squadron and was taking extra lessons back at command. Scheduled for her first solo flight in a few weeks, she’d already invited Braden to come watch. He might be a civilian, but he was a cute civilian, and they had been dating for months now. Faia had even started questioning how serious they were getting, but Senshi was living in the moment and was not focused on that kind of a future. Not yet. There was time for that. The Raiges tended to marry and start families later than the average person, and she was fine with that. It brought less pressure.

All of that ran through her mind as she put on a fresh shirt and shorts before heading to the rec center. The spacious training and physical recreation facility was deep within the mountain housing the Rangers, kept cool by the natural rock and lack of windows. There were discrete areas for weight training, for calisthenics, and a general-purpose parquet floor for other activities.