Page 28 of Pets in Space 10
“Get behind me,” he whispered, but Cass was already moving forward, her scientific curiosity overriding caution as she peered into the darkness.
Stubborn female.
He needed her safe and out of harm’s way. After a quick glance around, he grabbed her around the waist and lifted her onto a narrow ledge carved into the tunnel wall about two meters above the floor.
“What are you doing?” she hissed, her voice a mixture of surprise and indignation.
“Stay there. Turn out your light and stay quiet.” His voice left no room for argument as he positioned himself beneath her, eyes fixed on the darkness ahead.
“You can’t just — ”
“Cass,” he said urgently. “Please.”
Something in his tone must have convinced her, because she obeyed, even though he could practically feel her frustration radiating from the ledge above.
Roland scurried up the wall to join her, his small mechanical body moving with surprising agility over the rock. The armadillo positioned himself protectively beside her, golden eyes glowing in the dark recess.
He dimmed his own light to a minimum, allowing his enhanced vision to adjust to the near-darkness. The tunnel stretched before him, curving slightly to the right. The scraping sound came again, closer now — a rhythmic drag-pause-drag that raised the hairs on the back of his neck.
His first thought when he’d heard noises in the tunnel was that they’d stumbled upon an illegal mining operation.
Mars was vast, its resources largely untapped.
It wouldn’t be the first time someone had tried to stake an unauthorized claim in a remote area.
It was the logical assumption, but as that odd, deliberate sound drew closer, the rational explanation no longer seemed quite so obvious.
“Zach?” Her voice was barely a whisper.
“Shh.”
Whatever was in the tunnel was nearly upon them, but his cybernetic senses detected no heat signatures, no electrical signals, nothing at all to suggest the presence of anything living.
“There’s nothing there.”
He kept his hand near his weapon, a compact energy pistol holstered at his hip. Standard issue for the rangers, powerful enough to stop most threats but designed to minimize structural damage in enclosed spaces — critical when living in pressurized habitats.
The scraping grew louder. Thirty meters. Twenty. Ten.
Then he saw it.
A shadow moved at the edge of his enhanced vision — something large sliding along the tunnel. His optical processors automatically adjusted, enhancing the available light, filtering out interference.
What emerged from the darkness froze the breath in his lungs.
The creature was about the same size as Phantom, but its thick scaled body hovered just above the ground on six insect-like legs.
The front two legs ended in huge clawed appendages that dragged against the floor, creating the scraping noise.
A ridge of spikes crowned its head and continued down its spine, a slightly darker shade than the rust red of its scales.
The head was long and narrow, with multi-faceted black eyes, and the mouth was surrounded by multi-pointed mandibles.
His hand moved to his weapon, the worn grip a familiar comfort.
He’d faced many dangers in his life — human enemies, environmental hazards, mechanical failures — but never anything like this.
He forced himself to evaluate the creature for potential weaknesses, estimating its potential speed and strength as he gripped his weapon.
“Don’t!” she whispered urgently from above. “Don’t hurt it!”
He didn’t take his eyes off the creature. “It could be dangerous.”
“We don’t know that,” she insisted. “This could be the greatest discovery in human history. We can’t just shoot it.”
The creature’s head swayed, then focused on him. He tensed, ready to draw his weapon if it charged.
“It might be sentient. If those are symbols on the wall, this could be what made them.”
“Or it could be what ate whatever made them,” he countered, tracking the creature’s every movement.
The thing skittered forward several meters, then stopped again.
Now that it was closer, he could see more details — the scales weren’t uniform but varied in size and thickness, with some appearing almost translucent while others were opaque and ridged.
The subtle variations would help camouflage it on the surface — but if it was designed to live on the surface, what was it doing down here?
“Look at how it’s moving,” she whispered. “It’s cautious. Curious, maybe, but not aggressive.”
He wasn’t convinced. Predators often approached cautiously, assessing potential prey before striking. But he had to admit the creature wasn’t behaving like any predator he was familiar with. Its movements were too deliberate, too measured.
The creature suddenly produced the same resonant vibration they’d heard earlier — a deep, pulsing sound that seemed to emanate not from any specific part of its body but from its entire form.
The tunnel walls vibrated in response, creating harmonics that made his head ache before his nanites filtered the overlapping frequencies.
“It’s trying to communicate,” she breathed, obviously excited.
The creature advanced again, now only about five meters away.
Close enough that even Cass, with her unenhanced vision, could see it clearly in the dim light.
He heard her sharp intake of breath just as the creature surged forward, covering half the distance between them with startling speed.
His weapon was in his hand before he consciously decided to draw it, his body reacting to years of training.
“No!” she cried. “Don’t shoot it!”
The creature froze at the sound of her voice, its head rearing up until it was almost level with his head. It scanned the tunnel again before focusing directly on the ledge where Cass sat.
He saw the moment it found her. He saw its body tense and the subtle shift in its posture, the gathering of its muscles.
He saw it prepare to strike.
No time for debate, no time for scientific consideration. Only action.
As the creature launched itself towards the ledge — towards Cass — he fired. The energy weapon discharged with a high-pitched whine, the bolt striking the creature mid-leap. Its body convulsed, limbs flailing wildly as the current surged through its nervous system.
But it didn’t fall.
The creature twisted in the air, its trajectory altered but not stopped, and slammed into the wall beside the ledge, its scales scraping against the rock with a sound like metal on stone.
Cass scrambled backwards, pressing herself against the back of the recess as Roland positioned himself between her and the creature, his small claws extended in a defensive posture.
The creature recovered with unnatural speed, clinging to the vertical surface with those insect-like legs. The wound from his weapon was visible — a dark patch where scales had been seared away, revealing something that glistened wetly beneath. But if it was in pain, it showed no sign.
Its head turned towards Cass again, and he didn’t hesitate.
He fired again, aiming for what he hoped was a more vulnerable spot — the exposed throat beneath the raised head.
The creature twisted at the last second, the shot grazing the side of its neck rather than hitting it squarely.
More scales burned away, but still it clung to the wall, now less than a meter from Cass.
“Stop!” she shouted, but he couldn’t tell if she was addressing him or the creature.
The thing lunged for her with one of its huge front claws.
Roland squeaked in alarm and slashed at it with his own small mechanical claws.
The difference in size was ludicrous, and it seemed impossible that the armadillo’s efforts would make any difference but the creature recoiled, its scales flaring in what looked like confusion.
It made that vibrating sound again, but the pattern was different — shorter pulses, higher frequency.
He was already moving, leaping up to catch the edge of the ledge with one hand while keeping his weapon trained on the creature with the other. He pulled himself up in a single fluid motion, positioning his body between Cass and the creature.
“Get behind me,” he ordered, not taking his eyes off the creature.
Her breath was coming in ragged gasps, but she didn’t argue, tucking herself behind him and grabbing the back of his belt as if for reassurance. He’d never known such a mix of fear and determination — fear that he couldn’t keep her safe and determination to do whatever it took to protect her.
The creature’s head swayed back and forth, the movement reminding him of a snake. Or a lizard. Its head lowered, bringing its face level with his, its mandibles clicking together.
He stared back at the thing, unblinking.
“I’ll protect her,” he promised, and the creature paused, then responded with another short pulse of vibration.
Stalemate. He could see the intelligence in its strange, black eyes, the deliberation in its movements. But the creature was injured, bleeding from where his shots had hit it, and Roland’s attack had left odd, burnt-looking marks on its claws. It would have to retreat soon.
Instead it attacked, moving with that same astonishing speed.
One of the huge claws knocked the gun from his hand, his hand going numb in the process.
The claw scraped his side as it tried to reach past him to get to Cass.
He grabbed it with his uninjured hand in time to prevent it from reaching her, but the strength in its limb almost matched his own enhanced strength.
He forced his numb hand to obey him enough to grab for it as well, but as soon as his cybernetic hand touched the creature it hissed and recoiled, losing its grip on the wall. It dropped to the floor, dark blood dripping from the wounds he’d made.
It studied them, and for a second, he thought it was going to charge again. Instead it made one of its odd noises before disappearing back into the darkness.