CHAPTER 27: Survival

Alexander clung desperately to the vine with one hand while clawing for a hold with his other hand. His momentum carried him out and around the tree, twisting and turning. He smacked against the trunk or a thick branch, he couldn’t tell which, and the stiff vine propelled him back whence he came. Back he swung, the jungle whizzing by below in a green blur. He turned half around when he landed back in the crotch in the midst of the snake. Coils as thick as his waist looped over him.

The snake’s head, nearly half a meter wide, separated itself from the snarl and lifted above him. It struck for his face, but Alexander let go of the vine and blocked it with his armored left arm. The armor saved his life. The fangs failed to penetrate smearing venom on the hard surface. The snake didn’t let go, and tried to inject its venom into the captured member. It champed, but to no effect. The Chem armor was simply too tough to pierce.

Alexander’s right arm was free, and as the snake sought to deliver a mortal bite he clutched for a weapon. The first thing his groping fingers found was the haft of his knife. He drew it, slicing a wide gash in the snake’s body. Red blood oozed out of the deep wound, but the snake didn’t let go.

With its head locked on his arm Alexander set the point in the beaded scales of the lower jaw and shoved. The eighteen inch blade plunged through the jaws until the point sprang from the top of the skull smeared with gore. The jaws opened, releasing his arm, but the crotch of the tree became a writhing mass of muscle and scale.

The death throes of the snake pummeled Alexander mercilessly. The knife was torn from his grasp, still transfixing the skull. With a final spasmodic jerk the snake shuddered and slowly slid out of the tree. The snake was still looped around Alexander. As if to gain a final measure of revenge the heavy carcass began to pull Alexander out of the tree. Alexander clutched the closest vine and wrapped his arm. The snake slid out of the tree, coil by coil, stretching him like a rack. Finally, the last coil slipped off and the carcass thumped to the forest floor.

Alexander watched it fall, and so did the Tyrannosaurus. The snake dropped not five meters away.

“You’ll have to be more careful in the future,” the automaton advised him. “We wouldn’t want to waste such a promising start! A pity about your knife though, I’ve a feeling you’ll be missing it!”

Alexander settled himself back in the crotch of the tree and caught his breath. He cast a sour glance at the floating silver ball.

“Just how many people have you talked to death down here?”

The Tyrannosaurus looked up at him and snarled. Then it returned to its business, ripping huge chunks of flesh and bone from the rapidly disappearing lion creature. Alexander surveyed the scene. All the other carrion creatures scattered during the attack, and none had returned. His knife was still lodged in the snake’s head, tantalizingly close, and yet impossibly far away.

If he waited for the Tyrannosaurus to finish and leave, the scavengers would be on the snake in no time. They would dissect the carcass and carry the head away to some dark den, and the knife with it. At the moment the Tyrannosaurus seemed unconcerned with anything or anyone. There was nothing for it. Alexander took a deep breath, questioned his own sanity and began to climb down the vine.

“What are you doing?”

“No one takes what’s mine,” Alexander said gruffly.

“You can’t be serious. A knife can’t be that valuable. Think about this. You’ve already made a wonderful beginning, don’t spoil it now.”

Alexander ignored the rest of it. Cautiously he made his way down, keeping an eye on the Tyrannosaurus. He didn’t want to surprise it, so he climbed down in full view of the leviathan, not trying to hide or do anything else which would arouse its suspicions. It watched him for a short time. Then apparently deciding he was too small to be of concern, it turned back to its meal. It continued to feed as he passed the ten meter point. Now it could pluck him from the tree if it so desired. His heart beat palpably in his breast as he reached the ground.

There was no use of stealth now. If the Tyrannosaurus wanted him he’d have to shoot it and hope for the best, there was no way he could climb the tree faster than the dinosaur could move. Alexander stepped boldly to the body of the snake, going straight to the head.

“Excuse me Rex, I’ll just get my knife and be on my way. There’s a good boy,” Alexander said, trying to bolster his own courage. As he stooped to pull out the knife the Tyrannosaurus raised its dripping head from its meal and snorted. The fetid breath, heavy with the smell of fresh blood, rolled over him. He ignored it and went about his business of pulling out the knife. The Tyrannosaurus snorted again, but then returned to its meal.

Alexander took the opportunity to cut snake’s tail off, it was right there within arm’s reach, giving him a meter long piece of meat—just in case the Banthror was as bad as the automaton said. Without further notice from the Tyrannosaurus, he climbed back into his perch in the tree. The automaton was waiting for him.

“In all my decurns on Pantrixnia that’s definitely a first. Terran, either you are the most foolish form of intelligent life ever spawned in this galaxy, or, well, I can’t actually think of another option.”

Alexander caught his breath, and let his heart rate settle to an acceptable level, but while he rested he scanned the trees. He wouldn’t be caught by surprise a second time. Alexander didn’t hurry, but was content to recover from his exertion and watch the Tyrannosaurus. After fifteen minutes the Tyrannosaurus gave a bellow, picked up the remains of the carcass and stalked into the jungle. Alexander got up and climbed higher into the canopy. The automaton followed him, floating annoyingly close to his head.

“What now Terran?”

He stopped, glancing at the metal ball with blatant irritation. “If you’re going to tag along you might as well start calling me Alexander. “Terran” is growing tedious.”

“Unfortunately, Terran, we do not typically allow our participants the honor of being named until they’ve distinguished themselves in death.”

“Very well, have it your way then.” He pulled out his gun and shot the automaton. The ball burned and fell from the air, careening off a number of branches and scattering the scavengers that were already gathering at the carcasses.

“Waste of a round,” Alexander observed, and he continued to climb. His goal was a level of matted growth thirty meters above the forest floor. Years of undisturbed growth allowed the branches from different trees to intertwine. Vines and creepers made the matte impenetrable in places. Old leaves and other debris collected in the densest spots. In this decaying mass other plants took hold, adding their stems and roots to the weave. Another layer of the canopy spread overhead and another after that. A perpetual twilight hid these secondary worlds from the sky, and the darkness of the forest floor below, but they were far from empty.

Alexander gained the first level of the canopy and gingerly started in the direction of the crag, vague comparisons with Tarzan of the Apes flitting though his head. He hadn’t progressed more than fifty meters before he saw he was not alone in the trees. In the glooms were tall insect-like creatures shaped roughly like a praying mantis, but like everything else on this planet they were far larger. There were a number of them, and they seemed to be foraging along his trail. Carefully, Alexander stepped off the matted vegetation and onto one of the larger branches. Footing on the undulating canopy floor was treacherous. Hidden holes and snags forced him to use vines and branches for support and pay close attention to each step.

He took a direction leading led away from the creatures. He stayed low, almost moving on all fours, and crept along quietly, hoping they might just miss him. He’d only gone another twenty meters when one of them sprang suddenly upright, its antennae waving in the air.

The mantis emitted a loud staccato clicking that attracted the attention of the others. The mantis turned towards him. Alexander stood upright, facing them openly. He hoped his size might cause them to lose interest and seek easier prey. Their answer was one of great excitement and chatter. Like crabs they scuttled over the matt toward him, clacking as they came. As they approached the insects fanned out with the obvious intention of encircling him.

Alexander cursed. His sword would be next too useless against this many creatures. He took out his gun reluctantly. Perhaps if he killed one the rest would retreat. If they did not, however, he’d use up half his remaining charges defending himself. He hesitated.

“Who makes an energy gun with so few shots!” he cursed aloud. Then it occurred to him that no one would. Swiftly he scanned the device. There were no buttons or controls that he could see other than those he’d already found, but the muzzle had a notched projection on the ring immediately behind the focus. He’d have guessed it was a sight. At the moment, though, it set upon the side of the barrel. He turned it and the light on top of the gun dimmed. He turned it all the way around until the light went out, and then back up a few clicks. The light was dim but apparent. He shot the foremost mantis.

A thin beam scorched its abdomen, and it beat the air with its forelegs. Alexander turned the gun on the next, and the next, and so on until each mantis had a taste of it. The insects, with much clicking between them, beat a hasty retreat. They gathered at the edge of his visual range, and then disappeared.

Alexander didn’t like the look of the insects. They worked together and they were too numerous to beat back with a sword. With a greater sense of urgency he worked his way towards the crag. He’d not gone more than a hundred meters, however, when he caught sight of movement behind him. It was the mantises. This time they’d returned in greater numbers. Scores of the huge insects scuttled across the canopy at an alarmingly swift rate.

Alexander’s gun was useless against such a horde. He headed for the nearest hole in the canopy. The mantises were scarcely ten meters behind when he came to a spot where he could see the forest floor. He didn’t wait but jumped through and caught hanging vine. The vine hung in a great loop thirty meters above the forest floor—he swung to and fro. Alexander made his way hand-over-hand away from the hole as quickly as he could. A quick glance behind did nothing to ease his nerves. As he feared, the mantises were scrambling out of the hole after him. Their articulated appendages made maneuvering upside down on the canopy as easy as walking.

“I see you’ve found the Remvalix,” said a familiar voice, and another silver automaton floated by his right shoulder. “They are perhaps the most intelligent of the transplanted species of Pantrixnia, and they’ve claimed the canopy as their territory.”

“Really,” Alexander grunted. He was too busy to comment further. He wasn’t going to make it to the trunk of the tree before the mantises caught him. He switched tactics, wrapping his left arm around the vine and drawing his knife. As the first mantis closed in he slashed at the vine. The vine parted and he fell just beneath the cut of a mandible.

He fell ten meters before the vine jerked him up and swung him towards the tree, but not quite to it. Alexander swung back and forth in space, ten meters below the matte of the canopy and twenty meters above the forest floor.

“You’re in a spot now,” the automaton told him. “Your present predicament looks fairly bleak; any ideas?”

“One,” he gasped. He sheathed his knife and started to swing on the vine. He couldn’t reach the trunk of the tree, but five meters to the other side was another vine that hung straight down from the matte to just above the vegetation of the forest floor. The mantises were now gathering above his haven. One was quickly starting to come down the vine towards him.

He took a moment to shoot it. It squealed and fell by him, crashing into the undergrowth of the forest floor. He did the same to the next mantis that dared the vine. This one flailed as he fell, reaching for him with its hook-like hands. A mandible caught his shoulder and only the raised lip of his cuirass kept it from sliding into and slicing through his exposed neck.

Alexander holstered his gun. Fortunately the Remvalix were now wary of his gun. They skittered around the vine clacking excitedly; apparently, they didn’t want to give up on him, but they didn’t want to climb down the vine either.

While they hesitated Alexander swung himself on the vine and launched himself into space. He caught the other vine several meters lower than he started. It jarred him, but he hung on. The mantis scuttled over to his new hanging spot intent on repeating their strategy, but before they could get there a thin dark shape shot out and caught one of them.

It was a tongue.

The tongue belonged to a ten meter monstrosity that lurched out from behind the trunk of the nearest tree. It hung upside down from great hooks that plunged into the tangle of vines and branches. The tongue drew the struggling mantis into its long tubular mouth where its jaws ground the insect to a pulp. No sooner had the first mantis disappeared then the tongue shot out again. The procedure repeated many times as the creature ambled towards the hole. The mantises fled back into the canopy, but it followed them; it poked its head through the hole it, adding a few more to its colossal stomach.

Alexander made his way down the vine before the anteater, or whatever the thing was, decided to try him as well. He would take his chances in the jungle. There, at least, he could maneuver naturally.

It was a severe blow to his hopes. The trees on Earth were man’s ancestral haven, but he should have expected as much. The Chem were clever, and it wouldn’t surprise him if every nook and cranny of this world had its own unique representative among the galaxies most fantastic carnivores. He returned to the forest floor with the grim realization that he could still see the burned tree of the clearing. His afternoon thus far included three close brushes with death in a hundred meters of travel. He was growing thirsty and tired; he’d yet to find water or a place of relative safety to hide.

He was alive, though, and that alone made up for all his misfortunes.

The automaton bobbed up in front of him. “That was another narrow escape, Alexander of Terra. Nazeera of the Triumvirate authorized us to use your given name during your adventures. You’ve been remarkably lucky so far. Do you have anything you wish to pass on to the many who are watching you now?”

“My thanks to Nazeera of the Triumvirate for her noble gesture,” he said, moving on into the jungle. “I count myself fortunate to have had the honor to meet her. She is well worthy of your praise. I send her greetings, as I do all Chem but one.”

“And who would that singular Chem you spurn be?”

“To Bureel of Chem I send nothing but scorn and contempt for his cowardice,” he said harshly. “When I leave here I will return to Chem, not for conquest, but for Bureel. I repeat my challenge to him: Bureel you are a cowardly cur! I will meet you at any place, any time, and in any honorable manner. Will you satisfy honor? Upon your answer does the honor of all Chem rest before the eyes of their brethren on Terra. Yet will you or nil you, Bureel, one day I shall have the satisfaction of strangling the miserable life out of your wretched carcass! Then I shall have rid an otherwise august body of a worm!”

Alexander stormed off into the jungle, leaving the automaton speechless before over fifty billion beings.