A distant sound caught his attention and he turned, keeping the beam of his laser sight at waist-level as he continued to move forward. When something large and irregular on the floor interrupted the beam he halted immediately and almost fired. Approaching cautiously, he saw that there was no need to shoot.
In the dim light he recognized the creature that had attacked the landing party. A mass of dead white flesh and splattered blood, it was no threat now. Not to himself or anything else. Despite his conviction he approached the corpse warily, all too conscious of the speed with which it previously had moved.
Holding tight to his weapon, he kicked at one motionless white leg. It rebounded slightly from the contact, and clattered softly against the pavement. Otherwise, there was no reaction. It was dead for certain, he told himself. Which begged an interesting question.
Who, or what, had killed it?
Though it displayed all the signs of having been shot up by a standard-issue carbine, given the surprises this world held, the private wasn’t ready to take anything for granted.
As he pondered multiple possibilities, he heard a new sound, and continued on. Definitely a voice, he told himself. A human voice, but slightly distorted. Moments later he found himself in a new chamber, one with a skylighted ceiling that stretched all the way to the top of the building. Tracking the voice, he quickly located a comm unit. It lay on the floor, drenched by but immune to the steady drip of water from above.
The voice was coming from it, distorted by the dripping liquid.
“Rosenthal, come in.” That was Lopé, calling urgently. The sergeant continued to plead via the comm. “Where are you, Rosie? Rosie, please report.”
Snapping on a light, Cole added its warm beam to the thin lance of his rifle’s laser sight, and played both around the spacious chamber. The bright beam bounced off droplets and trickles of water tumbling from above. Slender cascades shone silver in the light. Beam and laser illuminated strange plants and bloated fruit and…
Something he wished he didn’t recognize.
Walking over to where Rosenthal’s broken body lay crumpled against a far wall, he winced as he examined it. It took him a minute to gather his emotions before he finally felt able to address his own comm.
“Sarge… I found her.”
Turning, he played light and laser over the surrounding room, checking every corner, every shadow, every possible place of concealment. There was nothing to be seen except flourishing plants and falling water. That, and the remains of what had once been Rosenthal.
The fact that dawn was looming only lent greater urgency to the expedition team’s efforts. What was left of them, at least. It wasn’t necessary for them to pack up all their gear. Nobody was going to dock their pay for leaving replaceable equipment behind. At this point no one cared about pay, anyway.
All that mattered anymore was getting off the cursed globe on which they found themselves, and doing so alive and with as many functioning limbs and organs as possible.
The four of them gathered up the easier-to-pack items anyway. In giving them something to do, it took their minds at least temporarily away from the devastated jumble of blood and bone that had been Private Rosenthal.
As perhaps the most competent and professional of Lopé’s team, her ugly demise only served to magnify in their minds the threat they all faced. True, one of the two neomorphs that had attacked them in the high grass was dead, but that left at least one other alive, and who knew what other dangers lurked to disrupt their planned departure.
Cole almost hoped the other creature would put in an appearance, so they could blow it away.
Almost.
Off, Daniels told herself as she secured the last of her gear. She wanted off this hideous planet. She wanted to get as far away from it as hyperspace travel would allow. Never before in her career had she longed more fervently for the cold but sterile emptiness of deep space.
A look of utter frustration on his face, an impatient Lopé was scanning the corners of the huge chamber.
“Where the hell is Oram?”
Walter stepped forward. “He wanted to think. Or to grieve further. Perhaps both. He went off by himself. Daniels and I thought it discreet to allow him his privacy.”
Daniels looked over at the sergeant.
“I saw him leave,” she admitted. “I didn’t think he should go, but I was too tired to argue with him. He’s been gone a long time. Too long, I think.”
“Why isn’t he answering his comm?” There was a touch of fresh panic in Cole’s voice.
Daniels tamped it down. “Take it easy. I was exhausted and fell asleep. He was just as tired, if not more so. He probably sat down somewhere and did the same. Dozed off somewhere, just like I did.” When Cole didn’t respond to her attempt to reassure him, she tried another tack.
“Listen to me. I’ll contact the ship, see if we can get them to move up the drop. Even if the weather hasn’t cleared completely, maybe they can push it a little if they’re done with prepping the cargo lift.” She regarded the two soldiers.
“Go find the captain,” she said. “Be careful. Keep your comms open and stay in touch, even if it’s just to let us know how you’re doing.”
“I’ll go find David.” Walter smiled encouragingly. “Perhaps he has some knowledge of the captain’s whereabouts. If so, I will report back immediately.”
“Good.” She nodded curtly. “We all meet back here in fifteen. No matter where Oram is, no matter what his state or condition. Anyone not back here in fifteen risks getting left behind. Got that? Fifteen, and we’re gone.”
It took several minutes after Lopé and Cole had disappeared via one portal and Walter through another, for it to strike her that she was completely alone.
XIX
Having retreated to an altitude high above the storm, the Covenant rode easily in orbit, once again unaffected by the ionospheric turmoil.
As for the storm itself, its intensity had eased considerably. Fewer and fewer of the prominent electrical discharges now pierced the clouds. The atmosphere itself was less agitated. In places, the planetary surface was starting to show through the hitherto impenetrable cloud cover.
According to Mother, it was no longer raining at the landing site. That in itself, Tennessee knew, should make the recovery operation a good deal simpler. Nothing would be more maddening than getting the landing team survivors onto the rig’s platform, only to have someone slip off and break their neck.
The cargo lift was an unlovely piece of equipment. Essentially an open metal deck buttressed by four maneuverable thrusters placed at the corners, it featured a simple control cab located forward and two powerful engines at the stern. Supplementary equipment storage modules were located aft of the control cab.
To reduce weight and increase maneuverability, all but one of these had been removed. Ricks and Upworth would have removed the stern-mounted cargo crane and its heavy-duty grasping claw as well, but for reasons of integrity the lift’s main piece of equipment couldn’t be safely disassembled from the vehicle—not without time they did not have.
As Daniels had pointed out, the cargo lift had been designed and built to transport the heaviest terraforming machinery on the Covenant, taking it from ship to ground. Its elementary controls were exceptionally forgiving, and it could take some serious abuse.
It’ll have to, Tennessee reflected as he climbed into the control cabin and strapped himself into the operator’s chair. He only hoped that the craft’s stabilizers were up to the task ahead.