“Different tolerances for different species. They’ll be fine.” Aileena shrugged, then pulled her jacket closed, shivering from the cold. “We need them to hurry up though, so we can get something warmer.”
“Ah, about that…” Mellok pulled a section of the slime from his feathers and flicked his wrist, splattering it on the floor.
“What the hell happened to you?” Michael stood up shakily. The cold was getting through his shirt, his skin covered in goosebumps. He was regretting removing his jacket.
“The impact gel on the couch isn’t as highly rated as the chairs, “Mellok said. “The shock of the landing caused mine to lose its integrity and collapse into this infuriating sludge.” He slopped another glob of blue liquid from his rainbow feathers.
“You were talking about the warmer stuff?” Aileena was standing with her hands on her hips, glaring at Mellok. “You’re not going to tell they were in the supplies left on Earth, are you?”
“What, no, thankfully those are aboard the ship. It’s more that they were designed for the original crew. The ones who didn’t turn up.”
“Uh-huh.” Aileena drew her face close to Mellok’s beak. “And the catch is Cortican? There is a catch, right? There has been at every turn so far.”
The crate had been dragged out by the two former gladiators once it had been sufficiently de-radiated. They had retreated inside the considerably warmer ship as quickly as soon as they could, their job done. A thick white foam coated the crate, some kind of radiation-absorbing substance from what Michael could gather.
“You’ve got to be joking?” Aileena said hosting an article of clothing from within the crate. It was a long thick coat trimmed with fur. Much too long it appeared, being designed for a person nearly twice Aileena’s height. The next coat wasn’t much better, this time being much too short.
“Why do we even have this?” Michael said. “Is bringing winter gear standard on what was supposed to be a straight run?”
“No, but Cortica is a cold planet.”
“Really?” Michael looked at Mellok. “I thought it would be a jungle world or something like that? You know, because you look a bit like a parrot?”
“What’s a parrot?” Mellok was still trying to scrape all of the gel from his feathers.
“Never mind. Look, I’ll take the shorter one, I am the smallest of us after all. I’m assuming it won’t fit Mellok anyway because it looks humanoid.”
“I won’t need any special clothing. This is a balmy spring day to me. I suggest Brekt take the larger coat then if you’re taking the shorter one.”
Brekt nodded, slipping on the long coat. It dragged across the ground. Brekt gave it an experimental swish. He seemed satisfied enough.
“Guess that leaves me with…” Aileena said, reaching inside the crate. She pulled out another coat, disappointment across her face. The jacket was the right size, but it was a mixture of vivid pink and neon yellows. “What in the Rhythm is this?”
“Oh, one of my crew was a Lythian, their eyes work on a different spectrum. She picked the colour.”
“I hate it.” Aileena slipped on the offensively coloured coat. She instantly felt warmer, and begrudgingly started zipping it up. “Ok, so, plans anyone?” There was no response, the three men just looking at her expectantly. “Ok, fine,” Aileena said with a sigh. “We need to find a way out of this crevasse. The Seeker is in reasonable shape, some light damage but Kestok is confident he can repair it. Our bigger issue is we have no fuel, so we aren’t going anywhere without that. We passed some kind of structure on our way in, in the mountains.”
“So, we climb out and hope that whoever is in that tower has a couple of barrels of starship fuel knocking about? Seems unlikely.” Brekt had stepped away and was running his hands over the walls of their icy prison. “Getting out of here is hurdle number one anyway.”
“Can we like, blast our way out?” Michael bent down next to the crate, picking up one of the weapons that had been dragged out with it. Their flight from Ossiark had left them with a frankly obscene number of guns. “Maybe carve out some stairs or something?”
“And bring this whole thing down on us?” Aileena was scowling again, a look Michael had already learnt to hate. “How the hell are humans still alive as a species if they’re all as dumb as you?”
“I’ll have you know that not all humans are as dumb as me. Wait.”
“Realised that sentence did you no favours?”
“No, I mean wait. Do you hear that? Like, a sort of chittering noise.” Michael held up his hand to his ear. “Yeah, it’s like gravel being poured.”
“Don’t hear anything… wait, yeah I hear it now.” Aileena spun around on the spot, searching the chamber for the source of the noise. “It’s faint though. Must have better ears than us.”
“Nice to have something better. It’s getting louder though.”
Further down the ravine, a section of the wall fell away. It collapsed into shards of identically shaped ice, revealing a tunnel that was previously sealed. The ice chunks righted themselves and began to scuttle towards the crashed ship on sets of sharp-pointed legs. Each of the creatures had a pair of large snapping claws, the ice that formed them clinking as they slammed together. The creatures, six in all, were large, each an identical seven feet high and six feet wide.
They surged forward towards the source of the disturbance, unseen eyes glancing around the ravine’s floor, seeking their prey. They saw three humanoid figures and one strange multi-legged creature standing around a metal container. The prey saw them, spinning around weapons drawn.
“What the actual fuck?” Michael said.
Chapter Seventeen
The crabs scuttled forward, icy legs digging deep into the floor with a rhythmic chiming, like the ringing of bells. They were bizarre things, ice scraping loose as the almost clear shards rubbed against each other. The segments were clinging to each other, held by an invisible force, frozen magnets pushed together. The creatures slammed against one another, hungry predators competing for prey.
Michael didn’t wait. He braced himself on a nearby rock, feeling the cold sneak through the arms of the jacket he had thrown on. He aimed the weapon he had scooped up and pulled the trigger. Nothing happened. He tried again. This time the weapon let out a disappointing whine, like a deflating balloon.
“Uh, a little help here guys?” Panic filled Michael’s voice. He pulled the trigger a few more times, the gun simply clicking in response. “Am I doing something wrong or what?”
Brekt swooped down his muscled arm in one swing, scooping up a large handgun, a series of aggressive-looking spikes jutting from its side. Squinting with one eye, he squeezed the trigger. Nothing.
“Oh, uh, that’s not good,” Brekt said. The crabs crept closer, claws snapping angrily. “Give me that a second.” Brekt threw the handgun to the ground, snatching the rifle from Michael’s. He spun around with his hands clasping the barrel, the butt swinging out like a club. The first of the crabs lunged towards him, the rifle slamming into a claw slicing outwards toward Brekt. It flew away with a ringing, the crab stumbling backwards. Stunned but unhurt.
“Any ideas?” Michael asked. He had expected the ice forming the creature to shatter at first, more than a little surprised it hadn’t. Before him Brekt continued to use the rifle as a club, batting off the claws trying to slice him in two. He was losing ground.
Aileena put her fingers in her mouth, letting out a loud whistle. “Clive!” She cupped her hands around her mouth as she shouted in the direction of the ship. “Defensive beams please!”
The Seeker shuddered as the front landing strut finally extended, the ship staggered upright like a drunk. Cannons dropped out from beneath it, snow shaking free as they did.