Michael was laying on the grass, its shade just a little bit too green, staring down into the crystal waters below. They were still, unmoving, only a faint breeze daring to ripple the surface here and there. There didn’t seem to be anything within the lake, at least not that Michael could see. No fish or insects, or what passed for those out amongst the stars. Michael hadn’t seen any animals at all, and he wondered if the flat planet was simply devoid of any non-plant life.
“Currency unit for your thoughts?” Aileena said, sitting on the grass beside him. She leant over the edge, looking down at the water.
“Just daydreaming, staring at this lake. It’s nice. A little bit too nice, you know what I mean?”
“I do. It’s weird here. Even the light feels wrong. I don’t think we should stay here longer than we should. It sits wrong in my gut. We shouldn’t be here.”
“Nice and cheery,” Michael said. He pulled a clod of dirt free from the ground. It wasn’t dry, but it wasn’t wet either, holding a perfect medium in between, just like the rest of the planet. Michael tossed it into the water with a plop and watched the ripples work their way out into the lake.
“Just trusting my feelings. There’s something here, watching us. It’s like we’re on some holovid set, or in a simulation, or in some book. I keep thinking someone is going to spring out from behind a bush and reveal it was all a trick.”
“As long as they’re nice about it, I don’t think it would be so bad.”
Gurrit stepped across the grass, feeling it beneath his hooves. It felt good, like home. He missed the feel of the plains under them. The metal deck of the patrol ship was cold, harsh. Gurrit had signed on as a trooper to explore the galaxy, to discover new vistas and savannahs, but had found the harsh realities of service quite the opposite. Trapped perpetually on a ship, station or base. When the chance to step foot on an untamed wilderness had come up, when the alien calling itself the Knower had asked for volunteers, he didn’t hesitate.
Gurrit had argued with his captain that they should respond. There had been less resistance than he had expected. Commander Horsk was a crotchety man, his scales as thick as he was stubborn, but he had agreed quickly once Gurrit had pointed out that there should be at least some Council presence on the world. Once whatever was blocking navigation was dealt with it would allow them to stake their claim on the strange relic, and this misplaced sense of patriotism is what Gurrit had leveraged. He didn’t care, not really, not about the Council. He just needed to get off the patrol ship. Horsk had refused to allow his men aboard the Knower’s ship, despite the rest of the patrol vessels caught in the flotilla doing it, and three months cramped into a ship not designed for long journeys was starting to wear at Gurrit.
“Everything clear out here?” Jurlt said, handing Gurrit a warm mug, the light from the planets fake sun glimmering on the brown liquid. Jurlt was a trooper like Gurrit, and he too had been eager to land on the strange flat planet. In Jurlt’s case, it was about progressing his rank. Being part of a crew that added such an obviously valuable artefact to the Council’s empire was likely to be a big career boost.
“Not a thing.” Gurrit turned his ears, large bat-like things that swivelled around on his head. He had removed his helmet, a long tall thing specially designed for him, letting the atmosphere that clung to the planet wash over his face. He didn’t know how it was possible for there to be one, but that was a problem for people smarter than himself. “It’s silent out here. Too much so. I can’t hear anything.”
“No animals?”
“Nothing at all.” Gurrit took a sip from the cup. It was full of warm sutcha, sweet with a lingering bitter aftertaste.
“That’s weird, right?” Jurlt said. He put his own cup to his lips, before realising it was empty. He shook out the last few drops onto the grass at his feet. Jurlt was covered in a thin blue fur, his face ape-like and tusked. “Your lot are supposed to have good hearing.”
“We do, just means there isn’t anything out there.” Gurrit shrugged, taking another big swig of his sutcha. “Either that or the stuff out there is stealthier than anything else in the known galaxy.” Gurrit looked down at his drink. It seemed darker- the glimmering light gone from the surface. He turned, as the shadow behind the two troopers loomed over them.
Chapter Seven
Night, like everything else about the planet, was strange. The sphere that acted as the planet’s star projected its light like a lamp, shining it onto half the world at the time. This meant that when its gaze turned away, the beam of light was still visible, meaning it was never truly dark. It reminded Michael of trying to sleep whilst someone else was in an adjacent room, light bouncing down the hallway into his bedroom. He couldn’t get to sleep, even if it were totally dark, he had become used to the Swords artificial day-night cycle, and according to his body is was early afternoon. Michael wondered if space-lag was a thing, he assumed it must be.
“We’ve got a problem,” Aileena said, walking down the ramp of the Seeker. Everyone else was sat under Brekt’s makeshift awning, enjoying a fire he had set just in front of it.
“Not even a day here,” Michael said, miming looking at a watch that wasn’t there. “A new record.”
“Just got a message from one of the volunteer ships, a Council patrol ship, from a Commander Horsk. He was screaming and raving, claiming we’ve done something to two of his troopers.” Aileena ducked under the fabric sheet, it had been stretched over a cuboid frame Brekt had assembled using only branches and a thick vine that grew around the trees. She took a seat next to the others. “Hardly surprising, this is the guy who refused aid from the Sword.”
“Happy to use our jump corridor though,” Brekt said.
“Why did he even volunteer then?” Michael lent back, resting his hands on the grass. “That’s a bit of a weird change of heart isn’t it?”
Aileena crossed her legs, placing her hands on her ankles. “Not really. It’s so they can stake a proper claim to this place, plant the metaphorical Council flag. Makes perfect sense if you ask me. Still, though, he’s blaming us for the missing troopers, like we personally did something. I would bet that he doesn’t actually give a shit about them, it’s just a convenient excuse to position us as the bad guys. You have to remember he’s working from an assumption the Council will be able to take over this place, once we work out what’s blocking navigation.”
“He sounds just charming. But why do we have a problem? Unless he’s going to come marching up the hill with his armed men, he’s just an angry voice on the comm.” Michael shrugged. He knew, deep down, what Aileena was going to say next, but he didn’t want to acknowledge it. There was always a problem it seemed, no matter where Michael went. He thought maybe he was cursed, rather than the messiah the aliens thought he was. Maybe there wasn’t a difference.
“Because, if two troopers went missing, something made them disappear. Which means there is something on this planet. Come on, you knew that.”
“I thought maybe if no one said it, it wouldn’t be real. They could have just deserted? Decided they’ve had enough of the Council and run off into the forests?”