T.G. Liles

A Promise

Petals swirled through the sky and into an open window on the tallest tower of the besieged keep. Piles of the pink flowers had begun to collect in the corners of the stone chamber while others still fluttered about the carpeted floor, dancing with the breeze. Yet for all the loveliness the petals brought the space, they were born on an wind of death. The air was charged with the acrid scent of burning buildings, grasses, and corpses. A woman, clad in a long green gown with gold thread lay across her settee and wept, her long black hair rising and falling apace with her sobs. Nothing was at it once was and never would be again, this was her fear. A pounding on her door roused her from her despair. She lifted her face and gaped at the thick wooden door that separated her from oblivion. She was too frightened to rise, too frightened even to speak. She looked on and held her breath. Another pounding against the door, more urgent this time. Then a muffled voice cried out, “Heloise! Please, open the door!” It was Daniel, he had survived and returned for her, just as he said he would. When they had parted that morning he had promised he would return. And though it seemed hopeless, his confidence had given her hope. Hearing his voice she was lifted from her gloom and dared to hope that victory had been won and they might go on living as before, loving one another in peace among the cherry blossoms of her family’s estate. “Daniel!” Heloise cried out. In an instant she flew to the door and, drawing back the bolt, opened it for her paramour. Her joy at their reunion was quickly tempered by what she saw. Daniel was leaning against the wall and breathing hard. His armor was stained with blood and ash, his tabard was in rags, and the once proud, emerald plumes atop his helm had been scorched and frayed. His right arm hung at his side yet his hand still grasped his sword, which had been chipped and scratched from hard fighting. His left arm was bent at the elbow and drawn across his chest. His vambrance had been punctured by a terrible blow and the plate armor was bent and dripping blood. Heloise gasped and could feel tears welling in her eyes once again. Still holding his sword, Daniel raised his hand to his visor and lifted it up and over his face. “My love,” said he and gulped air while speaking. “My love, the day is lost. The keep is fallen.” At this, his legs began to quiver and he pitched forward. Heloise went to him and kept him from tumbling. She drew him into the room and sat him upon a chair. His sword clattered to the floor. She knelt beside him and reached out to his wounded arm with a trembling hand. “The door,” Daniel murmured. “Y-yes, of course!” Heloise rushed to the door and made fast the bolt. She turned and looked at Daniel, he was reaching across the table for the silver carafe and goblet. “Let me,” whispered Heloise. She went to him and put her hand on his worn gauntlet. “No, no. I’m not so useless yet, but can you help me remove this?” He flexed his right hand into a fist. “My arm…” He nodded to his crippled left arm. “It can’t be done alone, you see.” She nodded and began carefully unfastening the buckles which held the steel in place. One by one they came undone. Neither spoke. Only the wind coming through the window could be heard. Heloise undid the last fastener and took off Daniel’s gauntlet. It was warm and heavy in her hands. She put it on the table. Daniel poured himself a glass. Cool, clean water flowed from the carafe and filled the goblet. He drank, slowly and deliberately. Heloise studied his face while he did so. There was ash and dust caked to his cheeks. Vertical lines, where beads of sweat had run from his scalp to his chin, cut through the dirt and revealed his flushed skin. Despite the mess of battle, Daniel was just as handsome now as he had always been. Though now his face wore a mask of deep fatigue in place of the quiet confidence that usually resided there. “Daniel,” Heloise said, “what will happen now?” She didn’t really have to ask because like all those who lived through troubled times, she well knew the fate of the conquered. He finished his drink and looked at her. His bright blue eyes shone through the grime on his face and he smiled a sad smile. “My darling, they will come here and they will murder us. But you know this.” He ran his hand through her hair as he spoke. Heloise wept softly. “It’s not right, Daniel! We never wronged these people. Why do they have to do these things?” She gestured towards the windows where below the slaughter of her family’s once vibrant town was winding down. Smoke now clouded much of the sky, obscuring the clear blue of a beautiful spring day. “I know not, Heloise. But you are right, it is not fair. Not in the least.” He cupped her chin in his gentle hand and made her to look at him. Her brown eyes focused through the tears on his gallant face. “But listen, this is not the end for us. When this is all over and the veil has been cast over our eyes, I’ll find my way back to you. I’ve already traversed hell to get back here and I doubt any other voyage would be as fraught with peril or uncertainty.” “You’re just saying these things, Daniel. You know you can’t...” Heloise stopped herself, because despite knowing that her words were the truth, Daniel’s reassurance was comforting. She gazed into his eyes, not ever wanting to lose him, to lose their love. Barely three years had they shared their lives in holy union and now it was being torn asunder by vandals and brutes. It hadn’t been enough time. Not nearly enough. “I- I’ll wait for you Daniel. I’ll keep watch. You know I will.” His smile gained new life and she could see tears form in his own eyes now. “I know. I know.” He knelt down and kissed her on the lips. The wind picked up, forcing an adjacent window open and sent pink petals swirling and dancing around the room. Some caught in Heloise’s hair and in the gaps of Daniels’s armor. Spring had anointed them with her blessing. They could only hear the rush in their ears and feel the warmth of each other's lips. They held their embrace for a long moment, neither wanting the other to pull away, both wanting this last moment of intimacy to go on and on and on. There would not be another chance like this, not for a very long time, and they knew it.

Without warning they heard gruff, foreign voices coming from the staircase and the clatter of arms and armor on stone. They were coming for them. “Heloise, listen to me now. I will go out and hold them for as long as I can. You bolt the door behind me and don’t open it for anything. Demand an audience with their commander. You’ll be taken hostage and your life will be spared, but only surrender yourself to him in person.” “Daniel, stop! No, I won’t!” Heloise cried out. “Listen now! There is no time left. Do as I say, please! You’ll live through this.” “I can’t! Not without you! Daniel!” He was already rising out of his chair and knelt to recover his sword. He went to the door. “I love you, Heloise. I will always love you and only you. I’ll come find you when this is all over. I promise.” He smiled one last time, closed his visor and stepped onto the landing. Heloise could see figures making their way up the stairs. There were four or five men clad in exotic armors and colorful silks and furs and wielding long, cruel steel. Their muscled arms were bare from the shoulders and several had prominent facial hair. Yet despite their fearsome appearance they did not expect to see a fully armored knight awaiting them at the top of so tall a tower and were taken aback. Daniel did not hesitate. He threw himself at them with a wrath that terrified Heloise. He struck the first man full in the face, splitting his head in two. He turned upon another and dealt him a mortal blow across his chest. Blood sprayed from the rend in his armor and both men fell at nearly the same instant. The others cried out in fear and surprise but regained their senses more quickly than Heloise would have expected after so terrible a show of force. They tried to put distance between themselves and this mad knight but Daniel did not relent for even a moment. He drove his attack forward, furiously raining blow after blow upon his foes. They countered and dodged what strikes they could in the confined space of the landing but were forced to bodily absorb more than they would have liked. Had Daniel been in top form he likely would have driven them off but it was not the case. He struck another combatant through the belly, driving his sword deep through the man. He tried to pull it back but the blade snapped at the hilt and Daniel stumbled backwards. It was all the remaining fighters needed. They closed in around him. One man strove to plunge a thin dagger through a gap in Daniel’s armor. Daniel caught the man by the wrist with his crossguard and kicked at his knees, Heloise could hear a sharp snap. They man screeched in pain and tumbled down the spiral staircase, breaking his neck in the process. In that instant and without free hand or arm to defend himself, the last man standing pinned Daniel’s right hand with a filthy boot and drove his hooked blade down onto the prone knight. Daniel cried out as the edge found its way through a gap in his plate armor. He tried to defend himself with his injured arm but it was futile. Again and again the barbarian struck. Many of the blows glanced off the knights keen armor but enough found their mark to have their intended effect. At last Daniel lay still on the floor, blood pooling around him and flowing down the stairs, petals still clung to his armor. The man pulled a stiletto from his belt and plunged it through a slit in Daniel’s visor. It was over. Heloise had been too petrified to move once Daniel had left her chamber. Now she regained her senses. She tried to close the door but the brute on the landing noticed her and crossed the landing in a great leap. He blocked the door with his boot and tried to force his way in. Heloise threw her weight against the door but the invader was slowly overpowering her. She struggled with everything she had. The man was grunting with the effort and managed to work a gloved hand through the gap in the door. He grasped at her raven hair and grabbed a fistful in his hand. Heloise cried out in pain and lost her footing. The door burst open. Still gripping Heloise by the hair, the man dragged her across the floor toward the couch. Heloise screamed and fought as best she could but was being roughly handled by a man with ill intent. He overturned the table on his way to the other end of the chamber and sent its contents scattering across the floor. Heloise reached out a hand in desperation and suddenly found it encased in an iron shell, warm and heavy, it was Daniel’s gauntlet. She tightened her hand into a fist. The man threw her onto the settee and took and step back to regain his breath. Not wasting her last, best chance, Heloise spun on him and dealt a crushing blow directly to his scarred face. She heard and felt the breaking of bone and saw teeth and blood fly from the force of the impact. The man fell like a rock cast into a well, kicked his feet once, and died. Heloise was standing above her onetime foe and was shaking. She could feel the blood pumping in her limbs and hear it rushing in her ears. She breathed. A crash from the village below brought her back from shock and she stepped over the body before her and went to the door. The bolt had been damaged during the violent entry of her attacker and would no longer hold. She would not be safe here any longer. Though she wondered if she would ever really be safe anywhere. She glimpsed Daniel’s body on the landing. His right hand was pale and bloodied yet still gripped the hilt of his broken sword. She looked down at her own hand and saw it protected by Daniel’s own gauntlet. He had saved her twice, once in life and again in death. Tears flowed from her eyes but she did not sob. She closed the door because she could no longer stand the sight of her fallen champion. He had done more for her than he would ever know. She cherished the thought but gave no place to mourn, there would be no time for that. She brushed away her tears and walked to the window of her study. Outside and far below she looked for the first time upon the destruction the marauders had wrought. Homes were smoking and burning. Bodies of men-at-arms lay in heaps in the streets. Villagers who hadn’t made it to the erstwhile safety of the keep had been butchered where they stood. Blood and charred remains lay everywhere. Heloise looked out, towards the fields and mountains beyond and was comforted by the blooming cherry blossoms of her grandfather’s orchard. They defied the senses and clashed so fundamentally with the horror around her that Heloise caught her breath. How such pure, innocent beauty could exist side by side and in the same instant as such brutal annihilation was more than she could comprehend. And yet she felt a stirring in her heart and knew that much of life was just so, both redeemer and violator, protector and scourge. She was entranced at the sight of her ruined demesne and being deep in thought Heloise didn’t hear the other soldiers as they made their way up to the landing until the creak of the heavy door announced them. Heloise turned and saw three men, dressed much as the others had been. They had bewildered looks on their faces. Their expressions changed to one of understanding once they saw Heloise. The knight had been protecting her. Such a prize would surely be worth something to someone, and a beautiful prize at that. They slowly made their way towards her. Heloise’s hair was blown across her face as another gust of wind came into the room. She lifted herself onto the sill of the open windows at her back and inched backwards. “I understand why you’re here. I can’t accept it, but I understand it,” she said under her breath. The man nearest her said something calmly in a language she didn’t understand. He reached out one hand towards her while the other grasped for a knife at his belt. “Life makes no promises. But he did, and I told him I’d wait.” Heloise leaned back and tumbled from the window. The last thing she saw was a vision of swirling petals in a clear blue sky.

···

“Ellie if you don’t come downstairs right this instant you’re going to have big problems, missy!” Sarah was preparing a pitcher of pink lemonade in her kitchen and had almost gotten everything ready. She stirred the sugary beverage with a long wooden spoon and turned to her husband. “You know, they tell me she doesn’t have any friends at school. None.” Dave was perched on a kitchen stool and sipped on a beer, absently reading the ingredients on the bag of flavored chips they had opened for the afternoon’s snack. “How can that even be true? A girl her age just doesn’t not have friends.” Dave fished a chip out of the ceramic bowl and crunched it. “Dave! Not before the guests arrive! And I’m just telling you what they told me. ‘Ellie doesn’t spend much time with the other girls in her class at recess. She’s aloof’” Sarah made an effort to imitate the school psychologist at this last utterance. Dave snorted. “What 8 year-old is aloof, for God’s sake. I mean, I was alone a lot when I was her age. I didn’t have many friends either, you know? I certainly wasn’t aloof.” “It’s different for girls, Dave.” Sarah sighed. “She isn’t very social, that’s for sure. You can’t deny that.” Dave grunted and stole another chip. Sarah turned to face him, her arms spread out to either side, hands resting on the counter. She cocked an eyebrow at him and gave him the look. “Dave, honey, why don’t you take all this stuff out back to the table before the neighbors get here? They’re supposed to arrive any minute.” Dave threw his arms up in contrition, “I live to serve, your majesty.” He finished off his beer, put the lemonade on the platter with the chips and glasses, and headed out the door. Outside, it was a fresh spring day. Billowy clouds drifted through the sky and a calm breeze rustled the trees and plants which encircled the manicured lawn. The grass was cut low and looked healthy. Dave was too busy admiring his lawn-mowing skills that it was a moment before noticed Ellie standing beside him. “Oh, hey there kiddo! I didn’t see you.” Ellie looked up at him, her big brown eyes were framed by long black hair. She was wearing a green dress and yellow shoes. Her mother had suggested another outfit but Ellie had chosen this one. “Why aren’t you wearing the new blue dress, honey? Your mom got it special for you.” “I like this one.” “Well, yeah but-” “Are they here yet? The neighbors?” Ellie interrupted her father. Dave smiled at her, “No, not yet punk. Why don’t you go see if your mom needs help with anything?” “I think I’ll go to the tree house. Is that okay?” Dave nodded. “Just be careful, and come down to meet the neighbors when they get here. It’d be nice to have snacks together, okay?” “Okay, dad.” Ellie crossed the yard to where an enormous cherry tree in full bloom stood. A sturdy tree house had been built, by her father, in an attempt to entice Ellie to play outside more often. He had had middling success. She climbed a ladder and made her way up through the trap door into the fort. There were old pillows and blankets arranged around an overturned box, which acted as table. A bottle of water lay on its side in the corner. She closed the door behind her. She laid herself down onto the pillows and gazed out the window into the thick tangle of pink blossoms. Her mind wandered. Dave set his tray down on a table and brushed debris from the chairs. He didn’t want his neighbors to think he had neglected anything. It’d be nice to have another family living so close, and with a kid about Ellie’s age too. He hadn’t met them yet but Sarah had invited them to come by once they had gotten everything settled after the move. He had just finished tidying up when a gust blew petals all over the furniture and into the chip bowl. “God dammit...” Dave started picking them out, eating a chip now and then for good measure. The doorbell rang and Dave heard Sarah answering the door in her characteristic way, with an over-exuberant greeting as if she’d really been that surprised all along. He went back inside. In the entry was a young couple and their son, a serious looking little boy with a bright green cast on his left arm. “Oh, Dave, you’re here! These are the Ryders, John and Mary.” Dave extended his hand in greeting. “How do you do? Nice to meet you finally!” “Likewise,” said John. “Yes, thank you for inviting us over. It’s a shame so many people don’t really know their neighbors anymore, don’t you think?” “Oh we agree absolutely! Don’t we, Dave?” said Sarah. “You bet. I was just saying the other day how it’s be nice to have another family in the neighborhood.” They all agreed that it was so. “And what’s your name, young man?” asked Sarah. She leaned in as she spoke to the boy. He didn’t say anything at first. John put his hands on his son’s shoulders. “What do we say, Danny?” “My name is Danny. Nice to meet you, ma’am.” Sarah giggled, delighted that anyone would call her anything but her own name or Mrs. King. “Oh, you’re so sweet! You can call me Sarah, Danny. And this is my husband, Dave.” “Hey there, champ.” “Nice to meet you both.” said Danny matter-of-factly. There was an awkward pause in the conversation. Sarah broke the stillness, “Why don’t we go out back? The cherry tree is blooming and it’s simply gorgeous! You have to see it. “We’d love to!” said Mary. As they traversed the house, Danny lingered behind the others looking at the photos which decorated the entry. He saw the same baby in several pictures, the Kings’ daughter he assumed. There was another picture of Dave and Sarah posing in front of a ruined castle. It must have been taken some time ago because both Dave and Sarah looked younger. Sarah had her hair in a colorful silk sash and Dave was wearing a sleeveless shirt and had a mustache. There were bright flowers blooming in the picture and lots of other people dressed up like lords and ladies dancing. Something stirred in Danny when he saw that picture. His attention was drawn to the tower. He couldn’t see the top but he suddenly felt a great desire to. He reached out to take the frame from the wall when his mother called him outside. He followed her voice out of the room. Stepping outside, Danny saw his mother and father seated around a wooden table being served drinks by Dave and Sarah. Behind them was magnificent cherry tree with thousands of blooming flowers. A gust of wind caught the boughs and sent a shower of petals down over everyone. Sarah shrieked in delight and Mary gasped. “Oh, it’s just lovely, Sarah. Did you plant it?” “Us? No. Dave’s family has owned the property for a long time and I think his great-grandfather planted that tree. Is that right, honey?” Sarah spoke without looking at either of them, being too busy pouring lemonade. “Something like that,” said Dave. “You’d have to ask my mother. She’s the family historian. But the property has been in the family for generations, and so has that tree.” “Well, it’s really very beautiful. You both have such a lovely home.” said John. Danny came over and sat in the chair next to his mother. “May I have some lemonade, please, Sarah?” “Well, yes you may, Danny.” She beamed at him. “You’ve got a real polite kid there.” Dave leaned back in his chair and sipped his lemonade. He looked at Danny’s cast on his left arm. “Do you mind me asking how he got that?” He motioned to the boy’s injured arm. “Do you want to tell him, Danny?” asked John. “I fell.” “Well, that isn’t the whole story though, is it Danny?” Mary put her hand on her son’s head. “There was a fight at school, Danny tried to stop it. He was tripped and fell off some playground equipment and broke his arm.” “They wouldn’t leave the little girl alone. I told them to stop.” Danny drank his lemonade. “Well, I think that’s very brave,” said Sarah. “How old are you, Danny?” asked Dave. “I’m 8 years old.” Dave and Sarah eyed one another. “Well,” began Sarah, “we’ve got a little girl of our own about your age. Now that you’re next-door neighbors you should probably meet her.” “Okay,” said Danny. His mother cleared her throat and eyed her son. “I mean, yes, I’d like that. Thank you.” Sarah faced the house and called out, “Ellie, the guests are here! They want to meet you! Ellie!” “She’s in the tree house, honey.” Dave reached for a chip and crunched it. “Oh, well why didn’t you say anything?” Sarah adjusted her hair. “You were on a roll.” replied Dave. Sarah eyed her husband and was about to speak when Danny said, “She’s in there?” He pointed to the tree house. “Uh huh.” Dave nodded. “Can I go to her?” “You sure can, little man. Just be careful on the ladder with your cast.” Danny took a parting sip of his lemonade and made for the tree house. A breeze descended on the yard and showered everyone with petals once again. John, Mary, and Sarah laughed together. “Ellie. That’s a cute name. Thank God we had Danny because we couldn’t think of any good names for girls, could we?” said Mary. “Well Ellie isn’t her full name. It’s actually...” Danny couldn’t hear the rest. Something had taken ahold of his senses when he saw the tree. He carefully made his way up the ladder, wrapping his left elbow around each wrung to steady himself as he climbed. He felt as if he had been here before, done this before, seen this before. He couldn’t place it but deep inside he knew that he’d searched for this moment, waited for its arrival a long, long time. At last he reached the trap door. He knocked but heard nothing. He knocked again and said, “Ellie? Can I come in?” The door swung open and Danny found himself looking at a pretty young girl wearing a green dress. She had long black hair and big brown eyes. She gazed into his own eyes and a look of shock came over her. She recoiled in fright and retreated into the fort. Tears began to form in her eyes. Danny crawled into the room and closed the door behind him. He looked at this girl whom he had never before met but whom he knew. But how? He sat back against the wall opposite her and they stared at one another. A gust of wind shook the tree and a blast of petals rained into the small chamber and suddenly he knew. The realization was like being plunged into an ice bath. His heart skipped a beat. “Heloise. I’ve come back.” She wiped tears from her eyes and nodded at him. “I know. You promised you would. Oh Daniel, how long has it been?” “I’m not sure, really.” “C-can you stay?” “Yes, I live just over there.” He gestured to the house across the road, visibly just through the branches on the far side of the yard. “Don’t ever leave me like that again. Do you promise?” “I promise. I promise.”

Dave was enjoying his second glass of lemonade when he glanced at the tree house and noticed Danny and Ellie leaning out the windows holding hands and smiling. They were speaking and Ellie laughed and put her head against Danny’s shoulder. “Hey, look at that,” he elbowed his wife. “Aww, that’s so cute. They’re sweethearts already!” Sarah laughed. Mary and John turned to look and both smiled. “Who knows,” said Sarah, “maybe we’re wittiness to the start of a beautiful relationship.” They all laughed and clinked their glasses, toasting to the young lovers and were showered by the petals of a beautiful spring day.

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Venom

“Does anyone want to say a few words?” Half listening, Conrad shifted his weight nervously from one leg to the other. He had been staring at a point halfway between between his two feet during the beginning of the service and if no one knew better it would seem he kept his head bowed out of reverence for the dead. Unfortunately, everyone knew better and Conrad didn't have to look up to know that every set of eyes of those in attendance were fixed on him, expecting those few words. The red stone scraped beneath his boots and at length he looked up at the fresh cairn that he and his colleagues had only moments before finished piling atop the body of Jonas. No one spoke, but Conrad confirmed his suspicions when finally he met the eyes of his friends. Each was staring right at him and on each face a mask of emotion: pity, anger, but above all, sadness. Jonas was well liked and his death was entirely preventable and entirely Conrad's fault. He and Jonas had been paired that morning to continue excavations on the western ridge overlooking the dunes. They were clearing stone, and searching for pre-cataclysm artifacts. Long before, and ancient race had established a city of sorts on this desert world. Orbital surveys had found the ruins of many structures buried in the rock at the edge of the expanse. Terraforming operations were halted, Spacetech called in a team of archeologists, and the first concerted study of extrasolarian civilization had begun. They were all part of a team of scientists pulled from various disciplines. Jonas had been their mineralogist while Conrad specialized in cryptology and linguistics. In total their expedition had twenty members on the ground and another one-hundred stationed on the frigate in high orbit above the desolate planet, they were the support crew. Together they documented, cataloged, and stored any and all findings. For the past several weeks, the ground team had been going out in pairs and taking seismic readings and core samples, trying to determine the age and extent of the ruins. So far their preliminary findings suggested that the city had been abandoned approximately fifteen-thousand years prior and extended nearly a mile underground. Conrad and Jonas had been selected to take more core samples and place small blasting caps to clear some loose stone covering a partially exposed structure. They were paired for no better reason than sitting next to each other at breakfast. Chance had brought them together and now Jonas was dead. Conrad cleared his throat, an activity that produced more sound than he had intended, and stared at the cairn. “I'm sorry Jonas. We hadn- I mean, we weren't...” he stopped. He couldn't think of what to say. At that instant, the most pressing thought going through his mind was the incredible heat and how he hadn't touched his canteen in over an hour. The moments seemed to stretch on for years and still not a word from anyone, when at last Jefferson, their project leader, spoke, “Jonas was a good team member and worked tirelessly on this project from day one. But he of course knew the risks, as do we all. He and his expertise will be sorely missed.” With that he turned and headed back to the dunes and their mobile habitat. The rest of the team followed, leaving Conrad alone with the cairn. He stood motionless for a time. Conrad wanted desperately this death to mean something more than inherent risk on an alien world but couldn't bring himself to see it any other way. It would be a lonely grave on a world far from home. He grasped his canteen and drained its contents. It tasted brackish and was not nearly as refreshing as he would have liked. He returned it to his satchel and saw Jonas' gloves there at the bottom of his bag. He pulled them out and stared at the red dust staining the carbon weave fabric. Before he realized it, tears were streaming down his face. “I'm so sorry, Jonas. I never meant for this to have happened...” He placed the pair of gloves on the top of the stone pile and followed his colleagues footprints back towards the dunes, his tears drying on his face in the desert air.

He stood alone in a dark corridor, his eyes unable to adjust to the Stygian black. With no clear idea how he had come to this place, or for what reason, his hand went instinctively to his belt and his communications unit. But when his fingers failed to grasp but air he began to worry. Without belt, torch, or pack, Conrad began an unsteady march forward, his hands thrust out in front, occasionally brushing the slick walls to guide his way. On and on he walked, confused and uneasy, until at last a light began to illuminate his surroundings. It seemed to come from everywhere and nowhere at once, almost as a fog inflamed. The change was gradual but realization came swiftly. The walls began to slither and wreathe, a chamber of worms, dark as obsidian. Conrad opened his mouth to cry out but was paralyzed with fear and managed only a quick exhalation of breath. In this moment the corridor began to narrow, the walls close in on him, and suddenly he knew his doom approached. Panicked, he pushed his hands against that mass of tangled veins but quickly was trapped and could not pull himself free. He fought and and kicked and pushed but succeeded only in driving himself deeper into that nest of worms. As the far wall began pressing against his back he could feel the slick bodies of the creatures grow coarse and tighten around his limbs, ripping skin and hair, and breaking bones. When at last he could stand no more torment, the earth opened beneath him suddenly and he was falling at terrible velocity, as if through a cloud. Looking down, he saw from whence the fog had come. It was steaming out of the eyes and nose of a viper of gargantuan size, a true leviathan. Though still far below, the serpent uncoiled and lifted its head to intercept Conrad on his plunge. With the beast just below, its mouth opened to reveal a forest of daggers and at its center a pit of boiling flame. At the last moment Conrad covered his eyes and screamed.

The air was cool and the familiar hum of the environment pumps was more calming than anything else could have been. His sheets saturated with sweat, Conrad sat up in his bunk and looked about his meager cabin. For the moment it was dim and cramped but not altogether uncomfortable. His satchel, boots, and survey jacket lay in a heap next to his spartan washbasin. He ran his hands through his dusty hair and a violent shiver shook his body, the nightmare all too fresh in his mind. “Command: light.” The half-dome lamp set into the bulkhead bloomed into an orb of bronze light. Conrad took the few steps to his faucet and washed his face, then checked the time. It was just after two in the morning. Sunrise wouldn't commence for another five hours and for that Conrad was grateful. In the quiet dark, life seemed small and easy to comprehend. Soon enough however, the merciless star would rise above the far horizon and things would once again take their usual form, clear and visible, casting dark shadows. The small speaker box set above his corner table chimed and broke Conrad's trance, “You have an elevated heart rate, Dr. Blackwell. Would you like a sedative?” Conrad, startled at first, dried his face with a small towel and then tossed it into the sink. “No, thank you, Mira.” “Very good, Dr. Blackwell. Breakfast will not be served for another three hours and fifty-four minutes, but if you are hungry I can warm a ration for you.” “Maybe later.” Conrad reflected for a moment. “Tell me, is all the crew still asleep?” “All members, save two, are asleep in their cabins, you and Dr. Crowe, who is currently on deck.” “Thank you, Mira. That will be all.” The speaker chimed off and Conrad was alone, as alone as he could be with a computer overseer monitoring his every function on board. He closed his eyes and visions of that corridor of worms flooded his mind once more. He reached for his boots and pulled on his jacket then headed for the top deck.

Conrad was met with a gentle breeze as he opened the top hatch. The air was warm and arid despite the blackness of night. He got to his feet, closed the hatch, and made his way across the deck towards a dark figure stooped in a chair. But before he made it halfway he was stopped dead in his tracks. A sudden, agonizing cry went up from the direction of the ridge. It was shrill and full of terror. Conrad knew it could never have come from any human throat, but something about it was hauntingly familiar and hearing it shook him to his bones. A gruff voice, as if in answer to Conrad's unasked question, then spoke, “One of those critters, getting bitten by that serpent of yours.” Conrad was stunned. There was no way anyone else could have known about his dream. It was a long moment before he realized what Dr. Crowe had meant. Henry Crowe was the teams naturalist and had busied himself with studying the local ecology ever since they made landfall, taking little part in the cartography and seismic surveys. In this area, the rocks near the dunes, Henry had cataloged two predominant animal species. The first was a small pig-like creature with tusks, about the size of a football. They were burrowers and lived in colonies in an among the many caves found in the ridge of crimson stone. They contended themselves to burrow, sleep in the shade, and feast on the thick roots of the scrub grass that grew wherever the earth was soft and not too sandy. The other was a snake-like beast, nearly two meters in length. Its body was segmented, much like a millipede, and covered with flat, armored plates, jet black and gleaming like a beetle's carapace. It was slow in comparison with true snakes but very aggressive and could deliver a deadly venom from a long retractable tooth. It would hide on the edge of a crevasse or cave opening and wait for its prey to stumble into range, then strike. Conrad reached Henry's side and saw that he was sketching the alien sky by the pale light of the planet's single, ringed moon. Henry never stopped penciling and didn't look up to meet Conrad's gaze. “Can't sleep either, huh?” Henry began on a particularly bright constellation, his hand dancing over the paper with more dexterity than Conrad would have given him credit for. “No, I... No.” Conrad was unable to put to words what exactly had driven him up here, seeking solitude yet finding the company of another. “After what happened today, can't say I blame you. Don't feel too bad though. It wasn't your fault, not really.” “I should have said something, earlier I mean.” Conrad remembered his friends faces and was saddened by what they must think of him. “At the service? You were alright, for what's it worth. I know they expected something from you, but if they really knew what it does to you... dying like that I mean. What could you say?” Conrad could only nod. He glanced back over his shoulder towards the ridge, its silhouette stood over them like a looming giant threatening to crush the mobile habitat. Henry put down his pad and pencil and reached into his front pocket for a cigarette and lighter, reclining a bit in his chair. The flame cast dark shadows across Henry's face as he lit it and Henry couldn't help but think of his dream again, falling into that barbed, living inferno. “It's an incredibly sophisticated toxin actually. I've never seen anything quite like it before.” “So you've seen those pigs get bitten?” Conrad asked. “Mmhmm.” Henry exhaled a cloud of blue smoke. “In essence it triggers an extreme panic respond which will cause the victim to flee. So in the case of those critters it means running back into the den. But that's just the beginning. The victim will then begin to sweat profusely, which of course would contribute to dehydration-” “I thought it was just the heat. When I saw Jonas...” Henry shook his head, taking another drag. “I ran a series of behavioral experiments in the lab yesterday with captured specimens and it'll happen every time. In the end the venom will cause cardiac arrest, but the victims perspiration contains a derivative of the toxin which causes a paralysis, so anyone that comes into contact with the victim is seriously at risk.” “Total paralysis? They suffocate or something?” Conrad wasn't enjoying this conversation but his curiously drove his questions, trying to make sense of Jonas' death. Henry waved his hand, “No, not total. It's temporary, wears off eventually. But once the victim runs home and touches all of his den mates the serpent just goes in after him and takes his time eating them all, one after the other.” “Eaten alive you mean?” Conrad grimaced. “Yes.” A moment passed and neither of them said anything. Conrad had seen many of those pigs hopping from rock to rock, totally fearless of he and his team members. They were a nuisance in some ways just by the sheer number of them getting in the way. He had seen, more than a few times, them getting caught in the blast radius of a blasting cap or falling into the holes left behind from the core samples. Stupid as they may be, Conrad found himself sympathizing with the little pigs. Nothing deserved to be eaten alive. “Why haven't they been wiped out then?” asked Conrad. “If this venom is so effective you'd think there would be less of them around.” “Two reasons, as far as I am able to judge. Firstly, they've got a very high birthrate with short pregnancies, like rabbits. Secondly, those serpents don't eat all that often. They'll clear a den then just sit there in a dark for a couple of weeks.” Conrad thought on this for a moment. He remembered Jefferson being very clear recently on how everyone needed to wear their gloves at all times while in the field and keep no skin exposed near the ground. No one, excepting Henry, was allowed to interfere with the local fauna either so when a pig decided to nap on a blasting cap you couldn't chase him off, much less touch him. “That's why Jeff didn't want us going out without gloves.” said Conrad. “I told him about the toxins in their sweat as a precaution. Though, I doubt, given our size, it would be nearly as dangerous for us. You've really only got to worry about a direct bite.” Henry finished his cigarette and began fishing for another. “Any chance on finding an anti-venom?” Conrad tried to sound casual but his emotion betrayed him. Since Jonas had died he had to know if such a death could be prevented in the future. “Unfortunately not. I'm not well equipped for synthesizing anti-venoms and toxicology isn't my specialty besides.” Henry was about to light his second cigarette when he stopped and turned to look at Conrad for the first time since he had come on deck. “What is it?” “Conrad, the other day I ran an autopsy on one of our captured serpents. I had fed it one of the lab rats the day before you see and when I removed the poison gland I noticed a small reservoir of blood held in a sort of solution. I did some tests and found it was rat blood and further that the serpent's gland was reacting to the rat DNA. The glands were producing a new form of the venom designed, it would seem, to be most fatal to the rat. It was tailoring its venom to match its prey on a genetic level. I wasn't sure what to make of it until just now.” “I'm not sure I follow you, Henry.” “If I could get my hands on the serpent that bit Jonas, I might be able to work up an antidote.” Conrad realized suddenly that if ever Jonas' death were to mean something more, this was it. Chances were good that excavations would be going on for years to come and that meant many more researchers and potentially more deaths. “But how could we tell one from the others? Those serpents, they all look alike.” Henry lit his cigarette and paused, thinking. “Well, they're very territorial. If you remember where Jonas was bitten it stands to reason that the serpent is still near that area.” “I could definitely take you up there in the morning but I doub-” “No, you don't understand,” interrupted Henry. “If we wait it could find some pig in the mean time, take over the den, and we wouldn’t see it for weeks. I need it now while its glands are still processing Jonas' blood. We'll lose our best chance if we wait too long. Hell, it could be too late already.” Conrad crossed his arms. “Henry, I'm all for doing this but Mira wont like us leaving in the middle of the night. She'll wake Jefferson the moment we open the surface hatch.” Henry closed his eyes, taking a long drag off his thin cigarette. “She only keeps track of us on board, if we leave from up here, say with the climbing gear...” “She'd still think we were up here.” Conrad was heading for the hatch, he knew then what had to be done. Henry reached for his notebook, stubbing out his cigarette. He followed Conrad down the ladder. “I never really liked snakes anyway.”

Conrad and Henry reached the desert floor, after having retrieved their equipment, in just under fifteen minutes. They had fixed a rope to the top railing of the habitat and slowly descended the two-hundred feet to the dry surface without alerting either the team or Mira. Once there, they walked in silence across the dunes toward the base of the ridge. Then they would take the meandering path that would lead them past Jonas' grave and ultimately to the site of his death. Each man halted at the base of the outcropping and gazed back towards the mobile habitat. Inside, the rest of the expedition slept, unaware of the drama being enacted just outside. Conrad shouldered his pack and set his foot on a stone, only to have it shift immediately under his weight and send him sprawling to the sand. “Here,” said Henry, helping him to his feet. “I brought something that will help. Jeff had these prepped for exploring that structure you and Jonas were clearing yesterday. They were supposed to be used underground but considering the dark, they should work just as well at night.” He reached into his bag and retrieved two infrared visors, handing one to Conrad. “Thanks.” Conrad slid the device over his eyes and tuned the contrast. The almost pitch black desert-scape was transformed into a ghostly world of gray. “I've walked this path over a dozen times but I never had counted on negotiating it at night.” On they walked, easily finding their way among the loose stone, and soon enough they stood far above the sand, next to Jonas' grave. The gloves Conrad had set atop it were still there, a lonely human artifact on an otherwise formidably alien world. Conrad felt tears well in his eyes but now was not the time to mourn and so he led Henry past the fresh grave without a second glance. The crested the ridge and below them lay the valley where many of the ruinous structures were situated. Most had been buried in rock thousands of years before and those which had avoided that particular fate were barely recognizable; only their foundations remained, squat, knee-high walls sandblasted smooth. Conrad pointed across the valley floor, towards the opposite ridge. “We were planting caps near that far structure and we had everything in place when it happened. If you're right, the serpent should be just over there.” They descended and made the march through that dead city. It was the same site Conrad had been working at for weeks, but with the infrared visor and stillness of the night the usually familiar landmarks took on a mysterious, nearly threatening quality. He had confidently traversed this valley one hundred times or more but now he was struggling to keep one foot in front of the other. Returning to the site of his friends tragic end was almost too much to bear, and so soon after the fact. Yet they continued, a quiet urgency drove them onward. Their footfalls kicked up small clouds of dust with each step. They knew that if this reckless venture were to yield any fruit they would need to act swiftly. Conrad only prayed it wasn't too late. Conrad at last halted at the base of a seemingly intact building, buried up to the roof, its top just visible above the pile of stone. “He had climbed up there,” Conrad pointed to the summit “to place one last cap while I was clearing some stone down here. It was difficult work because I had forgot my gloves. I told him I was going back but instead he tossed me his and not a moment after I had pulled them on I heard him scream.” “Don't forget to wear them this time.” Henry sat down his satchel and trap kit along with two injectors. He handed one to Conrad. “These are to counteract the damage to the heart, should keep you calm in case you get bitten. They should prevent cardiac arrest but no real guarantee on whether they'll keep you alive. Most venom has redundant methods of killing. But if it comes to that, because you'll only have moments before the paranoia sets in, act fast.” Conrad gripped the injector, hoping it wouldn't come to that and wanted to change the subject. “So how do we trap it?” “We'll split up and look in the cracks between the stones. Hopefully it's out in the open, they like to move around at night but they're actually quite slow. Easiest way is to come up behind it and grab it just below the last segment behind the head.” “Alright. And then to transport it?” Henry pulled out a fine net from his trap kit and smiled. “Sometimes the simplest methods are best.”

They began to climb, each taking a side, slowly making sure each handhold was solid and wasn't the lip of some cave or crevasse. Conrad couldn't make out any cracks large enough to hide the beast on his side so continued upwards. At length, he reached the point where he had last seen Jonas and stood, one hand holding the top edge of the stone roof. He looked down the way he had come and saw Henry, about half way down, shining a small lamp into the cracks between boulders. From where Conrad stood, he could see the valley stretching out far below him, surrounded on all sides by treacherous rock walls. He wondered how many serpents were traversing the valley at that very moment and, if they indeed managed to capture one, how likely it would be to find the same that bit Jonas. Undaunted, he kept looking. But from where he stood he could see no obvious gaps in the stone. He then gripped the injector in his teeth, put both hands on the roof and hoisted himself up. He had one knee under him before he saw it, not more than a few feet distant. It lay coiled among loose stone and was so still Conrad didn't immediately recognize it but upon further inspection it was unmistakeable. It seemed to be asleep so, not wanting to wake it, Conrad made his way closer without calling to Henry. He reached out a gloved hand to capture it. Conrad could feel his heart pounding, hear his blood rushing in his ear. It was so loud he was sure it would wake the beast and in a instant it would lash out at him. But yet it lay still, as lifeless as the stone surrounding it; without his visor, Conrad would well have assumed it actually was a stone. He took another step, the creature lay directly below him now. It was easily within reach. Conrad inhaled slowly, the injector still clutched in his teeth, bent down, and deliberately grasped the last segment of the inner coil. For a moment nothing happened. He let out a long breath and turned to call for Henry but no sooner did he feel a quiver beneath his hand and see movement from the edge of his vision. Turning instinctively towards the source he realized immediately the gravity of his situation. The opposite end of that armored coil began to rise and then with incredible velocity struck towards Conrad's face. He felt a sting of pain just below his chin and at once the world seemed to drop below his feet. He heard a scream from what seemed very far away and yet he knew it came from within himself. His hands shot upwards and he hurled the serpent from him, knocking his visor off in the process. His vision blurred, he felt his knees strike stone, and he reached for the injection, suddenly remembering Henry's instructions. But there was nothing and his gloved hands remained empty. Thinking he might still reach Henry in time, he turned back towards the ledge searching with his hands outstretched when his mind was at once seized. Above him, the ocean of stars screamed a chorus of rainbow light and color in hues never before seen or imagined. They shimmered and danced and at the heart of each point Conrad could hear their nuclear crucibles fabricate the universe. A immense white skull entwined with vaporous leeches smiled down upon him. It seemed to speak in a tongue born from the pit, it was beckoning him to come closer. Below him lay a an infinite black space, as void of stimulation as the sky was full, which swallowed all things perceived. The two realities grappled with one another for full recognition of Conrad's senses. His feeble mind buckled under the torrent of sensational paradox and he wretched on the dry stone. He opened his mouth and gulped air, trying to breath, but the very atmosphere was a miasma of thorns which ripped and choked his lungs. He stood, his muscles shaking violently beneath him and his veins pumping acid. Sweat began pouring from his face and stinging his eyes. It was all he could do to remain standing. The cacophony above filled him with such torment and blind fear as could not be described and as could not be understood. Below him lay the abyss which in comparison was a welcoming place. His only thought became escape into that place of stillness, where reality had neither color nor form. He lanced from that precipice into empty space and fell towards what he knew was his only salvation. The wind rushed past his ears, sweat and tears flying from his face. He heard someone call is name, thought of Jonas, and knew he would not be alone.