I am posting this chapter now, because I am going out of town and will be away from home and won't have access to my files until next week. I apologize for the length of this chapter, somehow in the writing process, this one got a little long winded. I don't want to go re-naming chapters at this point, as the system I have in place is working pretty well for the re-write. If you just dropped in and have no idea what this is about, please start at the beginning of the novel.
Chapter One can be found in the April 6 entry
Chapter Two on April 12
Chapter 3
Abe had no idea how long he had walked, but he thought it was getting darker. Though it was hard to tell, maybe the clouds were just getting thicker. He was guessing it had been about six hours since he had left the ship. He kept trying to use his compass, but it seemed that the needle was wobbling around a lot more than it should. But it made him feel better to have it in his hand. At the moment it was his only “high tech” tool, although frankly he hadn’t really paid that much attention during survival training when they demonstrated it’s use. He figured the companel would take care of all such calculations.
He was getting very weary of meandering through the shrubs as they very effectively kept him from walking in a straight line. And they also kept his eyes focused on the ground more than the horizon. He stopped for a break and sat down laying his compass next to his pack. He had a small drink of water, which tasted incredibly stale. He ate a few bites from a food bar trying to be us frugal as possible, even though he was very hungry from his long hibernation. The mountain range still looked miles and miles away. He decided to take a short nap and pulled his hat down over his eyes and leaned back on the pack and went to sleep.
While he slept his compass had an adventure. Fine gray tendrils came poking out of the ground feeling around on the surface near the compass. They grew in a densely matted mass eventually covering the instrument completely and then, fairly quickly, pulled it underground, leaving only a faintly disturbed area of soil in its wake. This whole process took about ten minutes.
Abe woke a few moments after this mini-drama had played itself out and perceiving it to be darker still, decided to get a few more miles in before night fell. He pulled his pack upright to put it on and felt around for his compass.
He stood up and walked all around in a circle searching for the now missing compass. He checked the pockets in his pants and jacket with no luck. After the third search he gave it up in total puzzlement. "I know I put that thing down right here." He said aloud. He didn’t have time to worry about it now. And frankly in his present state, the mental activity was a strain. He located a specific feature on the mountain range and used that as his point of reference. He marched on as darkness slowly fell.
Finally when he could barely make out the shrubs ahead of him he found the biggest clearing he could and set up his mini shelter. The pop-up structure was big enough for two people. He pulled his pack inside and hunkered down with a survival blanket. Unsnapping the companel receiver, he laid it carefully on top of his pack. He made a spartan meal of half a food bar and drank several swallows of water before collapsing into a deep sleep.
* * * *
Some hours later he was awakened by the sound of ripping nylon. It was pitch black. He fumbled for his flashlight, feeling around for the compartments, but instead encountered something dense and faintly hair-like. He jerked his hand back from it in revulsion. He could have sworn it was moving.
He sat curled in a ball in the middle of the shelter and felt panic rising in his throat. He reached out again and felt the mass and pressed on it and found it to be astonishingly rigid. He heard more ripping above him and looked up. Outside it was just barely lighter than in the shelter and he could see an irregular opening above him. Something was dismantling the shelter. Slowly to be sure, but effectively.
He groped around him and everywhere he encountered the rigid matted stuff. He finally decided that was it, he was out of here. He stood up in the open area and scrambled over whatever was enveloping his shelter. What was this stuff? He overcame his disgust and pushed on the substance again and found he could lean on it and it held his weight. It was stiff and unyielding. This was puzzling since it was also moving. He then noticed the faint sound. It was like the creeping of a mass of insects.
Desperate to save his pack he reached back inside, but it was held fast by the moving substance. Suddenly he gave way to rage. "What do you think you're doing, you hairy piece of shit?" He kicked it, and immediately regretted that brilliant move. It was like kicking a brick wall. “Damn.” He yelled and stalked off a few paces in frustration.
He turned back and looked for the opening in the top, he pulled on the edge of the now small space, but it was solid and wouldn’t budge. And it was still moving which was totally unnerving.
He realized that the sky was growing a little brighter and he could just make out the mound before him. He was aghast to see that it was being pulled under the surface of the ground. And rather quickly too, considering its size. It made the hair on the back of his neck stand on end. Within a few minutes all his worldly possessions were gone. Nothing left but a scuffed up area on the ground.
He knelt down and rested his hands on his knees, rocking back and forth for a few seconds trying to control his panic and anger. The possibility of death became painfully real. The only thing he could think was that if he was very fortunate, somewhere near the mountains there might be water. He ran his hands over his face, and realized he was hungry and that his usual enhanced mental clarity was ebbing away. He grabbed at his waist feeling for the receiver, which powered the implant. Gone. He was already beginning to feel the first real lack of neuro-stimulant.
Of all his problems, this one frightened him the most. He had grown accustomed to his altered state and the only thing that was keeping him from going into withdrawal at the moment was the natural adrenaline pumping through his body. And soon even this would not compensate for the loss of the drugs.
This “average” feeling was for him akin to depression and he knew there was no remedy for him here, no remedy at all. He was turning into an ordinary run of the mill, un-enhanced human being. And of all times for it to happen, this was the worst.
As the sky lightened around him he looked morosely around at those ubiquitous shrubs and sneered at them. How come they don't get buried alive like his stuff? Sighing deeply he stood up and faced the mountain range that was still an alarming way off. He straightened up and began his dogged, shrub dodging way toward what he hoped would be a source of water.
***
After several hours he noticed the clouds were beginning to thin out and some areas of the sky becoming quite bright. He thought he might see the sky at any moment but then they would close together again. He charged on beginning to worry about his lack of fluids. To keep his mind off it he started making up names for the hairy stuff that had eaten and his pack and shelter.
"Well let's see, what shall we call that pile of crap? Hungry hair? Is it animal or vegetable? It sure felt like an animal at first touch, but it lives in the ground. But so do dung beetles. Okay so it was a destructive dung beetle demolition derby. Obnoxious Roots? Funky Fungus? Boy that's bad. No, it must be a plant like a fungus. But fungus that actually pulled stuff into its lair like a relentless spider? Relentless Roots! That’s what I’ll call them. But why take my stuff, but not me? Aren't humans more nutritious than nylon and high impact plastic? What's wrong with me?” he shouted out to the quiet plateau, while slapping his chest. He realized he had just named his first alien thing on this alien world. Relentless Roots. “Where’s the RoundUp when you need it?” he said aloud. Despite his desperate situation he laughed weakly, then ran his hands over his face. His head hurt.
He took another good look at the mountains and thought he just might be able to make it. It looked doable. At that moment an area of clouds parted and he saw the sky for the first time on this new world. With a shock he saw that it was a pale golden bronze. It was beautiful. But its very strangeness suddenly made him feel more dismal. "Where in the universe am I?" He asked the sky. There was no database to access, no network to check, no results from an advanced search. He was reduced to using his own senses. And frankly, though he never would have admitted it, they had grown dull from lack of use.
He kept moving all day, taking breaks more and more often. He was thankful for the clouds and the moderate temperatures but he knew he was going to be in trouble soon from dehydration. Toward what he thought was late afternoon, he sat down yet again for a rest. He searched in his pockets thinking maybe he had left some bit of food, but found nothing except the TransHuman logo. It lay in the palm of his hand, about the size of a fifty-cent piece. He put it carefully away in his pocket. Depression flooded over him. He realized he could walk no further that day. He unceremoniously rolled over on his side and fell asleep.
* * *
He was dreaming that someone was grabbing him by the arm. He struggled to get free and found he couldn't. He woke up and heard the echo of his own scream, "AAAHHHHH!...." immediately followed by the awareness of a searing pain. His left arm was held down firmly by those roots. Thin tendrils had covered the companel on his inner arm. They were prising it up along the edges. He gasped as the roots suddenly plunged into his flesh at the four points where it was surgically attached. Close to losing consciousness, he let out another scream as he pulled and clawed at his arm. "No, no, no!" Then the pain eased slightly as the roots flipped the companel over and he watched it begin to descend into the soil. He tried to wrench it from their grasp, but it was no use, it was held tight.
Immediately the roots released him and to his surprise, in an astonishing group gesture, gently pushed his arm toward him. It was bleeding profusely from the crude incisions. His synthetic jacket was no help in absorbing the blood and soon he was wet with it. He sat cradling his arm to his chest trying to put pressure on the wounds. After a while the bleeding lessened somewhat. He continued to hold his arm rocking and staring at the nearby shrubs in despair. He rolled over on his side and rested his head on the ground.
When the bleeding had dwindled to a slow ooze, he realized the full force of his thirst and weakness. His head was just inches from a shrub. He looked at it carefully and made his decision. He reached over and snapped off one of the flattened leaves and slowly brought it to his mouth. He had no choice. He had to try.
Abe bit into the succulent disk that was about the size of a flattened grape. His mouth was filled with a burst of slightly salty and spicy liquid. He paused waiting to see if there was any numbness or tingling and finding none, he chewed the dry outer casing which had the texture of dried mushrooms. He tried another one and another and another until his thirst was quenched and the hunger no longer gnawed at him. He lay back on his side, holding his injured arm close to him, and lost consciousness.
***
When he awoke his mind was a bit clearer. He made a move to sit up and sucked in air through his teeth in pain. His arm had adhered itself to the front of his jacket. He had to pull it away which sent him into another wave of pain. The bleeding started up afresh. Once again he tried pressure and thankfully once again the bleeding slowed. He sat up and scooted closer to a shrub and made a meal of its leaves. He noticed that the leaves on the lower part of the plant were drier and the ones near the top had more liquid in them. All in all they were pretty good survival fare.
He repositioned himself and took a good look at the mountains. He could see details now. He thought he saw what looked like trees on the slopes, or were they just more bushes?
Standing up fighting dizziness, Abe began walking, tenderly holding his arm. The companel had been attached to the bones in his arm and the thing hurt like hell. He continued slowly on his way and by afternoon had reached the foothills. The shrubs grew larger here and he noticed more variation in them. Some of them instead of having brown leaves had rusty red ones. He broke one off the top of a waist high shrub and tasted it. "Ah!" he said, Sweet!" He thankfully picked a handful and walked along popping them in his mouth feeling almost lighthearted. Or as lighthearted as a lost man on a lost world could.