23. Chapter 23

Chapter 23

Astra

As the pod descends through the atmosphere, the communicator loses signal until I can't hear anything but static. It doesn't surprise me. I've seen enough movies to know that radio connection always dies when the escape modules are landing. I've also seen enough movies to know that if the pod is damaged, we'll burn up in the atmosphere or crash land on the surface. I'm not sure which option is worse.

Nikolai is busy making sure that the aliens who fit into seats are safely buckled up. It's a brilliant idea, so I join him and together, we wrangle most of the aliens into the seats, including the still unconscious snake. His iridescent skin is chafed from where Lizardman dragged him across the floor and he'll certainly be sore all over when he wakes up, but he's alive, so he'd better be grateful.

Lizardman has no chance of fitting into the seat. He simply sits down in the corner and I hope the ride won't be too bumpy. The eight-legged wolf is curled up at Nikolai's feet and the panda is hugging my leg and drooling on my knee.

The landing is surprisingly smooth. There are some slight tremors as the pod slows our descent, but turbulence on an airplane tends to be worse. Or so I've heard. I never had the money to go anywhere by plane. Instead, I graduated straight to spaceships.

The pod's engines hum as it slowly takes us down. From my seat, I can see a gray sky through the tiny window. Gray sky and an occasional mountain. A very bare mountain with nothing but rocks and some snow on the top. Nothing green, which worries me.

What if something goes wrong and Tareq doesn't come pick us up? What if we have to survive in this place? From the brief glimpses of the planet I got through our window, there was nothing green anywhere. Just rocks and snow and more rocks. Maybe an occasional gray lake. Everything here is gray, even the snow. And the sky. It's an ugly, inhospitable looking place.

However, it must be inhabited by someone or something, otherwise the slavers wouldn't have stopped here. Tareq told me they were going around forbidden planets, picking up primitive creatures for a special auction.

I guess I should be flattered that out of the seven billion people on Earth, they picked me. And Nikolai. I wonder how that choice was made. Whether there was some thorough screening or they simply flew down and grabbed the first human they met. I'll probably never know.

I reach for my seatbelt, ready to unbuckle it and go around the pod to see if anyone needs help. Some of the more primitive captives had started freaking out as we landed, and I need to calm them down before they hurt themselves.

A sound from outside makes me pause with my hand on the seatbelt release. It sounds like a stone hitting the pod. Is someone throwing rocks at us? My imagination conjures an image of a bunch of cavemen waiting outside, determined to crack the pod open and kill whatever's inside.

Then another rock hits the wall, and another. The floor shifts, the metal groaning and screeching as it moves over the rocky surface.

Horror washes over me as I realize that it's not an angry local lobbing stones at us. It's the mountain. We must have landed on a rocky slope, and the weight of the pod caused a stone avalanche. The pod rocks from side to side as we slide downhill.

There's screaming, howling and screeching. All manner of terrified noises join in as my fellow inhabitants jerk back and forth in their seats and those who weren't buckled in are being thrown against those who were. Having a panda bear land on your stomach? Not a pleasant experience.

The rocking gets worse and soon, we aren't sliding anymore but rolling instead. Someone's limb hits my already banged up head and everything becomes a blur.

When I come to, I can't breathe. For a moment, I panic, thinking that my ribcage is crushed, then I realize the eight-legged wolf is sprawled over my chest. He's unconscious, blood coating his snout.

I push at his body, wheezing as I gasp for air. Suddenly, his weight is lifted off me. Good old Lizardman gently lowers the wolf to the floor before swiping his claws over my seatbelt.

He's bleeding too, I realize. Dark purple blood is oozing out of a cut on his shoulder but he doesn't let it slow him down. Once he's sure I'm okay, he moves on, helping Nikolai detangle the mess of alien bodies in the back of the escape pod. The lanky Russian is already on his feet, tearing the last bits of his shirt into improvised bandages to treat those who are hurt.

He comes over, frowning at the gash on my forehead. "They gave you some sort of translator, right?" he asks. "There are lots of boxes under the seats which I assume contain survival gear, but I don't understand the writing on them. Could you please look and see if you can find a first aid kit? I mean, even aliens must have first aid kits, right?"

I can surely look, but it does no good. The translator nodes are good at interpreting spoken language, but they do nothing for alien scribbles. "Sorry," I apologize to Nikolai, shaking my head. "I can't read that. Let's just open some and see what's inside." I tap on the opening mechanism of one box to make sure he gets my point. It's ironic how we're the only humans here and still can't understand each other.

Lizardman growls. The low, rabid sound makes my hair stand at the ends. Startled, I look at him, hoping he didn't snap into some murderous rage and isn't going to butcher us all.

He's not looking at us. He's standing by the pod door, peeking out through a crack. A crack. Oh, fuck. The door is no longer sealed, so whatever is out there can get inside.

For now, it's just cold air blowing in, but as if my thoughts have summoned it, something black and hairy dashes past. Lizardman growls again, extending his claws and revealing his many sharp teeth in a snarl.

"What the fuck was that?" I ask as if someone could possibly know the answer to my question. Clearly, there is something alive on this planet.

A crude spear flies through the crack in the door, missing Nikolai's head by an inch. He lets out a girly shriek I'd totally tease him about if I wasn't screaming myself.

Fuck.

Fuck, fuck, fuck.

Lizardman yanks the spear out of the wall, grunting as he weighs it in his big hand before offering it to me. Right. He has claws and teeth. I have a blanket and concussion—a lethal combination. For me.

I grip the spear, feeling slightly better just holding it. Not that I've ever used a spear, but it can't be that difficult. The pointy end looks sharp and shiny and, with surprise, I realize it's made of crudely cast metal. These guys outside, whoever they are, are not mindless beasts. They'll be at least equivalent to our Bronze Age, which means they'll be intelligent and somewhat organized.

Footsteps rattle over the top of the pod and there are loud bangs, as if the people outside are trying to crack it open. More shapes pass by the door, getting closer. They seem to run from cover to cover, hiding behind large rocks in case we fire back at them. As if we had weapons.

Wait, do we have weapons?

There are so many boxes in here that we couldn't possibly go through them all in time. It's time to call for help. Again.

"Uhm, Tareq? Are you almost here?" Please, be almost here, I pray as more stones and spears rattle against the outer shell of the escape pod.

"We'll be landing in about thirty minutes," he responds. "Had to take the big ship, and it's more difficult to steer in the atmosphere than the smaller vessels. Just sit tight and don't open the door."

"Yeah, that was the plan. But— DUCK!" I shout, yanking on the nearest alien's arm to pull him out of the way of another spear. "Yeah, Tareq, that plan is no longer feasible. The door is cracked open and the locals are already trying to skewer us with spears. What are they anyway? We need to know what we're up against here."

Tareq blurts out a curse that not even my brand new translator recognizes. "Their upper half will be similar to yours," a female voice responds. I'm overcome by a surprising surge of jealousy. Logically, I know that she must be a part of his team, but I can't help but worry about her. Is she pretty? Do they have a history? When did I turn into such a jealous nut job?

"Two arms, one head, the normal stuff," the female continues. She has a melodic voice and her language is smooth, nothing like Tareq's growls. "The bottom half of their bodies is arachnid-like. Eight legs with short, venomous claws and a nasty stinger."

"Excuse me? Are you telling me they're mutant half spiders?!" That snaps me out of my jealous obsession. I fucking hate spiders. Can't the universe give me a break already?

"Yes!" another voice chimes in, this one male and overly cheerful. "Isn't it exciting? I can't wait to fight these creatures! Oh, I'm Faelin, by the way. Nice to meet you! Do you have fur?"

I rub my throbbing forehead. My poor head has had enough today.

There's a smacking sound. "Humans don't have fur, Faelin," the female admonishes. "Except for on their heads and around their genitals, that is."

"Hmm, their genitals, you say? That's interesting. Are there anymore humans in that escape pod?"

"Shut the fuck up, both of you!" Tareq intervenes. "Astra. Can you hold on until we get there?"

A spear clangs against the door. "I guess so," I say. "It's not like we have a choice. They don't have any explosives, do they?" As long as we can keep them outside, we should be fine, but if they whip out machine guns or grenades, we're toast.

"No," the female replies confidently. "They have only mastered metal smelting, so you can expect swords, spears, or arrows, but nothing more advanced than that. Their venom is designed to incapacitate their prey, not kill it, so even if you get infected, you'll survive."

"You have a strange idea of what's ‘fine'," I mutter, gripping the spear tighter.

"By the way, do these pods have first aid kits?"

Tareq immediately sounds worried. "Are you hurt?"

"A bit banged up, but I'll be fine. Some of the others are worse. Nikolai is tending to them, but he can't do much without supplies and all of these boxes seem to contain just food and clothes and some weird sticks."

"Those are for building shelters," the female replies, ever so calmly. "Medical supplies will be near the door. It should be a bright orange box marked with a circle with three dots in the center. That's the medical sign."

Orange circles instead of red crosses. I realize I've seen that symbol before. It was on the door of the freaky medical bay where the scientist probed me. Now that I know what I'm looking for, it doesn't take me long to locate the first aid kit conveniently placed by the pod's entrance.

"Nikolai!" I call to get his attention, waving the sizeable box in the air. Next thing I know, something hairy grabs my arm and yanks me out of the pod.