Exiled on Unium: Book Two of the Unium Series

By James Michael Moody

Book two of the Unium series, Exiled On Unium, takes up where book one, Pioneers On Unium, leaves off. Greg Vancover, the series lead character, has been found guilty of the forceable rape of Sally Swift, the fort’s nurse. After a failed hanging attempt, the young hunter’s death sentence was reduced to life banishment from Fort America, the name given to their new settlement. If the excommunicated criminal was caught within a day’s march of the young town, he was to be killed on site.
Thanks to past service, the towncouncil voted to provide the outcast with a light bark canoe, food, provisions, and weapons. Saying farewell to his closest friends, the exiled earthman paddled downstream through the grassy savanna into the shadowy forest miles away. Continuing his way down the ever-broadiening river, the cautious canoeist made his way to a locality no human had gone before.
On his own the isolated vagrant must find a way to safely feed himself, while at the same time protect himself from the savage denizens of the tempestuous forest. What would be his fate. To die from the sharp talons of a hungry predator? Would he live to see Laura and friends again? Or, would fate once again lead the wanderer in a direction he did not see coming?

• Language: English
• Publisher: LifeRich Publishing
• Release date: Aug 25, 2022
• ISBN: 9781489742841

James Michael Moody

Newly published Sci-Fi author, James Michael Moody, has returned with the second book of the Unium series. Developing his early writing skills, the lifelong Edgar Rice Burroughs fan, wrote over two hundred ERB related articles that were printed in ERB fan publications over a span of forty-seven years. Later, as the internet craze spread Moody became a blogger both at work and writing. As a teen, he grew up reading Jules Verne, Sir Author Conan Doyle, H. G. Wells, Robert E. Howard, Phillip Jose Farmer, among many others. Like his favorite writers of a bygone era, the Unium series is told in the old school Pulp style. Simple, full of action and excitement, and occurs on a distant hostile planet far from Earth. If you grew up reading Edgar Rice Burroughs’ Mars series, Alan B Akers’ Dray Prescott series, or John Norman’s Gor series you are a like fan who will love reading the Unium series.

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Copyright © 2022 James Michael Moody.

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ISBN: 978-1-4897-4276-6 (sc)

ISBN: 978-1-4897-4284-1 (e)

LifeRich Publishing rev. date:  09/21/2022

CONTENTS

Chapter 1     Trip Down River

Chapter 2     A New Home

Chapter 3     Return To Fort America

Chapter 4     The Lake Dragon

Chapter 5     Mon-ta The Beast Man

Chapter 6     Ri-ga

Chapter 7     The Climb

Chapter 8     X-tung Of Ri-ga

Chapter 9     X-tung’s Village

Chapter 10   The Hunter

Chapter 11   Hunters, Or The Hunted

Chapter 12   The Battle For Le-on

Chapter 13   When Friends Depart

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CHAPTER ONE

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Trip Down River

B oth slept soundly and undisturbed, until the night lookout guard pounded on the gong at daybreak the following morning. Sleepy eyed the two lovers woke, with the early light of day shining through the cabin window to light up their surroundings. Neither of them wanted to get up but both knew they must. The air was still a bit chilly, for the sun had just risen, but had not had time to warm things up. The lovers looked at each other and smiled, then kissed before rising. It was the woman who was first to speak.

I guess I had better get up and get your breakfast ready.

Forget about breakfast, you are the only thing I am interested in this morning, the man teased. Instead of the usual meal the youth was accustomed to, the young couple resumed the love making which had lasted through most of the night. Nor did either quit until a knock on the door sounded, and a male voice ordered the well-built hunter to be outside in fifteen minutes.

When the young couple left their cabin, there was already a large crowd gathered in the center of the fort to watch the long-haired youth’s departure. Acting as if there was not another person in fifty miles, the two strolled hand in hand towards the waiting canoe. Will and Duke helped load their cohort’s belongings aboard the homemade craft, and both were sorry to see their friend leave. Then Duke, Starworth Airlines pilot and leader of Fort America, handed the boarding youth a bow and quiver of arrows, a butcher knife from the plane’s kitchen, a small homemade hand axe, and three spears. Will Rogers fellow hunter and teacher of the departing youth, presented him with a fourth spear. This halberd, however, was custom crafted, and hand carved. The professional woodsman had made the sturdy well balanced lance, especially for his most accomplished student.

Thank you Will I appreciate it, Greg’s voice quivered with earnestness.

Greg, Duke and I both believe that you are innocent, but under the circumstances he had to find you guilty. I know being exiled does not seem to be a very bright future, but you are lucky you are not hanged a second time.

I understand this, and your position, Will. I know both of you are my friends.

Since the banished hunter would be riding in the canoe, he only wore his loin cloth and moccasins. However, his long pants and a shirt were packed in with his sleeping furs, should he need them. Stuffed into large Destra hide pouches were other needed items such as his razor, extra bow strings, fishing line, and rope.

The departing youth shook hands with Will and Duke, and kissed Laura good-bye. Trying her best, the young woman could not hold back the tears despite herself. Sadly, the athletic built woodsman boarded the canoe, then pushed out into the shallow current. He took one last look at his beautiful lover, his two friends, and Fort America. The woman, still as attractive as she was when they landed, began to sob uncontrollably and Will tried to comfort her.

Do not worry Laura, I shall return. And a warning to those that should hunt me, for they shall be hunted.

The slow-moving stream carried the exiled hunter out of the fort, and he turned no more to look back. Soon, the canoeist was out of view of those in the fort, as a bend in the river swallowed him from sight. The watercourse carried the boater at a slow speed, so he made no effort to paddle unless it was to maneuver around objects that hindered his way. Yet he had not reached the forest and the newly risen sun shined brightly warming all that dwelled below it.

As the man passed silently through familiar territory, he occasionally glimpsed sight of several harmless creatures that came to drink at the river’s edge. He felt little fear of encountering any large predators, for they roamed the forest. Here, the grass was much too thick for them to move speedily. The only dangerous foe that Greg had seen living in the grass, was the house cat size creature (Mu-la) that attacked Duke upon their arrival, and himself in an incident afterwards. The miniature, but extremely aggressive cat was too small to kill a fighting man, but their sharp claws and teeth could injure severely.

Eventually the tall yellow golden grass gave way to the mighty forest giants, but neither as indomitable as they were, could stop the river that flowed through both. Soon, a large canopy of millions of brightly colored leaves blocked out all the direct rays of the late morning sun. Although Greg’s vision was hampered little, the loss of the bright sunlight dampened his spirts. When he entered the forest, it was like entering a zoo with animals placed in their natural habitat. The noise of singing birds and chattering monkeys filled the air with a pleasant sound, but occasionally they were silenced when a thundering roar spread through the forest.

The further the canoeist traveled, the broader the river grew. Greg was still in familiar territory, for he had hunted here many times. How lucky he had been chosen to be a hunter, the young man thought, for if he had been a logger, or a sentry, he would have been completely ignorant of the ways of the forest. Now, he appreciated all the knowledge Will had taught him about hunting, tracking, and survival.

The young hunter, becoming bored from his uneventful journey, placed some bundles behind his back and made himself as comfortable as possible in the limited area. His arm dangled over the bark canoe’s side, and his fingers dipped into the cool refreshing water. As time passed sleepiness drugged him, and he fought to keep from nodding off. Although Greg’s guard was not up to normal alertness, he felt quite safe from the attack by land animals. The river had broadened wide enough, so that an attacking predator would have to cover a fair amount of open water to reach him. The long-haired hunter was quite confident he could hear its splashing, should one decide to pursue him. He was also incredibly careful to watch all over hanging limbs, to make sure a beast could not spring down upon him.

However, a large predator is not the only creature that kills in the forest. Even at that moment, a long green slimy creature {Ra-pat) swam toward the dangling hand of the unsuspecting canoeist. An earthling would have described the creature as a snake, although there were more than a few differences between it and its Earth cousin. The main difference is that Earth snakes are leery creatures. They will most times slither away from larger adversaries, if possible, but not this deadly silent approaching viper.

The boater still unconscious of the fact that death was seconds away, was struggling to keep his heavy eyes open and sleep from overcoming him. Without warning a bug (Fo-go), which is rare on Unium, landed upon his nose. Closer swam the venomous reptile. The snake drew back its scaly head into a striking position, with death-dealing fangs exposed. Swiftly and silently the hideous serpent launched forward, mouth gaped wide expecting to meet soft flesh.

Startled by the landing bug, the frightened man slapped at it with lightning speed. Hardly had the exiled hunter’s hand left the water, when he heard a soft thud on the canoe’s side. Greg leaned over the side, and saw the green serpent whose fangs were momentarily hung in the side of his craft. So unexpecting and surprised was the hunter, that he almost jumped clear out of the bark boat. Instantly upon regaining his composure, the startled youth grabbed the spear laying crossways upon his lap. Savagely he thrust at the scaley thing, just as it loosened itself and swam rapidly away. Upon realizing how close he had come to death; his body began to tremble, nor could he stop it for some seconds. To say the least Greg no longer felt sleepy, nor did his hands dangle over the side anymore.

After his nerves had calmed down, the boater began to watch the surrounding landscape. It was a learning experience to view the many kinds of plants and animals that appeared before him. Both looked so unearthly, yet so beautiful. So wild and free.

Greg’s stomach began to feel the pains of hunger. He took some long twine from his gear, and tied one end around an arrow and one end around his wrist. The fisherman loaded the arrow to the bow and set patiently waiting for his lunch to swim by. This was no new game to the archer, for he had done so before, and would do so many times to come.

Finally, his patience paid off and a huge fish (On’ist) swam within striking distance. The gilled creature was covered with many bright glossy colors, and was the size of a salmon. The water was crystal clear for some distance and turned muddier near the bottom, so the hunter’s vision was excellent. The archer drew the bow back, taking careful aim. Then fired. With a twang the arrow sped through the air, into the water, and then into its target. The wooden shaft went through one side of the fish, and halfway out the other side. Immediately the pierced creature began thrashing about madly in great pain, and in an effort to escape. The fisherman dragged the squirming fish into the bark canoe, then headed for shore.

The long-haired youth gathered firewood and put it to blaze, using a plastic lighter brought from Earth which he carried in an inside pocket of his loin cloth. Also, in an inside pocket in the back of his loin cloth was a used razor blade. Being a long-time science fiction reader Greg was very imaginative, and should his hands be tied behind his back he would have a means of escape.

While the fire produced cooking coals, the fisherman cleaned his catch, and gathered fruit and nuts from nearby trees and bushes. After the wayfarer ate, he quenched his thirst from a Dagma gut canteen he carried. After the meal was completed, the woodsman buried the remains of the fire and fish leftovers, and cautiously covered all traces of his ever being there. The stranded passengers of Fort America had seen no traces of any other humans, unless you count Nun-to, the beast man. Regardless, the hunters always covered up their camps, so in the future they would not mistake it for someone else’s camp. Also, if there should be unfriendly people about, it would be better for Fort America to discover them first, then the other way around.

Feeling much better after filling his stomach, the youth launched the canoe and continued his journey. All day he traveled down the broadening river. The current was the canoes only source of energy, for the man was in no hurry, he had no place to go. Late that afternoon the wanderer found a campsite that suited his liking, and he pulled his canoe upon the riverbank. The first thing he did afterwards, was gather enough wood to make a platform in a small tree to sleep on. The chosen tree was not small enough for a large creature to push down, nor was it big enough for a large cat, or other heavy tree climbers, to climb to the upper most branches.

The drifter had decided not a moment too soon to make camp, for he barely completed his task before the gorgeous Unium sun fell below the horizon. Following the sun set, came the two-hour pitch-black Greg had grown so accustomed to. The forest grew silent, and there were no noises except that made by a slight breeze shuffling leaf, and the water of the river bashing against rocks. It almost seemed like there was not a living thing present, the night was so silent. Normally silence in the forest mint danger lurked nearby, but the hunter knew from experience that all was quiet at this time both at night and morning.

Not even a keen-eyed cat could see in this darkness, so all found a lair to hold up in until the moon rose and once again light was upon Unium. Greg often wondered what caused the strange darkness at these two times, but as of now he had no solution. Just like clockwork almost two hours exactly, the moon began to rise and rising with it was the night prowlers.

Although the moon rose as always, the vagabond did not see it, for he had fallen asleep. However, he had not slept long before a monstrous cat killed some unfortunate creature, and the noises of the battle woke him from his slumber. The terrorized camper could hear bones crack, and savage growls, as the giant cat dined not far away from him. This was Greg’s third time sleeping outside the protection of Fort America’s palisaded walls.

The first time he was under the effect of the poisonous venom of a spider (Zabor), and did not know much about it. If it had not been for Paul Jones, a rival for Laura, he surely would have perished. The second time Greg and Sally Swift spent the night in a tree after he rescued her from Nun-to, the beast man.

Now for the third time, but the long-haired roamer knew he must get used to it, for he hoped he would spend many more. Duke, Will and the other three men that accompanied them on Greg and Sally’s rescue mission, were the only others to spend a night outside Fort America. They still talked about the horrors.

The disturbed hunter, after being awakened, could not go back to sleep. He sat silently on the platform and gazed down onto the dark ground below. Once a smaller cat tried to move in on the other’s kill, and the larger one ran him off. After the short spar, the unseen feline resumed feeding and did not stop until the late hours of the morning. Finally, the second moon fell behind the horizon and all the beast retreated too their lairs until the passing of the two-hour darkness.

At this time the exhausted man fell asleep, for there was no disturbances to keep him awake. All the animals, like him, slept. The frizzled camper did not wake up until the sun was well into the sky, and its bright light woke him from his peaceful slumber. This morning the banished woodsman had no woman to prepare him a big breakfast, so he settled for some fruit. Before the refreshed rambler exited his night camp, he gathered some river rocks and formed the words, I still live, first night. Then, after a little struggle, got the canoe back into the river and continued his aimless journey.

A brief time later, the canoeist came across the place where he believed Duke, Will and the others had stopped on their river search for humans. The boater realized he must be some distance from Fort America. Further down the widening river, the transient located a faint path. A remarkably interesting thing, for it was either a game trail or was made by a Unium humanoid. Whichever, the drifting sailor would investigate.

The long-haired youth paddled the bark canoe into the riverbank, and pulled the light craft well onto shore. Greg always made sure the light boat was well out of the water, because if it should drift away, he would be left with no transportation. Walking would increase death risk greatly. Greg donned his long-legged pants, for he did not want his legs scratched up should he run into a thick brush patch.

The commuter placed his bow and arrows across his back, and placed the short homemade hand ax in his belt, along with his butcher knife. In his right hand the journeyer carried the spear Will had made for him. If an earthman could have seen the hunter following the trail, he would have visioned him to be an American Indian of by gone days. Dressed in homemade animal skin clothing, armed with primitive weapons, and his long chestnut brown hair held out of his face by a leather head band. The spectacular figure could have easily passed as an Indian in any western movie one might see at a theater or on television.

The cautious tracker followed the trail for some distance, and found most of the tracks to have been made by hoofed animals. There were some scattered cat prints, plus others he had never seen before. The hunter had gone far enough to know no man had passed this trail, or least in recent times. So, for safety’s sake, he decided to return to the river. The thought had no sooner entered his mind, when the explorer heard the cough of a fearsome feline. At a brisk run, the strong muscled youth headed back towards the river some distance away. Fighting back panic the passerby ran cautious, silently and quickly.

The prowling cat had not picked up the fleeing tracker’s scent yet, so he wanted to put as much distance between him and the feline as possible before it did. Greg reasoned the tallowed nightmare was on its way to the river to drink, and it would be only seconds before the cat came upon the spot where he had stood. A few seconds later the fleeing hunter heard a thunderous roar, and knew the fanged predator had discovered his presence. Concerned, he now bent more to speed than silence.

Greg was no track star, but he was in top physical condition. Like so many other athletic events, running was not new to him either.

As the fleeing youth ran his lungs began to burn, but he did not slow down for he knew death was behind him. Once, the evading runner thought about climbing a tree, but he could now hear the river and thought he could make it. One last bend, and then home free. Burning lungs aching, the threatened man tried to get the beached canoe into the water. An ear-shattering roar sounded behind the boater, and he wheeled to see a flaming green-eyed monstrosity a few feet away.

The fiendish cat (Destra) was no stranger, for it was a creature he had faced before. Last time Greg was lucky enough to have aid come to him, but this time he knew there would be no such