Fire and Ice

By Andrew McDonald

Mayday

 

Mayday

 

We are being attacked! The jungle is coming to life!

• Language: English
• Publisher: Words Matter Publishing
• Release date: Jan 27, 2024
• ISBN: 9781953912985

Andrew McDonald

ANDREW McDONALD is a writer from Melbourne, Australia. He lives with a lovely lady, a bouncy son and enjoys baking his own bread (which he eats down to the last breadcrumb – sorry pigeons!). Visit Andrew at mrandrewmcdonald.com.

Book preview

The Screaming Jungle

The jungle exploded around him as the lone figure burst through the dense undergrowth, his head turning on a pivot as the sound of the forest attacked his senses and threatened to overcome his dwindling courage. He glanced furtively around him as branches and vines whipped his hands and face, cutting and marking his soft skin as he ran through the darkness, the canopy blotting out any signs of the sun overhead. He could see no one following, but the distant sounds of ensuing calls alerted him to the fact that he was still being chased by…he had no idea, but he knew something was there. His ears could pick up the sounds of a distant crash as branches were broken in a throng of limbs and savagery he had never experienced and through it all the sound of his own heartbeat resounded harder than ever, deafening his senses as his fear rose through his body. The sound of the jungle surrounded him, pressing ever closer and confining him to a claustrophobic fear as his emotions invaded his consciousness, forcing fear to cast aside reason and thrusting his body deeper into the bush. He stumbled blindly as he ran, relying on instinct to keep him alive, and crashed to the floor as his legs gave way beneath his bulky frame, disturbing a flurry of leaves and spilling the rotting vegetation into the humid air around his body. He knelt for a moment as his lungs gulped gratefully at vast amounts of air, drawing it into his body and giving him precious oxygen needed to continue. He looked at his hands and frowned through the sweat and examined the cracked, bloody palms, marked by the flight through the jungle. His dark skin was scarred and blistered and wounded from his recent exertion as small rivers of blood snaked over his palms, but any time to reflect was brought to an abrupt end as a deep resounding voice echoed through the jungle.

"Feed me," it bellowed deeply, bouncing off the trees and wrapping itself around the bushes, sneaking through the jungle until caressing his ears and teasing him with its menacing words. The man sighed heavily and forced his body up from the forest floor, pushing his legs forward and groaning as the effort to move once again pulled at his tiring muscles, then thrusting a path through the overhanging foliage he forged his way through the never-ending greenery with the whisper of the voice ever present in his head. His path through the jungle was once again fraught with engulfing vegetation as he pushed desperately through the undergrowth, thorns biting into his flesh and ripping at his skin, exposing and staining the greenery with his blood. The noise of the forest battered against his ears and constrained his senses as he looked around him, confused for a moment. Everything looked the same in every direction he peered…green…all around…which way had he come, he pondered briefly, was he running straight into their hands or further away from them? His hands strayed to his head as sudden confusion pounded his skull and the surrounding area spun in a symphony of green.

He could not afford to stop; he knew this in his heart and a tiny voice in his head told him to press further forward into the jungle. Do not stop, it whispered, do not look back. He pushed further and further into the woodland until he crashed through a thorny bush and landed on the floor in the middle of a small clearing. He lay face down for a moment, blowing at the soil beneath him as his chest heaved desperately beneath his heavy, dirty clothes and rolled onto his back, laughing at the overhanging canopy. He snatched at his ribs as they ached beneath his thick brown robes and he struggled under the relief of his release from the jungle’s grip, relishing the sudden open space. His white smile flashed across the darkness of the forest and lit like a beacon as he moved onto his knees and stared at the sight before him rising before him like a phoenix from the trees.

Hanging limply from the branches of the jungle, suspended like a fly caught in a velvet web sat a large metallic monolith. Its wings curled and folded as it hung limply from the branches of the canopy, large dents ran down the side of the vehicle and at the front of the vessel cracks ran across the thick heavy windows which stretched around the exterior of the craft. A large hole betrayed the damage inflicted to the ship as the metal was gorged and torn along the expanse of one side, and thick limbs of a nearby tree probed and examined the hole as the interplanetary craft hung suspended above the ground. The man forced himself to his feet and took an involuntary step toward the suspended vehicle, glancing briefly back into the forest as he walked toward the craft. Toward the rear of the vessel a gaping wound in the fabric of the outer shell offered little resistance to the invading forest as vines and creepers forced their way through into the bowels of the craft as though feeling for something hidden within. He took a final glance around him at the invisible eyes of the jungle and his constant pursuers beyond the treeline and saw nothing. A look of concern flirted across his features and his eyes darted across the edge of the forest as though searching for signs of his discovery and he felt a twinge of fear creep over him as uncertainty tainted his feelings. His ears strained to the distant sound of the pursuit and eventually satisfied he was alone, he slowly moved beneath the craft and hauled himself up into the trees. His lungs exploded under the weight of his body and his muscles strained from the sudden questions placed upon them as he pulled himself into the thick expanse of branches, swinging his body carefully through the leaf-lined vegetation until finally completing his journey.

He sat for a moment on a branch and stared balefully at the darkness which swamped the open doorway of the craft. Visions swam into his head of invisible monsters within, claws and teeth ripping and shredding at his flesh and he was forced to shake the images from his mind before allowing his legs to carry him inside the sanctuary of the ship.

He almost collapsed as he fell through the open doorway and coughed violently as he stumbled through the darkness of the vessel, spitting out globules of blood and phlegm caused by his recent exertion as his lungs were exploding, then carefully began picking his way through the fallen debris caused by the crash…the crash…his mind strayed back to that eventful day. How long ago was it now? Two months? Two weeks? Two days? He could not be sure, it just seemed like a blur now, the rushing of colours, the noise of failing engines, the screams of...His hand strayed to his forehead and he gingerly fingered a deep scar which thrust its way across his skin. Pulling his hand away, he stared in morbid fascination at the deep crimson which covered his fingers and frowned as he realised small tendrils of blood were crossing the ravines of lines running across his forehead. He coughed again, feeling the swell of blood thrust up from his lungs and through his throat and swallowed the tang of iron as his body sagged under the dank atmosphere of the interior of the ship. His eyes scanned the vessel as they slowly became adjusted to the darkness and he searched the mess for…he could not remember. He knew he had to come here, but why? He collapsed to the floor in a crumpled heap and allowed a sob to erupt from his mouth as he struggled to remember, his hands pressing against the side of his head as his frustration threatened to overwhelm his senses. He clenched his hands into fists and hammered them against his temples, pounding against the banging in his skull, and the sobs which echoed against the walls of the ship. He had to come here, he knew that…he knew it was important, but why? Something in his mind told him he must return here…return here?

He leant on the back of the main chair in the cockpit of the vehicle and stared at the small metal plaque which sat on the rear of the seat. Its cold hard surface stared back at him, reflecting his image and copying it with its own. On the plaque his face stared out at him and he leant forward inspecting the words on the metal surface, touching the plaque and running his fingers gently over the dull brass surface, smearing it with his blood. Reverend Dominica Brown…representative of H.O.S.T; the Holy Order of Spiritual Tribute he whispered in the darkness. The words seemed familiar, but their meaning seemed lost on him as he stared out of the metal at a shell of his former self. He glanced down at his ripped and dirty clothing and frowned for a moment as recent recollections struggled to compete with age old memories. The heavy-set brown habit he wore betrayed his position within the Holy Order and he looked blankly at the thick fabric as he struggled to remember.

A fleeting image caught his eye, and his mind was betrayed by the sudden expanse of white material in the seat of the parallel chair. He gently pulled himself across the floor of the craft and turned the seat deliberately toward him, watching with a growing sense of unease at the pile of clothing resting in the chair. He recoiled in horror at the half-eaten body slumped back in the seat, still wearing the safety harness which crossed the skeletal remains of the white material, its face twisted in a facsimile of a grin as the flesh was stripped from the bone revealing a macabre smile. Small maggots played in the empty accusing eye sockets and slithers of flesh hung from the corpse’s cheeks while vines from the jungle outside thrust their way through a half open mouth. Skeletal fingers fell away from the white gown of the body’s cowl and hung limply, pointing toward the floor. Guilt gnawed at his body and bit at his mind as a name swam into his memory…Sister Marie Santana. He remembered her auburn hair as it fell beneath her white hood, he smiled as he remembered her smile…her radiant smile. It seemed to light up a room, just by its very presence. His smile slowly faded as he remembered…the crash...her fear.

The power shortage…system failure…everything in the ship was shutting down…the panic…confusion…darkness…waking in a haze….

Recollections wandered into his memory as he stared at the figure of his companion. The reason for the mission. He remembered the call…part of the adjudicator mission with Sister Santana; to assist the local populace against…he struggled to maintain his composure as the memories disappeared once again. His body tensed as sudden memories faded and a sharp noise from outside the craft alerted him and reminded him to his current situation. Had they found him? he wondered briefly, and he froze, holding his breath as he strained his ears to any signs of life. He could hear movement against the edge of the metal as wood moved along the expanse of the vessel. He held his breath and pushed down into the darkness as something moved outside…something large pressing its body against the hull of the ship. He strained his hearing against the darkness then relaxed as the noises faded, then stopped. He smiled at the sudden relief he could feel in his soul, then at the corner of his eyesight he saw it…the reason for his return…the recall button. Sitting just out of sight beneath the main control panel sat a large red button, hidden beneath a jumble of wiring and cables. He strained his arm and stretched his fingers out, and curling them around the button, warm in the safety of its release. Just one push and this nightmare would be over, just one push and a rescue ship would be dispatched. He smiled through the darkness and sighed as he pushed down hard and watched as a warm red glow emanated from the device and bathed his face in the subdued lighting. He smiled and sat back, pulling his legs into his chest and blew air out of his lungs, allowing his cheeks to inflate as swathes of air flowed past his lips. He rocked to the sound of his heartbeat, safe in the knowledge that help was coming. He closed his eyes and spoke quietly to himself in an almost silent reverence, Holy Father…hear thy son and deliver me from evil.

Fire and Ice

The words popped into his head like a beacon; fire and ice, that was the message…the reason for coming. He still did not know what they meant…fire and ice. He wondered what the meaning was as he listened to his heartbeat pounding against his chest…thump...thump...thump...fire and ice...thump...thump...thump...he paused…his heartbeat? It pounded against the side of his head…thump…thump…thump, his heartbeat? No…not his…not his heartbeat. He turned and stared up…

"Feed me, the voice sparked through the darkness and pierced his mind. Feed me…hungry came the almost pleading voice. Feed me!"

The right Reverend Dominica Brown’s last thought as he heard his screams echo through the jungle were…fire and ice….

The Mysterious Planet

The dark bulk loomed over the surface of the planet casting an ominous shadow as it stalked the swirling cloud mass that surrounded the world. The glow from the retro engines ignited as the subtle change in pitch betrayed signs that the ship was slowing into the declining orbit as the giant sprawling wings rotated slightly, illuminating the deep black confines of space with a subtle touch of orange.

Cadet Joanne Darby double checked the computer display, making some adjustments with a deft touch, her fingers playing lightly over the blinking instrument panel before swivelling round in her chair and then reported in a sharp brisk tone, We’ve entered orbit, sir. She glanced at her captain discreetly and smiled as she stared at his strong profile, piercing brown eyes, and mass of wavy black hair. Her stomach tensed as he met her stare with an icy look and dismissed her attention, forcing her to turn back to her control panel slightly flushed with embarrassment, bringing a hidden smile from her colleague close to her position.

He has that effect on everyone, whispered the young man by her side as he stared into a monitor, the lights casting a glow across his face.

Keep to a high orbit, Cadet, he acknowledged curtly as he averted his gaze to the main screen at the front of the ship.

Yes sir, she acknowledged.

Scans are indicating unusual layers within the atmosphere, said the man by Cadet Darby, his face still staring at the monitor before him.

Explain, Mr. Faheer, ordered the captain.

Nez Faheer continued to stare into the monitor screen, the colours playing over his slender Indian features as figures and information poured across the screen. Nez allowed his fingers to expertly race over his console, stabbing at small buttons while his brown eyes danced over the screen, examining the figures present by symbols and formulas. These layers did not appear on previous surveys of the planet. his silky voice drifted smoothly over the control room as his attention remained fixed firmly on the screen. Original reports show high levels of nitrogen, oxygen and traces of base elements including carbon dioxide and ammonia, but these new figures have changed since initial surveys.

In what way? asked the captain.

Changes in basic elements, nitrogen falling to 60%, oxygen and argon levels increased while traces of carbon dioxide, helium and hydrogen are all present with fluctuating trace levels. Water vapour is variable and there appears to be a dangerous increase in methane, sulphur and sodium gas. Thermal radiation is being monitored toward the northern polar region and traces of solar radiation toward the southern pole.

Potential source? Captain Crane turned to his own computer, frowning as he analysed the streaming data which was fleeting across the screen on the arm of his command chair.

Still scanning, sir. replied Nez.

Cadet, try to establish communication with the downed craft, ordered Crane as he peered at the data, his own finger stabbing at a small yellow button.

Darby worked at her controls, desperately turning dials and changing streaming figures as she worked to contact the ground, There is interference, sir, she apologized, turning briefly to the captain then turning back quickly at signs of his disappointment. I cannot communicate with the ship, and I am finding no humanoid life signs within a thousand metre radius of the crash site. But wow! Captain, there are so many different plants and animals…

Keep to the facts, Cadet, the Captain’s voice chided harshly. We are on official business on this planet, not a sightseeing tour. This may be your first duty, but I do expect a certain level of professionalism.

Sorry sir, apologized Darby for the second time in as many minutes. The crash site is in the middle of a dense jungle, heavy vegetation and numerous non-humanoid life signs. Sensors are picking up several possible habitations in the area, could be local populace or just interference from the unsettled conditions. At this level it is too difficult for the sensors to determine accurately.

Not good enough, Cadet snapped Crane. Ensign, prepare for a low-level sweep of the area and bring the ship down as close to the crash site as possible.

Sir… said Darby hesitantly.

Well...? queried the captain.

If I may, she waited for the captain to nod before speaking, the sensors are strong enough to fix on certain locations, but at this distance and with the present conditions we cannot ascertain exact details, but I can determine that there are no humanoid life signs anywhere near the downed craft.

Sounds like we’re too late then, the captain stated simply. Why the hell would they send a holy man into a setting like this? Minimal piloting experience, no survival training, no backup… he broke off and stared forward toward the main screen and watched as the planet loomed into view across the main visual banks. Nez, will these atmospheric anomalies affect us?

Not sure yet, Captain. It may be some kind of storm activity that is interfering with our readings, we will not know for sure until we make planet-fall, but there is evidence that the planet’s regional climates have been changing as a result.

My readings confirm that sir, but this is crazy, Darby added, still staring at her monitor. The jungle where the ship crashed… She stopped and glanced at her captain. Two years ago, surveys indicated a grassland in that area with a potential for high crop yields and a sustainability of over 75% for any crops. Additional information marked the area for possible agriculture farming and livestock grazing in that area.

There must be a mistake in our records. Re-check the data. Crane waited, drumming his fingers loudly as Darby ran through the records.

I’ve rechecked my readings against the old survey data sir, she said eventually. The environment in that region has changed dramatically with complete changes in localised visuals, Darby reported, then she couldn’t help but add with attitude, I am inexperienced, but I can read data on a screen.

Changes in the environment are confirmed, Nez reported without emotion as he checked his own monitor, raising his eyes to meet Darby’s frown.

It is customary to re-check data at all times, especially if it is unusual, the captain turned to stare at the Cadet, watching her face flush and hands tremble. He turned back to his console, gripping the arms of his chair, and studied the screen.

Sorry sir, Darby spoke forcefully. That is my inexperience showing.

Cadet, send our preliminary findings to headquarters. Maybe they know more about this than they have told us. Whatever the case, this is not just a rescue mission anymore. We must assume any contact with the crashed ship may have been lost for reasons out of our control and the situation may be hostile. Until we know for sure all crewmen will be placed on high alert. I’ll be in my office, inform me when we make planet-fall.

Dust was thrown high into the air as the bulk of the craft lowered gently onto the surface of the planet, watched silently by the trees and plants which waved in the sudden gust of air as the vast metal legs touched the soft brown soil. The whir of the engines subsided into a quiet hum as the craft surveyed its surroundings, watching through electrical impulses and relaying figures into central computer banks hidden deep within the hull. Nez looked at the monitor screen and sat back in his seat, throwing his hands behind his head, grinning insanely. Another perfect landing, he cooed smugly. Better let his nibs know and gather all personnel outside the ship.

The full ship’s roster of thirty had assembled outside the craft – bridge personnel, medical, security, and engineering technicians all milling as one as they waited for their commanding officer. They snapped to attention as the door hummed opened in the side of the dark metal and in the doorway was framed the imposing shape of the captain. He squinted in the sunlight and took his first steps on the surface of the planet, reflecting as his feet sunk into the floor that this was the first time had had stood on actual ground since leaving Earth three years ago. He sighed inwardly and reflected on what he had left behind on his five-year mission and looked across the rows of faces which greeted him. Thirty men and women, each one had made the same sacrifices as he had on this mission, each one separated from their families, each one with their own hope and ambition which was driving them forward. For Crane, the weight of expectancy weighed heavy on his shoulders, the knowledge that he held the safety of each member of the crew and it showed as small slivers of grey hair reflected in the sunlight through his own natural black locks. He stared over the ranks of his crew and nodded proudly at them in their blue tight uniforms.

At ease, team, he barked over the heads of the crew. I want you all to be aware of the challenges ahead of us. This rescue mission has evolved into something more and has taken on a scientific exploration that may turn deadly. We have no knowledge of the whereabouts or condition of the crashed vessel or if there are any survivors, but we must assume that their condition may not be of a normal nature. The extreme climatic changes on this planet could be disastrous to ourselves and the local populace. Our records show that a successful colony was established on this planet and we need to make contact as soon as possible to obtain local knowledge and make a possible decision on their safety. We may need to evacuate at any moment and as such we may need to initiate a mass evacuation of the local populous. The reasons for the climatic change are unexplained and headquarters wants us to investigate. The captain paused, then started to pace as he spoke, his hands locked firmly behind his back. I want a team to discover how to re-enter the atmosphere safely, while another will check the downed craft for any survivors. Further parties will be splitting into units for gathering data, analysis, and diplomatic meetings with the local population. I know this is not what we signed up for, but this is our mission now. Be careful out there. We do not know what we are dealing with. Any questions? His eyes scanned the group, but no one moved or made a sound. Very good, he said, smiling. Fall in!

He watched for moment as the crew ran into action around the clearing of the craft, separating into small groups and disappearing to their various tasks. Something bothered him about this mission, and he gazed into the forest. What happened here? he asked himself, then moved back into the ship leaving a throng of activity in his wake.

How long since this thing crashed? the tall security officer questioned as they took turns hacking through the jungle from their drop site. Sweat was forming on his brow as his sharp blade cut through the overhanging vines which covered their path. He glanced back toward Darby as he waited for an answer.

About ten days, Darby said. She kept scanning the undergrowth for danger, but it was so thick, anything could be hiding a few feet away. I keep getting the feeling that we are being watched, she admitted, her eyes darting through the trees. That is insane! she laughed as she held up her scanner for readings. There’s no life-signs in the area, she said, looking at the small box on her hands. Mind you, she offered, shaking the device roughly, in this heat, I’m not picking up anything!

This jungle is ridiculous, complained the security officer at the head of the party. If I didn’t know any better, I would swear it’s growing as quickly as I could cut it. He swung his blade furiously before him. I don’t know why we couldn’t have brought the heavy-duty cutters with us, he complained. I can’t see how this was grassland a couple of years back, we must be in a different part of the planet.

"It looks like it’s been here for