Three
Deafening silence slowly filled with the muffled
sounds of rising bubbles. Momentarily disoriented in an ice-blue void,
fronds of vegetation undulated at Myla's side, dropping behind as she
floated to the surface.
Something gray rushed up from below. A living cloud
engulfed her in a roar of violence. Without panicking, she brought a hand
to cover her mouth and nose and used her free hand to paddle furiously.
The little fishes were vegetarians with mouths designed for sucking, not
biting. They thought her a tidbit dropped from an overhead tree and had
abandoned her as a lost cause by the time she broke surface.
It took a moment of slipping and banging her knees
against the slime-coated rock to reach the ledge. She hoisted herself up
and stood on dry land, cursing her habitual impulsiveness. Her life was
one long study in chronic oversight. She had an air-tight hood and face
shield built into the back of her body glove. She had not thought to use
them, even knowing that one of the little fishes could have found its way
down her throat and choked her to death. Events were moving too fast to
think things through, except that they were events she herself had
initiated.
Something snarled and tugged at her ankle. She
glanced down in alarm to discover she had been followed from the body of
water by something small, but terribly ferocious. Although the scaled
amphibian was three quarters jaw with a massive mouth lined with tiny
teeth, the mud dragon's only real diet was a species of fist-sized jelly
fish inhabiting the sinkholes. It couldn't bite through her boots. She
kicked the annoying creature aside, crossed her arms nervously against her
chest, and scanned her surroundings for whatever other hazards she may
have overlooked.
The air-car continued to hover overhead. That was an
unforeseen oversight. Had she expected to be left in peace? The antics
of a spoiled child were even now being monitored by the security forces of
Overlord Khalin Nome’s second-in-command, Executor General Gorlon Hague.
Gorlon would dispatch a team to retrieve her as soon as Khalin was
informed of her insane behavior. She'd be lucky to reach the cover of the
trees in the near distance before snare nets dropped her to the ground.
It hardly mattered. She had committed a crime of
sufficient magnitude to attract the attention of the colony. They'd laugh
at the antics of a spoiled Nat child, but their awareness of her plight
would heighten.
She'd make a game of it then. How far would she get
before they caught her? She broke into a light jog toward the forest.
Let them all watch and wonder. Most modern forms of entertainment were
cerebral in nature and most avatars not made for physical exercise, but
she took pride in her physical conditioning, and they would take a
surprised interest in her skill and her daring. The line of trees grew
near, and she thought maybe she'd give security a run for its money after
all.
The mud dragon caught up with her and launched
another snarling attack at her feet.
"Oh, you pest, go away!"
Maybe down deep she knew what she was doing no matter
how thoughtlessly or impulsively she behaved. Maybe she was too quick for
an old, dying man.
But she balked before entering the deeper gloom cast
by the broader foliage of the umbrella trees. The flora of Covonia, after
all, was far more dangerous than its fauna. The plants lived in nutrient
poor soil for the most part and had evolved elaborate strategies to lure
and trap grazing animals migrating from one ancient, mineral-rich crater
to another. Plant-eating animals and animal-eating plants were the
tightly knit basis for the Covonian ecology.
Myla was proud of her knowledge of local plant and
animal life, but so much in this distant forest had gone unclassified.
Umbrella trees had bare trunks and a fluff of vegetation at the top
forming an almost unbroken canopy. It was dark here, and it would be far
darker at night. She proceeded cautiously forward, keeping an eye for
dangling vines and flowering roots, two hazards she knew about in gruesome
detail.
Each time she paused, the persistent mud dragon from
the sinkhole launched itself enthusiastically upon her feet.
"Oh, you're such a miserable little beast! And so
incredibly dumb!"
She shook the mud dragon off. The tenacious monster
went rolling. Myla continued on her way, but glanced back in the peaceful
silence that ensued.
The animal had parked itself on its haunches and
refused to follow. Myla felt guilt. She had injured the poor creature,
or she hurt its primitive feelings. "Go back to your water hole!" she
called out. She had no time for the feelings of a Covonian frog with
teeth, although it had finally dawned on her that it wasn't trying to eat
her boot. It had been trying to mate with it.
She turned away and took a single step forward. When
the pressure of her footstep triggered the bite of root spikes into the
sole of her boot, she stopped with a moan of dismay, closed her eyes, and
wished once again that she would be a little less impulsive and a little
more observant of her surroundings. Even the mud dragon hadn't been so
stupid as to fall into this particular trap.
Ripping her boot free of the root spikes caused
another variety of root to unfold into the air, tendrils that undulated
back and forth like whips. Those that touched her leg spiraled
reflexively, winding themselves about her ankle and gripping tightly.
The ground stirring at her feet, warning that a third
part of the process was in progress, a feeding pod pushing up from below
that would open beneath her and swallow her whole.
Myla knew better than to try to escape. Struggling
against the clinging vines would only hasten the process.
Myla threw her head back, squeezed her eyes closed
and let tears fall down her face. She had gotten herself into this.
Either she would think of a way to get herself out or hope in all the
names of the gods that the security team arrived soon. It should have
arrived already.
Now was the time for the hood and face shield. She
reached behind her shoulder and tore loose a flap. She pulled the hood
over her head with both hands and let it cling tight to her face
momentarily. The body glove pressurized from within, pushing the
transparent face shield out where it solidified it into a protective
shell.
Nothing was going to protect her when the feeding pod
crushed her body to a pulp. This was all that had become of her precious
freedom. What, she wondered, was so noble about letting a stupid tree eat
oneself?
Myla tried to hold still, but there was nothing she
could do about the frightened tremble of her body. The roots responded to
it, rising ever higher and gripping ever tighter. A mound of raw earth
erupted to both sides of her. Any moment now, she would be swallowed
alive and lost forever to her beautiful Covonia.
