Defiant: Quantic Dreams Book 2 by Elizabeth McLaughlin (reading list txt) 📗

real predators along the way as well. One night an opportunistic cat-thing, the creature that our scientists had now christened panthera venandi, found its way into an unguarded portion of camp. It was only by the cries of a teenaged couple, caught in an intimate moment by the monster that the settlement was alerted to its presence. Thankfully it was dispatched with only minor injuries to all involved. The hunter cat’s pelt now hung from two metal poles, drying in the sun. A symbol of triumph for all to see, and hopefully a warning to its brethren that we were armed.

Now that things were settled and there was some routine, we were able to explore the environment little by little. Only a few people remained inside the shelter so there were plenty of bodies to be spared. The potato farm was not only surviving, but thriving as the plants were exposed to real sunlight for the first time. WIth exploration also came increased quantities of hunted game to the point where there was finally enough meat to go around-if very little for each person at the beginning. We were slowly upgrading the dwellings, too. A ramp had been built inside the torn apart ventilation exhaust shaft and with the help of some powered machines, the industrial 3D printer had been brought to the surface. The hum of its motors was a constant soundtrack that gave me hope every time the sound met my ears. It was going to take a long time to fabricate enough housing for everyone but seeing the process actually happen appeared to bolster morale significantly.

Each day’s band of explorers was a mix of young and old, shelter born and the few of us who remembered life before. We would jog at a sustainable pace until we ran across something worth stopping for which often meant that we were doing more exploring than running. The result of such a diverse group was a hilarious combination of people rediscovering pleasures from childhood and the stunned perplexity of those who had never seen the natural world. One of them nearly fell over a squirrel-like creature and jumped three feet in the air. I nearly wet myself as I guffawed, the remnants of my broken ribs protesting the vigorous activity. We encountered dozens of new things along the way, so much so that it was suggested that we take care to log our findings. The information could be distributed to personal tablets and logged in the ongoing history of our foray onto the surface. It was like being the first explorers to land on a new planet. Everything from the smallest weed to the largest animal had to be named, categorized, and studied. Names that I recalled from my childhood and old movies were replaced with new and interesting words. I knew I would forget most of them, but the discoveries were unlike anything I had ever experienced. Hoofed herbivores with two sets of eyes that roamed the grasslands alongside us. Birds with the most iridescent feathers I could have ever imagined. Canines the size of small horses that flanked our groups but never seemed to attack. Perhaps dog was still man’s best friend, even after all these years.

Put simply, this was so cool.

Our venturing out wasn’t without some negative consequences; new diseases and reactions were common. A group of unfortunate souls discovered that a particular crop of what looked like edible plants upstream of our settlement were in fact extremely reactive to human skin and saliva. They spent the next day combing tiny needles off of their tongues and arms. It was then discovered that the plants were in fact extremely delicious—as long as they had been boiled first. The colonists also suffered from a range of diseases that hadn’t touched human immune systems in who knows how long. This ranged from manageable bouts of respiratory symptoms to rather severe episodes of gastrointestinal upset. It was quickly decided that increased sanitization was a priority. Field latrines weren’t working to contain this kind of thing.

While the medical team worked hard to establish sanitary procedures, the daily ventures into the wilderness continued. The group heading out for the day started to bring hunting and trapping equipment with them. There was no use using time and resources without any concrete return. The small mammals that strayed into camp had become a favorite supplement to our spartan diet and the person who came back with the most carcasses found themselves the recipient of untold favors…at least until someone else managed to beat their record. One afternoon I was crouched low in the grass with the full intent of showing the ‘whipper snappers’ a thing or two about trapping. A little chipmunk-like animal tiptoed itself inch by inch towards my snare as I waited with my knife for the killing blow. I slowed my breathing and waited for the tiny creature to get distracted by the bait—a berry that I had brought with me in hopes that the animals would like it as much as I did. Just as I was inching forward for the killing blow a light shone in my eyes so brightly I had to clench them shut. The knife clattered to the ground and scared away my would be quarry. I stood, cursing as I searched for the source of the light. When I opened my eyes again varicolored spots dotted my vision, making it impossible to see exactly where I was going. Ouch. I reached for the knife blindly and swore again as the blade sliced my thumb open.

Motioning for the rest of the group to stand back, I trotted towards the light. When I came to the spot I found that it glinted from something on the ground. I bent down and picked up what looked like a cracked off piece of a mirror. It was worn at the edges but the center was perfectly intact and didn’t look that old. I turned and motioned to the people