Calypso - S. G. Ricketts (reading an ebook TXT) 📗

at the mouth of the cave and took a deep breath. Thousands of scents assailed her senses: the crisp, salty smell of the ocean, the spicy smell of the earth, the cloying smell of flowers. The night was clear, stars standing out like knife points in a velvet sky. Thunder rumbled on the horizon and birds cackled in the trees. She took another breath, then grabbed the canvas pack flung against the entrance. She breathed deeply, savoring the moment, and stepped out.

The night was humid, the distant horizon already bubbling with the hints of a storm. Bugs buzzed in her ears and lantern flowers folded themselves up into purple buds of light. The world called to her once the sun had set. The shadows and the darkness wrapped around her like a cloak. There were hidden dangers during the day. The monsters walked then. The thought itself sent a chill through her. No, the night was her time. Kira slipped from shadow to shadow, feet silent across the jungle floor. The nighttime suited her personality; the very air breathed of solitude. She allowed the barest hint of a smile. Yes, nighttime was her time. The daytime held too much life, too much danger for her. Here, she could melt into the shadows or dance through orange light.

The night air enveloped her and she followed an invisible path through the forest, pausing under rock outcroppings to search the sky. The twin was still rising, its bulk covering almost a third of the sky. It brushed soft orange light onto the tops of the trees and dappled the forest floor, but that was all it touched. There were no animals out now, not near her. As she crept through the trees, she looked up at the vines and branches above her. Tonight they seemed strangely empty, like they were used to having their boughs full of chatter and bustle. Her skin tingled ominously and Kira swallowed. Eight years of hunting and she still couldn’t shake that feeling. She wasn’t one to scare easily, but the hairs stood up on the back of her neck. She slipped into a shallow cave and held her breath. Maybe she had missed something. Maybe there was a reason that there were so few nocturnal creatures. She strained to hear any noise that might give away her imaginary boogy man. The night stayed silent save for the sound of insects.

Something touched her back and she started. The arrow slid easily into place, bow string taut. she searched the shadows for signs of life, slowly backing out of the cave. It was too narrow in the back for her to go deeper, but that didn’t mean something else hadn’t. After moments of stillness, Kira forced herself to lower her bow and breathe. Slipping the arrow back into her quiver, she gave the little cave one more look. Nothing moved. There had to be a logical explanation. There always was. She strained to look at her back and felt a wave of annoyance. It was a drip, probably from the cave ceiling. Thoroughly chagrined, she slipped her bow back across her shoulders and kept going.

She had ten traps to check. It had been a while since she’d had anything meatier than fish. As delicious as the creatures were, there was only so much bacon-flavored fish meat a person could eat. Kira slipped around a knarled tree and pushed aside the drooping branches. Milky-white flowers bobbed against her arm and she brushed them away. The first trap was just ahead, a little circle of sticks surrounded by string and attached to a near-by sapling. Over the years, Kira had perfected the trap. While not as neat as she’d hoped, it did the job well. From a distance, the creamy string was clearly visible, lit by the surrounding flowers. It stood out in stark contrast to the dark vegetation around it, glowing like a black light. She followed the low down and groaned. The trap was untouched, empty and gloating. She felt a vague sense of disappointment, then straightened. This was only the first trap. There were nine more. No use getting upset over one, she reminded herself. She crept forward and reset the trap, listening carefully for any unfamiliar sounds. She frowned as her fingers slid up the string and into the crook of the sapling. It looked like something had brushed the latch and moved it out of the branches. No wonder it hadn’t caught anything. She left a cube of fish in the center of the circle and headed on.

Her feet were silent as they pushed off roots and rocks. Years of going barefoot had left them tough but quiet. Working alone only added to that. Less of a mark on this world, less of a trail to track her. She didn’t take so much that it couldn’t be replaced in a few days, letting her stay closer to home. Even now, Kira could see the mountain through the trees. She never went farther than half a mile from the base. Survival demanded that it be no further than a few seconds away.

The mountain was one of the few safe places on the planet. Everywhere else was ruled mercilessly by Calypso’s indigenous. She watched them from her room as they patrolled the forest below, huge shadows overwhelming the sky. She had long since gotten over her fear of them. Fear was a crutch for the weak-minded. Weakness on Calypso was something she couldn’t afford if she hoped to survive. She paused to listen and slipped into another rocky overhang.

The night was still. The wind whispered through the trees and thunder rumbled again. She peered up at the forest canopy. The cool rock under her palm helped steady her. On nights like these, she had to be even more diligent. Even though she hadn’t seen any of the patrollers for months, she refused to relax. The creatures couldn’t melt through the rock and the black-skinned people refused go near them. She patted the outcrop’s walls once and stepped back into the open. The natives’ stony weakness was the only think keeping her alive. Without the mountain as her refuge, she would have been quick bait for Calypso’s children. Kira shrugged the quiver higher up and flaxed her fingers. The next trap lay just ahead. A stick cracked and she froze, bow ready. Her breath caught in her throat as she peered through the underbrush. Finally, she lowered it but left it notched. If they were out here, she would be ready.

The natives were like nothing she had seen before. Humanity had run across a few different alien races in its quest for supremacy across the universe but none had been anything like these. The people were tall, close to seven feet, and they pitch-black skin. Florescent markings swirled across their face and chests, breaking through the blackness. The marks reminded her of the tribal tattoos some of the colonists had, all full of swirls and slashes and dots. They glowed different shades of green or blue as well, mesmerizing in their strange brilliance. The people were humanoid, the only visible difference being a sixth digit on both hands and feet. No two people were alike, but she’d begun to see a few of them more than once. Unlike the flying creatures, she used to run across them often in the forest. Their eyes terrified her the most. In her quick panicked glances of them, she’d realized there was a color within the color: gold inside green and gold inside purple. It was eerie to look at. Their fingers were unnaturally long and spider-like, echoing the slenderness in the rest of their build. Everything about them was unnatural.

Something thrashed through the trees above her and Kira slid into another of her rocky holes. The tree shook above her, pale white petals floating down, and a pterybird emerged. Its strange bow-shaped body plummeted towards the ground before sweeping upwards again. Its tail flipped across the earth and she heard a brief squeal as some creature died. The hairs on her arms stood up. She stood as it flew off, its meal curled in its tail. COmpared to the flying beasts, the pterybirds were playthings. Her heart shuddered at the thought of them. They were just as odd as their riders. Her cavern hide-away on the mountain was a few hundred feet up but their wingspan still awed her. Each beast was easily as big as a house. They had huge bird-like heads covered in fur rather than feathers, and lithe feline bodies. In the beginning, the survivors had dubbed them “gryphons” after Earth’s mythological eagle-lion mix. The creatures bore a strong resemblance, although their wings were the leathery sails of a bat, not a bird. It helped her originally to get over her terror. She’d watched them from above in the safety of the mountain, but she hadn’t seen one up close in all the time she’d been at the mountain. Kira frowned to herself, pushing aside a fern.

As the twin planet centered above her, Kira reached the last trap. Fur was scattered haphazard around the trap, tantalizing evidence of a near victory. Gently, she picked up a clump and stood. The wind ruffled it and she let it blow away. “Dammit.” Every single one of her traps had been moved so it wouldn’t work. She squatted and reset the trap, fighting her rising anger. This was the fourth trip in a row that every single trap lay empty. She shouldered her pack again after baiting it and headed towards the river. Her mind was racing. Was something out there sabotaging her? The thought made her blood boil. The fish were the last hope for fresh meat she had tonight, and the prospect of another few days of them was steadily growing less appealing. The wind pulled lightly at her hair, the scent of water cooling her slightly. Her palm slid softly over a tree, grounding her anger. There was nothing to be done about them now. Kira sighed and dug her nails into the rough bark. “Of all the nights...” In the distance, she could hear the rippling of water and her stomach rumbled hungrily. Fish or not, she needed something.

Thunder cracked above her. The storm was nearly upon her. Still, she refused to return empty-handed. the trees thinned near the river bank, their long roots the only pieces daring enough to venture out. Kira silently laid the canvas bag against a tree and steadied her bow. Adrenaline tingled through her. She flexed her hand and grinned. “Still scared of the sky, Kira?” she muttered. Rock crunched under her feet and she centered her weight. Her steps were silent as she crept towards the bank. She glanced over her shoulder into the jungle behind her and swallowed nervously. The night was silent, but Kira couldn’t shake the feeling of being watched. The beach stretched before her, white stones glinting in the light. The river was a good twenty yards wide and the beach was another fifteen. Kira suppressed a shiver. She had survived being in the open before; she could do it again. Cautiously she made her way to the edge, careful not to slip into the deep waters. She couldn’t shake the uneasy feeling. “This is ridiculous,” she said and lowered her bow. Crouching, she stuck her hand in the watter. Usually the water was rippling and bubbling with fish trying to escape. Tonight, the planet reflected serenely off the surface of the water. A sick feeling settled into her stomach and she sat back on her heels. The trap was empty. The wood frame smacked wetly against the beach, smashed on the near side. The back end waved crazily in the deeper current. “Gah!” She slapped the water and flung her bow down. She