Massoud (Massoud Chronicles Book 1) Read online

  A number of pod beacons had operated last night and had been silenced quickly, except for one that had taken over thirty minutes to shut off. At least ten pods had reached the planet and were clustered in a small area, in accordance with the usual emergency protocols. It cheered her to think that at least ten other shipmates had made it to the surface. Most of the survivors had understood the danger and shut off the beacons immediately. Perhaps the crewman in the last pod had been too injured or too shocked to shut off the beacon promptly. That would imply someone had reached him within minutes to help, meaning at least some of the crew were in good condition. Was that false reasoning? She could not judge. The computer mapped the beacons at approximately 200 km west-south-west from her current location. The delayed deployment of her pod, and its peculiar trajectory, accounted for the distance between her pod’s location and that of the others.

  Her objective was clear: Reach the rest of the crew.

  Apart from whatever dangers the planet presented, the Xenos remained a concern. She tried to remember what she could from her school history texts. The Xedfoukib were a xenophobic people and maintained extreme isolation. Knowledge of their nature, customs, and values was extremely limited. Over a century ago, responding to an expanding population, they had uninhibitedly taken planets already occupied by humans—in the same way humans took planets occupied by non-sapient beings, she remembered a teacher commenting. However, the invading Xenos were perplexed to find that humans from other planets, reacting to the genocide and colonizations, had defended their fellows fiercely. Every human-occupied planet had joined in an alliance to defeat the invaders. This had been the genesis of the fleet that Massoud now served in. The Xeno incursions into human territory had ended ninety-two years ago, as suddenly as they started. The Last War had been dead history; now it felt vibrantly alive.

  What of the Xenos tactics and military behaviors? The captain had mentioned their hail. She had a patchy memory that they hailed, as a kind of warning or challenge, before attacking. It was some kind of alien etiquette. Humans considered it despicable that the warning arrived at the same time as the first shot. Illogically, an unannounced surprise attack was considered more respectful to the victims.

  A more immediate question was whether the Xenos pursued escape pods or stranded spacefarers. She had no information on that point. If that was their intent, they would likely have reached the remote cluster of pods by now. The aliens would prioritize those pods, some 200km distant, before tracking down the outlier she occupied. It was possible the crew was all dead. Massoud’s stomach knotted at the thought. She queried the pod computer again because escape pods had some ability to seek potential rescue craft. The computer identified a single spacecraft of unknown designation which had completed two orbits overnight. Technically, the pod had only tracked that part of the orbital arcs within its sensor range, but it was enough. Both orbits were more northerly than her location. Apparently, the Xenos were not pursuing the crew.

  The pod computer had another attribute. During planetary surveys, it automatically downloaded mapping of the planet to assist those who might be stranded due to an emergency. With luck, this particular area of the planet had already been surveyed. Massoud intended to download the survey data to the slate that was part of the emergency supplies, but she could not find it. The captain must have taken it which, hopefully, meant he was behaving rationally.

  Her initial data gathering was finished, and it was now time to act. She didn’t need to relieve herself, so she knew she was dehydrated. She took a water bag and drank it all, found a food gel pack and ate it greedily. They would have to determine how to ration supplies later; but she needed this now. Her body had experienced so much stress in the last twenty-four hours that she did not want to exacerbate her problems by being frugal with nourishment.

  It was difficult to pull herself out through the hatch one-handed, but she managed. The cool damp air of the planet washed over her exposed face and hand, instantly refreshing her. She slipped down from the pod onto a mossy soft surface that squelched slightly underfoot. The sky was overcast, but not threatening. Pulling herself erect, she approached the captain. He did not turn to look at her and she was glad of it.

  He had ideas similar to her own. “Massoud, I have been reviewing our potential route. I am afraid our journey will be somewhat longer than the 200km estimated by the pod computer. This plain in front of us,” he pointed to the wide valley below the slope on which they stood, “is marshy. To maintain dry footing, we will have to head north or south. Once we have traversed the plain, we must pass through that mountain range. The range has lower elevation to the south and that route seems to be the better option. Also, from our imagery, the southern route appears to be more favorable in the next valley we encounter. I am afraid I cannot speak with more certainty than that. Our data is limited.”

  Massoud was appreciative. Terrestrial maps sometimes muddled her, but the captain seemed to interpret them readily enough, presumably as a result of his professional training. The landscape was essentially flat, the distant mountains looked unimpressive. Hopefully, they would also appear so at close proximity.

  It was time to say something, to respond, but her tongue was tied. She felt as awkward as a shy schoolgirl suddenly pushed into the boys’ locker room—one full of the handsomest of boys. He is so beautiful, was the unbidden thought that came to her mind. She had never acknowledged it before. Her flustered silence brought the captain towards her.

  “Are you well, Massoud?” he asked, without looking directly at her. “Are you in pain?”

  “I...I’m a little uncomfortable. I probably need another painkiller. I should have taken one before I left the pod.” All of this was said with her eyes downcast, noticing the captain’s shoes were muddy. He was usually immaculate.

  Then he was gone. She looked up to see him striding towards the pod, sure-footed and lithe. It was going to be very difficult to be with him. It seemed he was back to his normal self and painfully passionless. She followed more slowly, her shorter legs and the higher gravity of the planet hindering her progress. She would be a limiting factor on the upcoming journey.

  By the time she arrived at the pod, the captain had the med kit open and was offering her an oral painkiller. “I trust that you find the pills adequate. The med-shot has limited capabilities, and I think it best to reserve its resources for more exigent circumstances.”

  “The pills worked fine last night. They should be fine today,” she responded. She had still not looked him in the face. Her eyes were firmly on the pills, now in her own hand. He handed her a water pouch. He addressed her stiffly while she swallowed the pills and drank the water.

  “Massoud, I do not know what you know of Gnostian society. We are a serene race. We are fortunate to have limited emotions, which are often described as little more than inclinations and disinclinations. Only on the rarest of occasions, one of which you witnessed last night, does this change. As a consequence, when we experience strong emotions, we have little skill or proficiency in controlling them, or even identifying them. Therefore, it is with some uncertainty that I label the dominant emotions, which I feel this morning, as embarrassment...”

  “Oh, me too,” Massoud interrupted with heartfelt relief.

  “...and regret.”

  Massoud remained silent.

  “With whatever lack of accuracy I might label these peculiar emotions, I am confident in saying that I feel a sincere gratitude towards you for your generous assistance with my condition.” He paused momentarily. “Thank you, so very much,” he added gently, “I am forever in your debt.”

  Massoud felt the captain’s discomfort was mirrored in herself. It was best to cut through it and dispose of it as an unnecessary burden.

  “Captain, gratitude may be unnecessary. I’m sure you noticed that I didn’t object to what happened between us last night—quite the opposite,” she added with a gulp. Clearing her throat, she continued, “I think we both saw parts o
f each other’s characters that we would prefer to keep private. We have a modicum of trust between us and I think that we should rely on that to...to help us continue to...eh...respect each other despite our temporary...eh…deviation from normal behavior.” She gave herself a mental shake and said more resolutely, “Look, we can’t afford to be embarrassed. We have a big challenge ahead of us. We need to be able to do what needs to be done. What happened between us last night is unimportant compared to the difficulties we face. We need to work as a team and get to the rest of the crew. Even then, there will be further problems—big ones. We can’t afford to have anything other than an optimal working relationship. I have decided not to be limited by embarrassment anymore. We need to move on from this.”

  By the end of this speech, Massoud was looking the captain directly in the face, feeling like an adult again. He was still averting his gaze.

  “Massoud, you don’t understand. Although I will ultimately return to my normal self, the myash lasts at least seven days. I will need your assistance again during that time.”

  She blushed. “We’ll face that situation as needed.”

  “As you wish. You are in charge, during my indisposition.”

  “I don’t think that we are in a position to worry about the chain of command, do you—not out here?” She glanced over the cloudy and desolate plain beneath them. “I would prefer to work as a team. You are best qualified to understand the mapping and select our route. I need you to do that.”

  “And you are in the best position to make all other decisions. In addition, you should be aware that I am likely to be most rational early in the day and less so later. Please weigh any opinions I express against that measure.”

  “Understood. Then it makes sense for us to start out as soon as possible. Let’s pack up the kit.”

  The pod emergency kit was prepacked, and the only decision to be made related to water. The water pouches contained seven day’s supply for two people. In addition, the coolant system held further supplies, which could be decanted. They decided to take all the pouches and leave the coolant. Massoud was concerned about carrying the weight of the water, but the captain demurred, reminding her, with a little smile, of his superior strength. To see his usually impassive face express any emotion, to smile, was disconcerting. However, Massoud was determined to remain focused on the task. She objected to him placing the entire emergency kit in his own knapsack, but he insisted.

  “Your shoulder is injured. It looked quite bad...” He paused, straightening up from his work, looking at her shyly. They both remembered when he had seen her shoulder. Massoud’s face flushed.

  “I need to carry something. I can take some of the lighter items. It will reduce some of the bulk in your backpack, if nothing else,” she replied.

  “Very well.” He took out a rescue sheet and placed the med kits, the rolled-up slate, a smaller rescue sheet and the weapon in the center of the sheet. He then folded it, as they had all been trained to do, into a knapsack, two corner sections left free to form the shoulder straps. Touching the control point, the material became rigid enough to retain the knapsack shape. He placed the remaining supplies, other than the water pouches, into another rescue sheet and formed a second knapsack. Massoud was acutely aware of how her arm injuries were to limit her, as she watched the captain adroitly twist and fold the fabric.

  The captain took string and fed it through the eyelets of the water pouches, tying them along its length. The string, which nearly every fleet trainee rejected at as a piece of useless antique junk, was already proving valuable. Massoud also took a small section of string to tie her hair loosely. The net she normally used to restrain the bulk of her tresses had been lost at some point. The captain lifted the smaller knapsack, assisting Massoud by placing it over her injured left shoulder and then her right shoulder, checking her comfort level at each stage and gently freeing her hair from the straps. She placed her splinted hand inside the flap of her closed tunic to keep it elevated. He then placed the larger knapsack on his own back and strung the water pouches across his shoulders.

  While walking, they discussed their plan of action in detail, more to reestablish their relationship than to ensure agreement. Their ideas were strongly in alignment. Their twenty-one days’ food rations should be conserved. They would consume a two-thirds ration each day, using the ready-to-eat gels first, partially to reduce the weight the captain had to carry, but also for efficiency. This would temper their need to find potable water to mix the powdered rations. They would work through their own water supplies first, once again to reduce the weight that needed to be carried, and they would look to replenish water supplies when they had only one- or two-days’ worth left. The planet was wet, and they paused to test the first trickling pond they found. They would have to use decontamination tablets, but there was useable water available. Massoud questioned whether they should even carry their own water at all, continuing to be concerned about her companion’s burden, but the captain was confident in his ability to carry the weight without difficulty. He wanted to retain the decontamination tablets for later use. His view was long term.

  The climb down to the plain was not difficult, although the gentle slope to the verdant expanse was pocked by worn rocks. Her balance a little askew, the captain often offered Massoud a hand to help her step down from a rock to the spongy moss below. Once on the plain, they struggled to find good footing. Within minutes Massoud placed her foot into a pocket of water disguised by the stubby vegetation which smothered the flat land. Her shoe filled, and they stopped to wring out both sock and shoe before proceeding. They decided to head a little further south, to slightly higher ground. The captain spoke knowledgeably about the terrain, describing the rocks and the mountains as very ancient and very eroded, and pointing out the advantage that presented to them on their trek. They would have no jagged mountaintops to contend with. The greatest risks appeared to be exposure to the weather and the wetness.

  Their defenses against the elements were adequate. Their jackets and pants, and to a lesser extent, their underwear, socks, and undershirts, prevented water ingress while allowing the escape of perspiration. The material adapted to maintain optimum body temperature, releasing and retaining heat as needed. The fabric was soft against the skin and flexible, while still retaining the sharp lines required of a uniform. They could be in a blizzard or a scorching desert and the bulk of their body would be protected against these extremities. Only their exposed skin would suffer. In addition, the emergency supplies included two wide brimmed hats, made from the same fabric as the rescue sheets. They could be allowed to flop freely, or the brim could be wrapped and formed around the neck to protect against cold, or it could be stiffened in an outstretched position to deflect rain. The hats could also be used for cooking, sufficiently tolerant of heat to be used as pots to boil water or cook whatever foodstuffs a planet offered.

  Massoud and the captain stopped several times during the day, to rest, take water and review their progress against the mapping data. There was no technological means to track their progress; there was no satellite to locate or stable magnetic pole to find. They navigated by visual identification of landmarks. Once again, Massoud was thankful for the captain’s quick abilities in this regard, although she followed his methods in her own ponderous way. If his condition worsened, she might need to rely on her own navigation skills.

  His mental state was difficult to gauge. He became more silent as the day progressed, but she suspected that he was not merely reverting to his normal uncommunicative self. She became less talkative too. After three weeks in the ship’s artificial 0.8 standard gravity, the 1.01 gravity of the planet was grueling, making her body its own burden. Her shoulder was worsening and had stiffened, the muscles contracting and spasming into a knotted mass. She tried to focus on her footing, and the good fortune that her wrist was painless while immobilized in her jacket. Increasingly, the captain had to stop and wait for her to catch up.

  “You may b
e superior in space, Massoud, but on this planet, your physical limitations are tiresome,” he said petulantly. Massoud bit her tongue, not only because her captain would not speak so, but because she needed to keep the manic version of him in as fair a temper as possible. She had quickly adopted the notion that she was dealing with two personalities, not the varied spectrum of a single personality. That way she could forgive the captain for whatever transgressions his unstable alter ego committed. It was a false but useful construct.

  “How far have we covered today?” she asked.

  “I told you just a while back—over thirty kilometers.”

  “Perhaps that is enough for today. We have to conserve ourselves for tomorrow.”

  “You have to conserve yourself, you mean.”

  She took a sobering breath before answering. “We both need to be in the best shape we can be. Let’s call it a done day. The clouds look like they’re about to drop their load. We should select a spot and set up camp before the weather worsens.”

  He made no further objection, but his very body language was a complaint. They selected a slight knoll as a campsite and laid out a large rescue sheet as the floor of their tent. Massoud stretched it out, while the more dexterous captain turned up the sides to a short height and made them rigid, as protection against groundwater. A large second sheet was formed into an overhead cover and made rigid, the edges weighed down by rocks gathered from the broad plain. The two remaining rescue sheets would be left pliable and used as blankets. The only weather-related concern was the possible loss of the tent to strong winds, but the stiffened sheets tolerated the brisk, damp breeze well. The air was carrying a wet mist with it now, true rain was imminent. The decision to set up camp had been the right one. They sat in the tent, eating their gel packs slowly, making them a longer meal, if not a larger one. The captain was silent. She fretted about whatever was fermenting in his agitated mind.