Dark Energy Supernova - An Anthology of SF SD Shorts

Down the Rabbit Hole

"All the places I've been and things I've seen, nothing so wondrous have I beheld!" I breathed.

The pilot chuckled knowingly.

"Just wait until we get you down onto the ground, doctor."  He pointed with a gloved hand at a point off center and to the right.  "We'll be putting you down on Petra, the earth world in our little symphony of the elements.  It is also the most Earth-like, with .98% Earth standard gravity, a nitrox atmosphere and no impacting pathogens or contaminants."

That captured my attention.  An Earth-like world was first on the agenda?

"Any flora and fauna to be concerned about?"  I asked as I started plotting a possible exploration tour in my head, and quickly got a nod from the other pilot, a woman.

"The full spectrum, doc," she said without taking her eyes off her controls.  "All the way from bacteria and viruses up to apex predators in the seas and prowling the forests that carpet most of the land mass, which covers 88% of the planet's surface."  She adjusted one of her controls.  "Command has sent a squad of rough riders ahead to make sure we've got a secure LZ."  She looked over at her co-pilot.  "Let's start the checklist, Kent."

"Yes, ma'am," the pilot who spoke first, said before glancing back at me.  "Best go strap yourself in, doc.  We'll be hitting Petra's atmosphere in about ten minutes!"

As it turned out, ten minutes was conservative.  It was closer to seven before the shuttle gave the first twitch to announce it had touched something denser than naked space.  Then it was bucking furiously as the pilots increased their angle of descent and the shuttle ploughed headlong into the atmosphere.

Again I found myself silently patting my shoulder in congratulations for having some experience in what military pilots called a HAD, or High Angle Descent, the fastest way of getting from orbit to the ground.  These weren't cushy civilian transports that relied on customer credits to keep flying.  These were naval combat pilots trained to get their loads onto the ground as fast as physically possible, and usually through heavy anti-landing artillery.

So I was the only 'egghead' that wasn't losing their lunch all over the decking when the shuttle finally leveled out after a few tense seconds of dropping nose-first through a dense and fairly active atmosphere.  They were still retching when the outer door opened and I stood to pull my bag of gear out of an overhead storage rack before turning and walking towards the ramp.

I gave the physicists a cold look as I strode by them puking.

'And you were worried about the pilots not making a quantum bridge traverse in one shot," I dryly noted before I was passed them and down the ramp.

They were waiting for me on the edge of the seared ground marking the shuttle's landing point.  Twelve of the best rangers the human military had to offer.  Trained especially for first landing situations in hostile environments, the 'rough riders' had logged hundreds of hours in thousands of different environments.  And now they would be escorting me to the structures the survey team had discovered.

If I had thought I was in charge, however, they quickly disabused me of the notion.

"Well, well, well," a lean olive-skinned man in worn and dusty environmental gear began in a hard voice.  "Looks like our tourist has arrived, guys.'

"Definitely a tourist," another ranger agreed, this one a woman in equally worn clothing, if somewhat cleaner.  "All he's missing is the brown socks and sandals!"

"And his cheap camera and map!" another chortled, igniting a quick wave of laughter.

I smiled thinly.

"You're quite right, soldier.  I don't have a map," I began.  "Instead, I have twelve buffoons with the collective IQ of a grapefruit that the military has insisted will be skilled and trained enough to take me to where I need to go."  As they straightened up at that, dangerous expressions appearing on many of their faces, I blithely continued.  "And now that I've gotten a look at you, I think I'd rather put my  trust in a cheap tourist map."

The third soldier, the one who had made the crack about the camera, leaned forward with a dark look in his eyes.

"Why you egghead piece of shit, ...!" he began to say before the first laughed as he put a gloved hand on the man's shoulder.

"Down, boy," the ranger said with a grin.  "It was fairly played.  And we did start it."  Then he was stepping towards me, hand outstretched in greeting.

"Doctor Weber, I'm Major Ashiq Qureshi, chief buffoon of the lot.  But most just call me Ash."

I carefully took the offered hand and winced when Ash gave it a quick, hard squeeze before letting go.

"A pleasure, major, ... uh, Ash," I said and he nodded, his dark eyes bright with intelligence and barely concealed mirth.

"Indeed.  Although you might hold off on saying it's a pleasure until after your trek through the bush to the first site."  He pointed past the small camp set up around the landing pad at what appeared to be a dense, heavy jungle.  Already feeling the branches and vines pulling at me with every step forward, I groaned, eliciting another laugh from Ash.

"My point exactly!"  He scooped up the bag carrying my gear and, with a motion to follow him, he began striding towards the wall of greenery that now awaited me.

"Welcome to Petra!"