their surroundings over. On the street bordering the beach, abandoned hover craft transports and archaic automobiles on round black wheels dotted the surface on which they had once traveled. Almost all of the vehicles were blackened, burnt hulks of metal and molded plastic. None of the nuclear explosions that had wiped out most of Earth’s inhabitants had happened here. The surviving Earthers had obviously turned on each other in an orgy of destruction.
Japohn’s sharp eyes looked over everything, suspecting every piece of the landscape of harboring enemies. “We may be under observation from a distance. Let me do my job of protecting you.”
Nobeks were the clan defenders, and Japohn was taking his position very seriously. Too seriously, in Bacoj’s opinion. He twitched, shaking off Japohn’s heavy hand on his shoulder. “I’m already outside. I need to check the engine to see how much damage was done.”
Bacoj strode over the rippled skin of sand, hearing the soft grind of his knee-high boots against the grainy surface. He restrained a groan at the damage to the underside of their shuttle. It looked like Japohn had used it for a punching bag. He opened the engine compartment, wincing in expectation. “We took a direct hit from that magnetic surge. It can’t be good news.”
Japohn ran his hand over the hull. “The whole skin is crumpled. It’s my fault. We should have taken the long way and avoided the portal like you wanted.”
Yes we should have, Japohn. But we always have to do things your way, don’t we? Bacoj bit back the angry words. His clanmate sounded sincerely upset with himself, especially since their other clanmate Vax had been hurt in the crash. And who was really at fault? He knew who his superiors would blame.
Bacoj took a deep breath. “I was the one piloting. And I am clan leader. The blame for this is mine.” He raised his voice to a yell. “Vax, hit the ignition.”
The shuttle powered up with a thick grinding sound that masked its usual efficient hum. Purplish-black smoke roiled from the compartment, and Bacoj coughed as the fumes hit him. Still, there was a sense of relief.
“All right, shut it down!”
The ship fell silent again. Light thumps on the ramp claimed Bacoj’s attention, and he turned to see Vax leaving the ship to stand at Japohn’s side. The smallest member of their clan, Vax looked somehow childlike and defenseless next to the Nobek. His well-formed face, usually gentle with a smile, was drawn. His brows pinched close to each other. Bacoj’s Imdiko, the clan’s nurturer, was in obvious pain. With a flush of guilt, Bacoj looked at Vax’s broken arm, which was encased in a hard shell and supported in a sling.
As always, the Imdiko did not look to lay blame. Instead he asked, “What’s the verdict?”
Bacoj smiled encouragingly. “Fortunately, I don’t see major damage to the engine. It’s the power recharger that’s the real problem, along with the loss of all but one thruster. I can repair it well enough for a few short hops.”
Vax, ever the optimist, smiled back. “It beats walking.”
Bacoj looked towards the southwest, seeing nothing but dark, hulking buildings, the glass broken out of windows and doors and strange hieroglyphics painted on their exteriors. He’d learned a little of the Earther language English since that was the dialect of the area he was assigned to. But he couldn’t read any of the writings posted on the seemingly abandoned buildings. Bacoj was low in rank, a mere shuttle pilot, and he hadn’t counted on much interaction with Earth’s native population.
“I’ll also have to repair the stabilizers. Once that’s done, we might be able to reach the search teams southwest of here within three days.”
Vax’s blue-purple eyes widened. “Three days? There’s no hope of restoring communications with the fleet?”
He must be in a agony to be so worried. We’ll have to make him take pain inhibitors. Bacoj swallowed. Vax was an easygoing man, never making waves and content with whatever life threw in his direction. The complete opposite of Japohn, in fact.
“The com panel is fried, along with environmental controls. We’ll have to open the atmospheric vents and hope this mild weather holds.” The gravity of their situation hit Bacoj with renewed strength. “My commander is going to have my head for this.”
Japohn frowned. “I was the one who insisted we take the unstable Bermuda Triangle portal. If anyone is to be punished, it’s me.”
Bacoj regretted sharing his anxiety. “I’m the pilot and the clan Dramok.