From: locke@telerama.lm.com (Herb Gilliland)
Subject: [Exerpt] "Beginning" (Alternative to "New Beginning")
Date: 12 Apr 1995 22:09:20 -0400

Here is something else I wrote, additional feedback is appreciated.

----------------------------------------------------------------------
The Beginning

     Soon the river flowed larger, cutting deep into the rock
face, digging a deeper trench.  Its simple, slow, effortless
erosion of the cliff proved further the inability of anything
to stand the test of time.  A lush forest grew along its
banks.  The plants were varied, the broad-leafed ferns and
palm fronds formed a wall of green that shaded the floor.
Vines and thorn covered ivy strands hung from the limbs of
the tall trees.  The ground was uneven, streams cut winding
meanders through the dark roots of the surrounding plants.
Huge fungi with thick bases grew from the hulks of fallen
trees, short spore bursts occasionally filling the warm,
humid air.  A light breeze tousled the leaves and the vines
swung lightly.  Reddish yellow sunlight streaked through the
canopy leaving patches of dim light on the forest floor,
where small flowery plants grew.
     A dark ravine cut across the heart of the forest,
splicing the foliage in a wide scar.  The sides of the cleft
had been roughly torn, and its end was wide and deep, glowing
hot with the magma that seeped out from below.  The other end
grooved upward and flattened out, gradually fading away to
the forest.  Metallic strips and charred plastic components
of the craft lay at either side, half buried in the dirt
which flanked the ravine.
     Deep under the forest, perched at the edge of the deep
end of the ravine, the remains of a small craft rocked
slowly, its front completely smashed and lodged into the
ground.  Huge splices through the metal sidewalls showed the
tender electronics of the ship crackling and sputtering with
electric discharge.  Acid and other fluids flowed through the
torn metal and ran down the side of the ship like blood,
running into the edges of a bulkhead and dripping down into
the magma pit below.

     There was pounding on the inside of the main bulkhead,
but the damaged mechanism would not let the hatch open.  A
secondary escape crawlway, located on the rear of the ship,
sprung free.  With the hinges already damaged, it broke loose
and fell into the pool of hot rock below.  A single figure
stood framed in the hatchway, holding its edges, leaning out
to surmise the situation.  A hot wind blew his hair, and his
eyes squinted in pain.  Parts of his clothing were seared
through during the crash.  He limped solemnly back into the
craft.

     The pouring down rain drenched the camp.  For three
straight days the thick mud had slowly entrenched the tents.
The canvas draped heavily over their bowing wood frames.
Each small hovel was sunk deep into the soil.  Inside, small
rivulets of water trickled in through the damp canvas
draperies.  Rusted zippers on the tent flaps were stuck half
way down, allowing cold fresh air to blow in, along with the
rain and chilling wind.
     In the center of the camp there lay a huge round piece
of pounded metal.  Inside the circle of rocks holding the
thin sheet was a raging fire.  Its intense heat was barely
enough to reach the few inner-most tents.  Smoke curled
lazily up into the overcast sky.  Water drenched the thin
cloth sheet suspended over the inferno.  The metal rods held
the cloth just out of reach of the licking flames, keeping
the fire from being extinguished.
     It had been three days since the crash.  The six tents
circled the central brazier, seeming to huddle for warmth
around the single fire like vagabonds in a deserted alleyway.
It was morning.  Markus's chronograph read six-thirty two.
He shuddered to himself and pulled back the cover flap to
gaze out into the bleak morning sky.  He heard the weak cough
of his bedmate, Renner, and he look over to see if he needed
any tending.
     When the craft had first impacted into the rough slough
of the jungle floor, a huge thick mossy tree had nearly
cleaved the ship in two.  Jay Renner had been thrown across
the cabin into a control panel.  Most of his right leg had
been crushed by the force, but his left remained intact
enough to allow him to hobble away from the crash with the
help of his friends.  He screamed all the way.
     After the craft had hit the edge of the chasm and
finally lay to rest on the opposite side, most of it lay
teetering on the brink of a crumbling white-hot edifice.  The
fifteen foot protrusion in the rock bore them enough time to
escape with their lives and as many supplies as they could
carry.  They scrambled up its face, away from the inferno,
only once before the ship lost its precarious balance, and
tumbled perilously into the molten rock below.  In the single
trip they made, they were able to carry enough food and cloth
to allow them to survive for one week, but three days food
were sacrificed at the last minute for medical supplies to
tend to Renner's wounds.
     Markus let Renner slowly fall back into his deep sleep.
He slowly stood, trying not to awaken him once again.  He
slowly pulled on the single rubber poncho that they had
salvaged and carefully left the tent.
     He stretched his arms, feeling the chilling rain turn
his flesh cold and clammy.  Like the dead, he thought.  After
a few minutes clearing his head, he walked over to the
makeshift bonfire.  The fire had wound itself down since the
night before.  He suspected the heavier rain of the night had
collected in the cloth and had run into the flame, dousing
much of it during the last few hours before dawn.  His feet
felt cold and dingy in his boots.  The laces were frayed over
the ends of the boot's tongue.  He had pulled a pair of work
pants over his uniform, and tucked the boots into the legs of
the pants.  Shivering, he tossed another wet log into the
fire.
     For a while he watched the flames slowly spread over the
log.  In a sort of childlike awe he saw the glowing fire flow
over the roughness of the wood.  He watched the fire engulf
the log, and he relished the heat that it gave.  He held his
gloved hands close to the fire's edge, basking in this small
pocket of warmth.  To him, it was such a contrast to the
cold, dead world that he had now found himself in.
     His gaze shifted from the fire to the tents around him.
In a sort of desolate stare he let his eyes wander around the
camp.  It pained him to see the torn, wet tents starting to
buckle under the constant strain of the weather.  Several of
the smaller tents already had to be reinforced with limbs of
some of the trees, and he could see that even the larger ones
were beginning to falter.
     He reached into his pocket and produced a small lighter.
Reaching into the breast pocket of the rubber coat, he lit
the end of a glow rod and began to make his way out of camp
for fire wood, but he stopped at the camp's edge to examine a
new find.
     In the night, the storm caused a tree to buckle under
the pressure of rainwater.  The trunk of the tree lay across
the firewood path that Markus had been using for the past few
days.  Among the supplies there was an all-purpose military
sabre, a weapon which proved invaluable as a survivalist's
tool.  The path had been freshly cut the night before, but
now a fifty-foot tree was splayed across it.
     For a moment, Markus did nothing but stare.  It would be
easy to crawl over, the tree was only a few feet high on its
side, but the concept that the trees around the camp could
collapse frightened him.  The trees were each a thousand
pounds at least, and if one were to fall on the encampment,
they were in grave danger.  Markus ran his hands over the
rough, wet bark of the tree and pondered the situation.
There was nothing they could really do; the forest was so
vast they had yet to find its edge.  He sighed to himself and
climbed over.
     The rain was coming down, once again, in sheets, and the
sky had become darker.  Markus made his way along the path,
watching for signs of dangerous indigenous flora and fauna
alike.  When he reached the grove of saplings that were being
used for firewood, he stopped to rest.
     The first day after the crash had been spent setting up
camp.  This particular task proved exhausting to them, and
they slept part of the second day away.  It was late that
evening that they decided to build a fire, at Renner's
request, and soon after they had one started the rains began.
     Markus had built the lean-to for the bonfire, with the
help of several others, and without it he was sure the fire
would never have lasted this long.  Markus fancied, as he
looked about the grove, that they would have to find a new
source of wood soon.  Only two usable saplings were left, of
twenty, and so this day's task would be in finding a larger
supply of fuel for their fire.
     They had two days of usable food left, rationed out to
three, and so would have to conduct studies on the indigenous
wildlife as alternate sources.  When the others woke up, he
would have to bring this to their attention.
     Markus began chopping and gathering kindling to fuel the
fire.  The blade of the sabre was dulling, he could tell, and
they had no whetstone on which to sharpen it.  The survival
kit that he grabbed on the way out of the ship contained a
few knives, but nothing with the size and shape comparable to
a machete.  The sabre was the closest thing they had to such
an implement, and Markus was unsure what they would use once
it was dull.
     Immediately after they had landed, the roles of the
group fell into place.  Markus, being the highest ranked
cadet, became the leader, seconded by his good friend Jay
Renner.  Due to Renner's health, however, Katherine-Celeste
was promoted in rank.  Markus wasn't really prepared to take
the position, but his training for his entire life was to
prepare him to take command, and so he had.
     Markus bundled the wood into a thick roll, tied it with
a piece of frayed bootlace, and hefted it onto his back.  The
rain was coming down as hard as ever, and the ground was
slick and uneven with the fresh rivers of mud.  He carefully
haunched over, carrying the bale of twigs and small logs on
his back, and made his way down the path to the camp.

     Sasha Jhirl had awoken at midnight, to the sound of a
crash outside her tent.  She was exhausted the next morning,
having not slept so soundly after the event.  Her tent was
only ten yards from where the tree fell.  In the morning she
worked at removing the twigs and branches from the top of her
tent.  The tree had splayed them over the top of the tent,
covering the drenched canvas with dozens of wide fronds and
debris.  She counted it out to being lucky.
     When she was done cleaning this off, she began work on
fashioning some rudimentary implements from the debris they
had gathered.  She was in charge of supply, and by mid-
morning she had tallied, categorized and inventoried despite
being buffeted by the torrential rains.  A few scraps of
plasteel could be reshaped into axe-heads, or awls, which
Sasha decided would be useful.  Aside from the current
situation, she safely decided that in their one trip they had
made a surprisingly good haul.  Seven survival packs, two
bolts of emergency webbing, and dozens of foodstuffs were the
larger items in the group.  Most everyone was able to get at
the nearest survival pack.  Their group consisted of thirty-
four, including Renner, but of the forty survival kits, only
seven had been retained.  Two medikits, the cloth, the main
survival package and the foodstuffs had been the bulk of the
inventory, a practical split-second decision she had made
when handing out the supplies to the scrambling survivors.
Sasha also inventoried the other items that had been
recovered: a damaged radio-report beacon, one rubber smock
(which Markus had taken the previous evening), a dozen or so
glow rods, two lighters, a coil of high-tensile rope, a
mechanic's toolkit, a stungun, a slightly erased planetary
overview scanner, and four nickel-cadmium batteries.
     A standard survival kit contained a general-purpose
cutting tool, three nutrition bars, a canteen and some
general anesthetic and gauze.  Mostly useless since only one
of the group was injured, but depending on the length of
their stay, one could never tell.

     Around lunchtime, the group was up and about enjoying a
break in the storm.  The clouds overhead still were grey with
foreboding, but the rain had ceased.  Markus had returned
with more firewood, and lunchtime was drawing closer.  They
ate their meals in silence, thirty-four cadets sitting on wet
logs, in wet clothing, eating dried foods and gelatinous
nutrient supplements.
     After the meal,  Markus called a meeting.  It was the
first day that they had felt fairly rested, and so he felt it
was time for them to come to grips with the situation. He
spoke while Katherine-Celeste fed Renner a supplement.
     "It has been three days since the crash, two days of
rain and one of exhausting labor.  We've recovered rather
quickly, perhaps only because the truth of the matter hasn't
quite hit us yet.  The true reason, I'm not sure.  We are
thirty-four of the original fifty, crashed on this planet and
set for survival.  Our ranks, if we still can hold some
meaning in them, will determine our place in this encampment,
so listen to your superiors.  It sounds strange to talk of
such things, but in order to maintain a level above anarchy,
I'm willing to try anything at least once."
     When Markus was done Sasha reported on the supplies.
She looked haggard, and felt the same.  Markus chewed a
morsel of his lunch while she talked.  The meeting adjourned
with the decision to meet again at lunchtime the following
day.  They looked tired, Markus reflected.
     Markus looked at his chronograph, which read half-past
noon station time, and sat back to rest in the shade of the
fallen tree.  The sun had come out, and began to rapidly heat
up the forest floor.  Its hot rays beat down on the camp,
drying the muddy ground and offering enough reason for the
fire to be extinguished.  It was then that they came.
     Katherine-Celeste, Sasha, a phenokti named Thet, John
Redgeborne and his brother Samuel.  They formed a semi-circle
around Markus.  He looked up at them from his reclining
position, but felt no need to salute.  They sat down,
skipping the military formalities.
     Katherine was the first to speak, "Markus, we came to
talk about this situation."
     Markus nodded gravely and said nothing, he was willing
to hear them out.
     "We're low on foodstuffs, only a day or two left," said
Sasha, "and we need to find a way to eat the plants and
animals here.  We can't rely on nutrient supplements forever,
we just don't have enough to go around come breakfast in a
day or two."
     Markus nodded, "I know, we'll have to find out what we
can.  Didn't you report that a planetary overview scanner was
amongst the salvage?"
     Sasha nodded, twining her fingers in a brown lock of
curls.
     John said, "The scanner's partially erased, there must
have been something magnetic that got near it during the
crash.  Most geographical information is missing, along with
historical and weather data.  The database has flora and
fauna reports, however, so we should be able to use that."
     Sasha agreed, and said there were plenty of batteries so
they could do sixteen or seventy hundred sample tests.
     They talked on for a few more minutes about possible
tools that could be constructed from the bulkhead pieces,
until the phenokti brought up rescue.
     In his flowing, musical voice, Thet asked, "What are we
going to do to get off this planet?  We have only a short
range radio-report beacon.  They may come looking, but it
could be weeks, months or years before they find us."
     Remembering a piece of the crash-safety protocol lecture
he had heard before the trip, "They will send a search party
in a month.  If they find nothing, they will report back that
this planet was not the source of the crash site.  If they
find the crash site, however, but no encampment or signs of
survival, they will declare us dead and give up searching.
There is enough radioactivity on this planet to mask any
trails the ship may have left as it entered the upper
atmosphere, but they can't miss the massive tract of debris
and uprooted foliage across this section of the continent.
We'll just have to make sure we either stay near the crash
site, or make it very clear we're out and about.  What's the
name of this planet again?"
     "Planet Veo.  Deoxonen according to the star-charts."
Thet replied.  Markus remembered Thet had been studying
planetary biology.
     "Thet, form a search team and use the POS to locate some
edible plants.  Take three or four out in groups at a time,
don't split up.  Its important that we find foodstuffs
nearest to the camp or impact zone as possible.  Anywhere
along the ravine is fine."
     Thet nodded.
     "I wouldn't mind going along with Thet, Markus." Sam was
a first-year xenobiological student.  Markus nodded.
     Sasha said, "Come by the supply tent later and I'll give
you the equipment."
     Katherine spoke, "Junior Cadet Marcie Wallace is my
recommendation to be put in charge of tending Renner,
Markus."
     "Do you feel your services are needed elsewhere?"
     "I'm not a medic, Markus."
     He nodded, "You can come with me then to do housing
surveys.  We have a month's worth of living here, we're going
to need to build some weatherable structures."
     They all agreed, Sasha in particular mentioned the tree
incident, looking rather uncomfortably at the thick gnarled
trunk upon which Markus reclined.
     "Yes, the trees are hazardous.  We'll have to find out.
We can't really use stone without more advanced tools.  How
nice a laser-cutter would be right now, but all we have are a
set of mechanic's tools and what we can fashion from the
scraps of plasteel.  I have no idea what we'll use aside from
wood."
     "We could fashion a set of axes from some of the
bulkhead material."  Sasha had brought along one of the
scraps to show them, and they agreed it could be easily
sharpened.
     "Ok, whoever wants to take care of that--"
     Sasha nodded and put the scrap away.
     ". . . ok, do we have some sort of welding tool amongst
our supplies?  I noticed the two fore-wings were a half-mile
south of here.  We could reshape those into several large
buildings,"  Markus added.
     John was willing to take a group down to survey the
debris, but not without the stungun.  Markus agreed with an
added cautionary statement.
     "We don't really know what's on the planet, aside from
our experience and what's in the POS.  After Thet is able to
identify enough plantlife, take the POS, the stungun and a
day's supply of food and go down to the site.  If anything
moves, hit it with low power.  If that doesn't do anything
. . .  figure something out.  You can take three with you."
     John nodded, and they all stood up.
     "Ok then.  We're their leaders, so we have to show
strength and courage, but above all caution and level-
headedness."
     Katherine lingered while the others tended to their
duties.  It was then that she told Markus of Renner's
worsening condition.
     "Our medics examined his leg and told me that the right
side of his pelvis was shattered.  The bone fragments were
sharp and were cutting the flesh enough that he should move
as little as possible.  They would have to set the bones as
well as the could, and let them heal.  When we go
stationside, the medical staff would have to regraft his
bones.  I told them to go ahead."
     Markus sighed but nodded, "Ok.  In the future, though,
at least consult me first.  Was Renner told?"
     "He was in the room at the time, so he knows."
     Markus nodded again.  "If you want, you can go with
John.  Those wings may be more useful than anything else we
could find.  I want you to spend some time with me exploring
around the camp.  The POS's geographical data was erased
along with the geological, so we'll have to gather a rough
understand of the planet on our own.  Do you remember the
geology seminars?"
     She smiled and nodded, "I studied planetary geology, you
remember."
     Markus smiled.  He had tutored her and consequently been
set up for a fall by her boyfriend, Max Hollerstar.  "You
realize we're going to be on this lousy planet for my
twentieth birthday, you know.  Its in three weeks."
     She nodded and turned to look at the dreary camp.  The
tents seemed to reflect the feelings of its inhabitants
. . . fatigued, strained and at the brink of collapse.

     At the end of the day they assembled for role-call.
Markus looked at his classmates and saw their already
hardening faces.  Their coming of age was almost complete,
but framed in a background of chaos and uncertainty, they
looked as young and inexperienced as they could.  In their
mud-caked blue uniforms and thin canvas work clothes, they
seemed almost to radiate exhaustion.  The pink sky followed
the sun as it dipped below the tree-lined horizon, and they
called out their names in drones of half-sleep.  The fire was
rekindled in the center of camp, further drying the sagging
tents.  In the day, the forest's heat diffracted the light in
its flight from the ground, but at night the air was cold and
brisk, the wind chilled and the sky black.  They filed into
their tents, collapsed on the hard-packed earth, and some
even forgot to roll up their clothing as pillows to rest
their tired heads upon.


--
   _  __ __ __ ___ | locke@lm.com: Herb Gilliland, CEO Obelisk Entertainment
  //_/. /_///// _/ | Coder of The Isles.             (formerly Z8soft)
 /__/__/__|_\/__/  | Contact Obelisk on C-serve: 76202.2513@compuserve.com