The Acolytes of Crane (Theodore Crane, #1)(78)
Size, however, wasn’t a measure of viciousness. A Drigorian Mosquito was smaller than a dust particle. It could release hemotoxic venom that destroyed red blood cells—ultimately killing the flesh of any blood driven beast. The toxins had no effect on Elons, since only chlorophyll ran through their veins. The dermonecrotic lesions that the insect could inflict were similar to the brown recluse spider that is native to America.
The Elons were made up entirely of plant cells. They didn’t have brains like us. They functioned upon instinct, preserved by memory. Their reflexive experience was so advanced that they knew how to act and react upon their environment precisely with each previously learned situation.
Elons were bound to their environment. They communicated through the incredible concept of Kora, meaning love by transference. It was like telepathy, but far more simple and devastatingly effective. Instinct, rather than complex thought, was transmitted from plant to plant through a domino effect.
The King of Tritillia could set the whole forest in motion with one tap of a leaf or a tug at a blade of grass. That same power made Tritillia uninhabitable by any outside species, because the forest could collapse on an enemy like a fifty-pound drum of sand on a beetle.
Our ship was rapidly descending toward the planet. Our hull, set ablaze by atmospheric friction, approached dangerous levels of stress, nearing total collapse. Gritting my teeth, I pressed on, destined to make an impact with the ground below.
We were about thirty thousand feet from the surface of the greenest planet I had ever seen. Our descent was shaken by the ferocious gusts of wind in the stratosphere. Luckily for me, Ed was an accomplished aviator and a maverick of the air.
That wasn’t one of the best flights possible. Fear gripped my throat. I did not want to head out so far away from Zane, only to die on my own watch.
‘Ed, what the hell is happening?’ I screamed. I banged against the walls. I was defenseless within our steel coffin. My body slammed into the buttons and levers situated in the wall, because my harness wasn’t attached correctly.
‘I told you to buckle and then pull the strap, and did you do so? No, you didn’t. You are not smart,’ Ed stated with outright honesty, giving no regard to my feelings. It was typical robot behavior. I finally plopped down on my seat long enough to sit. I shredded the leather of my chair with my fingernails. I was that anxious.
The temperature of our ship’s cabin increased to one hundred and thirty degrees Fahrenheit. I could not even bring up my hand to my face to wipe away the sweat, because I strapped it tightly to the chair. My perspiration mercilessly stabbed at my eyes, despite my intense squinting. Through my slits, I gasped as a panel from the bow on the outside peeled off like the lid of a sardine can, then disappeared.
‘If we don’t make it, I just want you to know I think you are a damn good robot,’ I said as if I was saying my last words.
‘Is this the beginning of a verbal will, because I am not currently recording audio? My processor’s focal point is landing this ship,’ Ed said while he was computing all of his flight variables.
We were a ticking bomb, set to explode against the planet beneath us. Ed launched anti-gravity propulsion thrusters from the stern of the ship, and these slowed us down considerably. I was having trouble breathing, and as the space between the looming jungle and our ship narrowed, so did my breath.
Ten… nine… eight…
Impact was imminent. I was about to die.
CRASH! My body reverberated with the impact and my clenched teeth nearly fractured. When we hit, Ed went off-line, and I was knocked unconscious.
Several moments passed by. Slowly, groggily, I rose out of my concussion-induced slumber. Any further velocity and my rolesk could have been embedded into my scalp for good. Ed was still off-line, and I heard thrashing and slithering noises outside. Something was coming after us!
I could not see beyond the windows, so thick and dense was the vegetation surrounding us. I felt positively claustrophobic. Was it my imagination, or was the jungle closing in on us?
‘Wake up Ed, come on! You can’t just go off-line when the crap is hitting the fan!’ I screamed, and shook his stainless steel body.
Crack! Creak! Bam! Deafening noises arose as the hull began to bow inward and beams began to crack and buckle. The jungle was pulverizing our ship from all directions!
The walls closed in, and I quickly grabbed pipes that were knocked from their bindings to jam from wall to wall, slowing the crushing force from the plants outside. That done, I desperately salvaged as much as I could for my imminent escape from the death trap. My heart beating, I unsheathed Wrath with one hand, on the lookout for predators. Next, I rattled Ed’s body wildly. He was barely responsive.
‘Ed, I need you! You’re an a*shole!’ I said. After blaming Ed for everything, I noticed that Ed had what appeared to be an Allen key, strung out on a cord from the cabinet on his back. I zipped over to the key, seized it, and made countless attempts to plug it into every robotic orifice on the damn thing, as the ship’s cabin continued to be compressed inwards. Finally, I found the right slot for the key—in his leg.
‘Ed, wake up you—you jerk!’ I shouted.
‘The chance of us surviving this inward pressure is two percent,’ he said in a monotone, and I quickly unlatched him from his seat to aid me in stopping the crushing forces.
The walls began to vice me, and the metal pinched my skin just below my armpit, causing me to drop my sword in anguish. Ed and I were pinned between the roof and the floor of our ship. Finally, just as I thought I was about to be squished to death, the inward pressure stopped. I could only move my shoulders a few inches.