Dragon Pearl(69)

“At least food and drink won’t be a problem as long as I’m around,” Sujin quipped.

“First things first,” Haneul said. “Be careful getting out of your harness. We don’t know how stable the pod is, and we don’t want it to tumble down from the trees.”

I unhooked myself as carefully as I could and still managed to land hard on my shoulder. It was pure luck that I didn’t dislocate it. Haneul and Sujin had an easier time. Still, every time one of us moved, the pod swayed alarmingly, and we could hear the creaking and groaning of the branches that cradled it.

The other thing I noticed was the gravity, significantly lighter than what I was used to on Jinju or what was standard on starships. It gave a bouncy feeling to all my movements, which would have been fun under less harrowing circumstances. Given our precarious position, I didn’t dare experiment with it yet.

Sujin rummaged quickly through the supplies. Cautiously, so we didn’t overbalance the ship, we divided up the slate, medical kit, and survival gear. I got the slate and quickly loaded it up with the survey data so we’d have something to work with.

“Assuming we landed where we wanted to,” I said, “once Captain Hwan gets down here, this will be his first guess for where we’ve gone. So we have to move fast.”

Haneul’s shoulders hunched. “I wish things hadn’t turned out like this.”

“Me too,” Sujin said. “But the situation is what it is.”

“Let’s all take a look at the map,” Haneul said, recovering her poise, “just in case something happens and we end up getting separated.” This took more finagling, since we couldn’t cluster together without risking the pod tumbling down.

If we could trust my repair of the navigation system, we’d landed at the southern edge of Jeonbok. The maps had indicated that the woods had been cleared at one point, but they must have grown back over the years. A nearby river wound past Jeonbok toward a lake. If we got really lost, we could navigate by the river.

Eventually we were ready.

I’m coming for you, Jun, I thought fiercely. I had to hold on to that, had to believe I could rescue him easily once I got this business with the Dragon Pearl sorted.

“Now what?” Haneul said.

I took a deep breath and immediately regretted it. The air inside the pod was still unpleasantly damp and smelly. I checked the gauges. “We have barely enough fuel to launch back into orbit. There won’t be any margin for error. So if Captain Hwan catches up to us while we’re in flight, we won’t be able to evade.”

“I don’t think it’s going to make a difference,” Haneul said. “How would we get the pod out of these trees? And anyway, Captain Hwan has a lot of ways to track us.”

I had to concede that. Everything was going wrong with this plan. We’d have to figure out a solution later, once we’d secured the Pearl.

“Check to see if the atmosphere out there is breathable, would you, Min?” Sujin said. “I’d hate to crack the hatch open only to suffocate.”

“I can do that,” I said, glowering at the pod’s computer display. It took me some time to bring the sensor suite online. It wouldn’t be accurate enough for real survey work, but we only needed to know if there was sufficient oxygen and no poisonous gases. Fortunately, the display lit up blue. We were in the clear.

We all looked at each other and exhaled in relief at the same time.

“Okay,” Sujin said, “let’s open this tin can.”

Things could have been worse. Sure, we were marooned on a plague-infected planet where we’d probably be murdered by ghosts, but at least we had breathable air. Some planets had a toxic atmosphere or none at all, or were too cold or hot for even supernatural creatures to survive without serious gear.

“Here goes nothing,” Haneul muttered, and slid open the hatch.

I coughed immediately at the thick, pollen-scented breeze that swirled through the pod. At least, it started as a breeze. It quickly became more forceful, almost as if it were responding to our presence. “Let’s hurry,” I said.

Haneul didn’t need to be told twice. “Let me ask the winds to calm down,” she said, although she sounded dubious. She shut her eyes and began to meditate. After a few moments, she opened her eyes, and though I didn’t notice much change in the air current, she began clambering down. Her voice wafted to us from outside the capsule: “Be careful out here. Some of these branches have thorns.”

Wonderful. “I’ll go next,” I said. If necessary, I could shape-shift into something that would take less damage in a fall, or offer cushioning for anyone landing on me. Being a mattress might not be dignified, but it beat Sujin ending up with broken bones or a concussion, or worse.

The trees grew thick and tall. Their limbs were bent or snapped around the capsule, and the remains of the parachute were draped over the treetops. A few of the trees had needlelike leaves that glistened with a pale sap. I got some of it on my hands and found that it improved my grip on the branches.

The thorns were another matter. Haneul hadn’t been kidding about them. Some of them were almost the length of my forearm. If I fell on one, I might join the ghosts before reaching the ground.

I momentarily wished I’d changed into my nimbler true shape for the job of climbing down, but my longer human arms had better reach. I swallowed a cry when a smaller thorn jabbed my arm as I leaped unsteadily toward one of the larger branches beneath me. The unfamiliar lighter gravity was interfering with my reflexes. When I flinched, I inadvertently moved my foot and took another thorn to the back of my knee.