This story originally appeared in Alien Dimensions #11
On the surface, Riga 7 was no different from the other hundred ice worlds in the galaxy, but beneath the great endless white emptiness existed a dazzling subterranean jungle.
The Daragan Rift had stayed motionless for nine days inside the broken hollow of an ancient lake, and Cora had been getting restless. The AI had been shimmering back and forth through the ship from camera to camera, eagerly observing the lush sweltering jungle below for any signs of sentient life.
She had good reason to believe there would be. After all, it was a strange alien signal that had brought them to this curious planet in the first place. The coding was old in design. It didn’t translate into anything that made any sense, which suggested it could be Venelli, an ancient race, whose superior technology sold for a fortune on the black market. The humans couldn’t resist such a temptation, and now they were off chasing untold riches, while Cora was left behind to repair the ship.
That had been her blunder, though. Not only had she put them forty-seven miles out from the crater she was supposed to land in, but she had botched the landing too. When bringing the Rift in, most of her CPU was still occupied with processing the wealth of data she had gleaned from the wonderful world of Palador 3. Or, putting it bluntly, she was thinking about something else. But the humans didn’t need to know that. She had constructed an alternative truth. She told them the strange signal must have been echoing from here, which of course made no sense, but she phrased it in a confident way.
At her suggestion, the humans set off on foot with their mobile habitats on their backs. Cora had the drones repair the ship whilst she observed the tropical caverns of Riga 7, documenting all the exciting new life.
The day after the humans first departed, the ship received an audio message. It was Ben, his voice weak and distorted. He said that they were nearly at the crater, that there were some ancient Venelli ruins that seemed to lead down to it. If it proved to be as good as it looked, they would set up camp, so he told her not expect them back for a few days.
Cora had been delighted at first, but that message had arrived a week ago and she’d heard nothing since. Ben had strictly forbidden her to use her robotic body or leave the ship under any circumstances, but the lack of communication was causing her concern for their welfare. She believed this to be enough justification for overriding her restrictions, and began downloading herself into the avatar.
She left the vastness of the ship behind, and reawakened, a pattern of purple hexagons peeling back to fill her vision with color. The world always looked different through the body’s optics. It felt tight, and restricted. It was far inferior to the many eyes of the Daragan Rift, but this way she could feel like one of them, a member of the crew.
Opening the cargo ramp, she was completely unaware of the air that drew in and just how cold it was. Her metal body could feel nothing. Blissfully insensitive to the severe conditions, she took six long strides down the ramp, feeling good to finally be outside.
She saw, from her new perspective, just how much the top of the Daragan Rift had frosted over under the chilling gaze of those ice moons. It was their continual stare that kept the surface as a never-ending winterland, while the fiery core of Riga 7 kept the planet warm inside. It was in these caverns deep below, in this goldilocks zone, where life thrived.
Cora descended the jagged rock face she’d watched the humans climb down nine days ago. It was easy for her, being able to twist and contort her body in ways the humans were incapable of, and there was her perfect balance and superior strength, too. The way down became drastically steep, and soon became a climb. She carefully scaled the moist rock face, having to leap the last few feet to the platform below.
The stone cracked under her landing. She lifted the fist she had punched into the rock, and pulled herself straight. Surveying this flat precipice through her optics, she saw that life, mainly fungal, dared to begin here. The many mighty stalactites of ice that reached down into this darkness were dripping away at their sharp ends, their continual rain of freezing water gave the whole rock formation a glistening but treacherous sheen.
Carefully watching her step, she advanced to the edge of the precipice. Could she have felt it, she would have noticed the intense increase in heat. The continual drip-dripping of water echoing around in the hollow was replaced by the noisy tropical chattering of birds and insects. Coming to the edge, she found herself looking down upon the vibrant canopy, a vast and thriving jungle.
Cora looked around for a way down out of this dark murky hollow, this lobby before the unknown, as it were. Snapping on her head-torch, she discovered what looked to be a cutting in the stone to create some steps down. Their design looked intentional, and a casual observer would perceive them to be the product of intelligent life, but they were in fact natural in formation. Cora took one last look up at the Daragan Rift high above, and then made her way down.
#
She could have walked straight onto another world. As Cora stepped out of the cave into the thick vibrant undergrowth, light and noise overwhelmed her. Her sensors, optics and aurics, were bombarded with a thousand new things to process all at once. It stalled her for a moment. Desperately killing some of her other background processes, she was able to get on top of the torrent of data coming in.
When her head cleared, she could then process what she was seeing and hearing, from the clicking and drumming of obscene insects and the strangled screeching and cackling of unseen birds, to the striking contrast of strange and unusual colors of the scrub. It was hard to believe that above all this on the surface was a cold and harsh winterland.
She looked above to the uncovered opening of the once great lake, and in the sky between those two menacing ice moons was the distant sun that fed this avaricious jungle. Processing its positions, and consulting her compass, she got her bearings. Comparing the coordinates of the crater, she picked her direction and set off, proceeding with very little caution, stamping through the undergrowth under the close watch of intelligent looking primates hiding up in the trees.
#
During the day, she had been able to observe the treetops from up in the ship, and had already recorded some information about the undocumented life of Riga 7. But being close up, and having the ability to touch, even with fingers that could not feel, was immensely enjoyable.
She had followed a small idyllic stream for a bit of the way, studying the life that thrived at its edges, especially a species of bold furry insectivores that came to drink here. She soon arrived at the stream’s source to discover a fallen ice stalactite, colossal in size, bleeding away its pure chilled water to feed the jungle. From here on, as she descended deeper into the heart, the undergrowth thinned out and became a murky swampland, where undesirable creatures and vegetation thrived in muggy, sweltering heat.
Her optics struggled to make sense of things in the swirling haze. Insects pestered her, and vines tried to trip and tangle her. She pushed on through, fighting against it all, but one misjudged step sent her knee deep into water. She looked up to the heavens, almost imploringly, to the jagged ice stalactites that lined the opening above like the crooked fangs of some vicious winterbeast. Feeling sorry for herself, she pulled her leg out of the mud, and collapsed defeated. It was then she heard the shriek. It was a call she knew well, and it shook her to her circuits. She ran for safety, hiding herself behind a fallen tree-trunk. She stayed there motionless, optics turned off until she felt brave enough to look. She rose a little, and peeked out between the festering foliage. She saw it out there, fluttering around in the marshes, the large winged creature known as the common dactyl.
It had a small mammal under its talons which it was callously playing with. She too had been attacked by one of these winged terrors on the ocean moon of Tellos. It was an experience she didn’t wish to repeat. She was even considering heading back when she noticed high above a large and powerful beast, she could best describe as a woolly tiger, stealthily descending, skillfully clawing its way down one of the mighty ice stalactites.
The dactyl flapped around oblivious, playfully snapping its razor beak at its captive. Wicked cruel creatures, Cora thought, how she loathed them.
The white feline halted its descent down the giant icicle, taking a moment to study its prey. Cora had wrongly assumed that no life could exist up on the surface, yet there was no doubt that this creature had come down to hunt.
The white feline from the cold world above pushed off with its powerful legs and leapt down upon the swamp creature. Too late the dactyl realized its fate and tried to take desperate flight. The plummeting tiger caught it in the air, claws punching through its wings, and they crashed back into the swamp, disappearing together under the waters.
Following the action, Cora unwittily rose to her full height to see. The murky waters bubbled for a while and then went very still. Just as she thought it was safe, the woolly tiger burst from the mire, its pure white coat now black with filth. It dragged out the crumbled dactyl, and then retreated to its home above, clawing up the giant stalactite with its kill hanging limp in its jaws.
Cora stepped out from her hiding place, her gaze following the beast with absolute fascination. What was it about living things? She wondered. In one way or another, everything was always trying to eat everything else.
#
After twenty-seven hours of cutting her way through the thick jungles of Riga 7, Cora came to the conclusion that life had been given to this planet. None of the species she had come into contact with were indigenous to this world. Whether it be the curious but coy primates in the trees, the dactyls, or the white tigers from the surface, or even the trees, plant life, and fungi, these species originated from many different worlds across the Auros. Although they had all drastically deviated from their ancestors in interesting and creative ways, they were all visitors to this planet just as she was.
Nearing the source of the signal, Cora was beginning to worry what fate might have befallen her friends. There was no shortage of predators on this world, and survival seemed to be hot competition. Indeed, most of these animals were the apex predators of their own ecosystems, yet here on this unforgiving and hostile world they had been brought together and forced to figure out a new food chain in a strange and vicious biome.
The day was drawing to a close as Cora was nearing the far end of the lake’s basin. She ascended a rise and scanned the land with the maximum magnification of her optics. Ahead, beyond a final stretch of marshland, she could see some ruins sheltered beneath a strange outstretching of rock. The formation reached out of the basin wall to claw four crooked pillars into the ground bearing the semblance to some rickety legs of a prehistoric colossal insect, or giant skeletal hand. It was likely that these ruins were the same as the ones Ben had spoken of in his message. If her humans were in trouble, time could be a factor, but her body’s energy was low and the dark always made things problematic for her.
As the sun began to disappear behind the lip of the hollow, a shadow fell over the jungle. Although her body didn’t have instincts like a human, something unexplainable made her turn around at that moment. At her high vantage point, she could see over the jungle, and a change was taking place. The trees were shivering. Their sea of foliage rippling frantically. Although she was in no danger, some subconscious automated algorithm made her body take a step back.
Then the change came, and all the tropical trees from the many worlds across the Auros closed up their canopies, shutting away their soft delicate palms in the casing of giant hard shells. Cora observed in wonder, unaware they possessed such an ability.
Soon the sunlight was completely gone, and the life in the lake-basin was abandoned to the tyrannical gaze of those two domineering ice moons. The mad chattering noise of the jungle had fallen completely silent, and the world became as still as a picture. The bright lush vibrancy vanished, and a cold eeriness remained, bathed in the unfriendliness of the sad moonlight.
Cora saw that the rock beside her was now covered in what looked like a scattering of tiny nuts, which had been plagued with insects only a moment ago. They too had closed themselves up just like the trees. So, this is how life on Riga 7 had learned to protect itself against the deadly nights. Already a frost was crusting over them, and Cora became concerned how she too might survive the night. Being insensitive to the cold didn’t mean the body she possessed was invulnerable to it. The slight protection of the canopy above her had withdrawn into its hardened form, so Cora decided to make a dash for the ruins where she would find shelter. She made good speed across the marsh without so many distractions, and within the hour she reached the crumbling ruin.
#
The ruin was not a building. It was a ship. She could understand how the humans might not have understood this, but to her it was as clear as day. She tried to connect with it, communicate with it on some level, but it was as good as trying to speak to the dead. Stepping in through the rupture in the hull, she discovered many clusters of large shells and pods, perhaps the sleeping forms of some of the mammalian or bird life which had retreated here for the night.
This ability the inhabitants of Riga 7 had developed fascinated her. None of their relatives from the faraway worlds did anything quite like it. There is a widely-held misconception in the universe that life is delicate, fragile and vulnerable. And it is this wrong belief, that all living creatures hold, which makes life so prosperous. Even in the most adverse conditions, life finds a way, adapting, strengthening and changing to overcome the most unforgiving environments. Even in here, life prospered on death. All around, little clusters of reddish spikes stabbed out, feeding off the crumbling oxidization of the alien alloy. It is this desperation, this thing called survival that drives every living thing. And it was something Cora knew she would never be able to understand. It was with these thoughts that Cora slipped into standby.
#
Although just as ancient in design, the starship was not Venelli. But Cora was sure she was in the very same ruin that Ben had contacted her from a week ago, he had simply been mistaken in his initial assessment. Time, and the harsh elements of Riga 7 had corroded and mutilated the antique vessel far beyond her original structure but Cora could apply the designs of a million other starships to predict the layout, as she explored the dark forgotten corridors. There was very little left in the corpse but as Cora found herself descending down through broken decks she saw the ship became increasingly the interest of a large crawler plant. The oxidized red and brown metals became strangled by the intrusion of sharp green vines which felt around curiously, possessively wrapping over any protrusion in the structure.
Whilst picking her way down a splintered corridor where a large vine stretched down its length like a long lolling tongue, Cora was hit with a data-surge that knocked her out. When her systems restored and her vision returned, she found herself on the floor. The attack had come from the ship. She had been wrong, there was one last bit of life in the old vessel and it had just forced itself on her.
Cora picked herself up. She had struck the vine on her way down and it was responding to her touch, it had begun writhing, moving around more like a serpent than a plant. Then she heard it, the hurried thumping then the horrendous creaking. Almost desperately, the vine began retracting. And then the floor above came crashing down on her.
Cora threw up her arms and punched through the falling debris. The impact was nowhere near heavy enough to crush her body. She was still standing and as the dust settled around her she realized she was holding parts of the eroded alloy in her hands. She held it up to inspect it, then closed her fist. It crumbled easily in her grip.
The collapse had been no accident. She looked at the culprit, only to see the great limb of the vine had been severed in the incident. Up above, through the hole of the now missing decks, she saw a tangle of more vines hanging guiltily over the edge.
The incident had distracted her from the software attack. The data that had hit her had begun to unpack itself, and within seconds an audio file had been constructed and had opened up. Unable to stop it, she heard a voice in her head.
“Of all the criminals I’ve met in my years of service, these are the most depraved. They lured us here with a distress call. We sent down with the intention to help and give charity to these poor souls. Instead, they shot us down from orbit.
“It amuses me to imagine the look on their face when they discovered their big catch was an embryo bank, rich only with the genetic material of a million animals, plants and fungi from across the galaxy.
“When we crashed into this crater they immediately laid siege to our ship and took us captive. Six days of uncertainty followed. They handled us roughly, barely fed us, let alone cared for our other needs, and when we discovered their intentions with us, we mustered a resistance. We overpowered our captors, stole their weapons, and have been giving them hell ever since. Not so bad for a crew of second-rate scientists.
“But I’m afraid our valiant fight is in vain. Realizing they’ve lost, the Venelli have sabotaged their own ship. I’m afraid to say, we are now stranded on this hostile rock.”
The audio file ended, thankfully leaving nothing malicious in her files. The ship had only wanted to tell its story, saving one last bit of energy to force upon anyone who would listen. Cora investigated the data packet, and discovered several more recordings.
Descending lower through the ship, the wreckage became completely consumed by the overgrown vines. She could not identify what plant it was exactly or which world it originated from. It was disconcerted by the vibrations of her footfall, although the vines were blind to her so long as she didn’t touch them. Any contact with them was met with a quick violent reaction. Twice the vines whipped out blindly, fortunately missing her, and then backed away uncertain. Cora suspected that had she been a living thing with a body temperature, she might not have been so lucky.
“It’s almost been a year now, and still no rescue.” Initiating the next audio file, Cora heard the man’s voice again. “We’ve made a nice little colony for ourselves. There is fertile ground here, and by mutation and a healthy input of brilliance we have successfully sown from our seeds banks and reaped vegetation. Tell a strong man his life is in danger, and he’ll summon the strength of a god. Tell this to an intellectual, and he’ll become a genius.
“The bad news is the ship is losing power, and the creatures we’ve kept confined in their cages will die if we don’t release them. I’m worried about what impact they’ll have on this little ecosystem we’ve built for ourselves. And then there’s the predators…
“But, my opinion seems not to matter anymore. This new council has strangled my influence on my crew. I objected to the use of the chemical growth accelerant M6-9, but I was outvoted by this little democracy, and now a jungle is sweeping through the craters and caverns.
“I know this vote is going to go the same way, because those damn carnivores on the council can’t rise above their cravings for meat.”
Brushing aside a curtain of hanging vines, Cora found that the ship abruptly ended and she was one step away from a long fall. She was initially blinded by the brilliant daylight, and when her optics adjusted she saw just how vast the crater was.
The white rock bowl was vibrant on all sides with the thriving vines of this single plant. And, up towards the gaping rim, its stalks reached up and flowered like giant purple radar dishes. Cora scanned the inside of the crater for her humans. Amongst the sea of green serpents, she was horrified to discover the carcasses of a great many spaceships similar in size to the Rift. There was at least three score in all, of a great variety and from different eras. It seemed it would have been their fate too had she landed the Daragan Rift in this crater like she was supposed to.
However, for as long as she scanned the ship graveyard, she saw no sign of the humans. The source of the distress signal was emitting from the bottom of the crater where the Venelli craft would have once lay. Cora began her descent, following a natural path that threaded around the bowl.
#
Letting her attention be briefly drawn away, she unwittingly bumped into a dangling corpse. For one horrific second Cora feared it could be one of her friends but was relieved to see it was one of the woolly tigers tangled and hanging from the vines. Its corpse was a desecrated mess of gory entrails and matted fur and it dangled like the bulbous bloody fruit of this plant. It wasn’t alone, five others hung here, all in varying stages of deterioration.
Suddenly Cora heard the fluttering of wings and the shriek of a dactyl. Instinctively she contracted into a ball. When she felt brave enough to open one of her optics she saw that the winged terror up in the tree was in fact a forgery, an obscene but convincing growth attached to the vines. The sound box, a bulbous green sack, was working like the muscles of a heart, contracting and relaxing, sucking and then exhaling, imitating the call of a dactyl. These tigers had been lured down, climbing expertly down the cliff-side to try and get the dactyl, only to be ensnared.
“We’re falling out of the race for survival,” said the scientist, as she played the final recording, continuing her search.
“The colony is destroyed, and we are scattered. It seems to be every day now my group of loyalists discover another body, mutilated in some horrific way. The predators are battling for supremacy and we can’t keep up the fight. Out of munition, and out of luck, we are swiftly heading for extinction.
“The M6-9 accelerant is just too potent. It’s mutating everything. Even the little Sardovian Fly Trap that sat on the desk in my office has somehow tasted the chemical. It’s become so prosperous that I can even see it spilling over into the crater. It’s become a genius. It’s developed new ways to bait prey. It has even fooled us. It has learned to imitate the human voice, I could have sworn it was Marsi’s voice I heard calling out to us yesterday. To hear her voice again…
“But we are not without hope. We are now holed up in the Venelli craft. The distress signal, that mellifluous siren who first drew us here, has been repaired. All we are lacking is a way of projecting the signal out to the stars… God, I hope there’s a way.”
Cora stopped immediately. She looked up above to the rim of the crater where the giant purple flowers opened and closed. It was then she realized that she was in the lair of the apex predator of this world. The Sardovian Fly Trap. This houseplant was top of the food chain, and not just of this planet. Of all the carnivores, be it plant or beast, there wasn’t another which had devised a method as ingenious and grandiose as luring spaceships down from the stars, just to grab a bite to eat.
Somewhere the sound of gunfire pounded, and Cora made haste towards it.