Chapter 26 – Others?

Mk23 -IRJ Droplet – Class 7 – Carpe Victoria (Wrecked)

Sector - Unknown

Planet - Unknown

11th July 2342 (BSST)

As I breach the surface I spot it, through the distortion of the water streaming down the hydrophobic paint and the glass screen, through the blinding light so bright, through the leafy canopy so dense.

A wooden slat.

What’s that?

The more I look, the more I see. Up in the canopy of the trees besides the bluffs at the far side of the lake from where I came exists something not quite right. A series of wooden slats. It is mostly obscured by the leaves and branches in my way, but I can see it.

Carefully I swim to the shore, collect my bag and walk over to it. The shifting sands and gravel under my feet crunching as I walk. With a few powerful leaps I’m clambering over the bluffs and standing overlooking the lake. Turning around I head over to the main tree to which the slats are attached. As I gaze up the tree I see more of the shape. It looks almost like a building, like a tree house. Though with the thickness of the trees and the supports it could be much larger. I don’t think this was created by the natives. The house is too unsophisticated and primitive for it to be the ones who created the vents. Something strange is going on here, strange in a different way to the rest of the planet.

Since I doubt the treehouse can support the weight of the suit and me I decide that it would be best if I left it down here and climbed up without it.

Getting out of the suit takes but a moment and then I realise I can take advantage of it and I get back in. Moving the suit closer to the tree I lock it before getting out again. This time the suit is tall enough for me to climb up to the first branches that were far outside my reach at first.

The metal is unforgiving on my bare skin but soon I’m up and standing on its shoulders, my hand braced on the tree. I place a foot on the top of the suits head and jump up into the branches pulling myself up with my arms whilst my feet scrabble at the rough bark on the trunk.

I cut myself a little but get up with relative ease. Getting into the structure takes no time at all and soon I’ve confirmed that it is in fact a tree house.

Well, kind of. The little hut is an outpost of some sort. It’s high enough for me to sit down comfortably without feeling like I’m going to bash my head yet too small for me to stand in. The planks are very roughly cut and are mostly made of logs split in half. The wood still has rough sides and plenty of opportunities for splinters and painful cuts from the rough flooring. The walls were made similarly, and the roof was a thatch style. The wood also had rot creeping in on it, the activity of insects had started to weaken the structure severely and in a few months I expected it wouldn’t even be able to hold my weight.

By one side is a little rope ladder. That I can use to drop down after it’s been extended. It’s coiled up nicely on the floor. The loose fibres springing from the tight braids made it look old and worn and perhaps it was. It didn’t look strong enough to hold me comfortably, but I guess it had done the job since it wasn’t broken. In the length of the rope were knots that would help someone climb up the rope. They were about the size of big apples and were spaced roughly evenly.

The rest of the little treehouse was basically empty, a roughly hewn chair. The chair was made from the stump of a tree that someone had taken an axe to and cut out a roughly human shape hollowing before tying some cushioning to it with basic cord. Additionally, there was also a small window that looked out over the lake. It was the only other thing in the place, obviously not a place for living.

On the opposite side to the rope was a bridge. Well what was left of one. It was loose and floppy the slats lying against the trees as it disappeared off into the canopy. Even if it was sturdy I wouldn’t have followed it without my suit.

The story has been illicitly taken; should you find it on Amazon, report the infringement.

Kicking the rope over I decide to use it to get to the floor. Sliding down the rope isn’t made easy by the knots and I decide to climb down instead. Friction burn wouldn’t be pleasant either.

Once on the floor I enter the suit and follow where I imagine the bridge was leading.

As it turned out the bridge was only about thirty metres long. With another major support in the centre of the gap. The rope bridge had broken and fallen through to the floor in a few places as I walked along. Stepping on the planks turned them to the small crumbed flechettes of wood that would quickly decompose to form the floor of the forest. In short order no one would know they had been there.

As I moved further I could see less and less sign of the bridge and staring up had given me a crick in my neck that took a bit of time to work out. Rolling my head around had fixed it for a short time and that was good enough. The planks at this point were gone and it was only the remains of the holding ropes that guided my path.

A few more steps into the wood and the tree line opened up again. What I saw there surprised me perhaps most of all. At the edge of the tree line was a huge barricade of trees, well bits of trees. The trunks had been chopped down, the earth dug out and the logs then buried in the dirt enough that they stood firmly. Each log pressed against the two behind it in such a way that they all supported each other. It was the kind of camp I had been wanting to make. A circular defensive wall that would keep out the nasties.

With eagerness yet trepidation I walked up to the wall. Silent despite my will I snuck up to the wall and tried to look through the gaps. I could see a few things dotted around but nothing of consequence.

The remnants of the rope bridge crossed over the wall and beyond that I couldn’t see anything. Obviously, this was a way in. There probably wouldn’t be another if they used this system.

As I looped around the camp I looked for trees I could climb with the suit but there didn’t seem to be a single one.

Nor were there weaknesses in the wall. The humanoids had obviously tried to get in from the deep scratches in the trunks. If they’d had the intelligence it wouldn’t have been long till they breached since some of the logs were barely standing. Feasibly I could make an opening through these weaknesses but it would take time. Even with the suit I wasn’t as strong as a humanoid and they had struggled to get through. The fingers as sharp as anything I had on me had bitten in deep but ineffectively.

It’s funny how that thought stayed with me as I rounded the next section and a huge hole in the wall appeared. My heart sank as I realised the implications. Even if they hadn’t been human I was looking forward to conversation.

The entrance was busted open, wood splinters everywhere. The logs tilted forwards and battered as the humanoids had bust through in an obvious frenzy. The smells and sounds of life had driven them crazy with wanton need and they had come in droves and broken into the defence. At the entrance there was a set of remains. Brutalised and torn to pieces I suspected its fellow humanoids had ripped it to shreds when it was injured or killed by whomever had lived inside.

As I got closer I saw more details of its body and the beast that lurked in my nightmares was just as terrifying and monstrous as I remembered.

A truly top tier beast. Disfigured yet not. There was no way in which it was not horrific, from the empty eyes and loose yet not flesh, the needle-sharp teeth that sat in the jaw and the gluey ghastly gloop that oozed from its pores. The smell of the pus that coated the body in a slimy film that had protected the carcass from the insects and decomposers stunk to high heaven.

What an abhorrent sight.