Then an entire section of the nest broke off from the main structure. The leopard clinging to it fell with it to the ground far below. Another section broke off. And another. Soon all that was left of the nest was the bowl-like shape in the center of it. Before Kitai could react, one of the leopards crawled over the edge and sank its claws into a newborn bird. The cadet stabbed the leopard with his cutlass and watched it retreat back over the edge of the nest.
But there were others climbing in from every direction. Kitai spun his cutlass, slicing one of the leopards’ paws.
“Leave them alone!” he cried out.
Suddenly he wasn’t alone in his efforts to defend the nest. The adult bird, which had engaged the first leopard creature, rose into the air with the leopard’s hind leg in its beak. Then it dropped the leopard, which fell end over end until it hit the ground with a heavy thud. Free now, the bird swooped in and snatched another leopard from behind. It dragged the leopard out of the nest and tossed it into the air, where it became another victim of the planet’s gravity.
Meanwhile, one of the other leopard creatures reached a newborn bird. As it began mauling it, Kitai rushed forward and skewered the leopard’s flank. The leopard writhed in pain and, still clutching the baby, plummeted over the side of the nest.
Kitai and the adult bird continued to fight off the leopards. By the time the last of the beasts was thrown to the ground, he was breathing hard and was drenched with sweat. He looked around and saw that none of the newborns remained in the nest. Their shells lay shattered and empty.
All for nothing? Kitai asked himself.
With a screech, the massive bird dived from the nest, no doubt in search of its young. I’ve got to leave, Kitai thought. But he stood there for a moment, the cutlass in his hand, wishing he could have saved at least one of the baby birds. Finally, he retracted the ends of the cutlass and snapped it back onto his pack. Then he donned the pack and started climbing down from the tree. It wasn’t all that hard. There were plenty of branches and vines to hang on to. Finally, he landed on the ground.
That was when Kitai saw the bird through the foliage. She was standing amid the carcasses of her babies. As he looked on, she raised her head and screamed. He could hear pain in that sound. The pain of loss. It almost sounded human as it ripped through the forest.
Again the bird bowed her head and touched it to the lifeless newborns. Then she screamed again, this time even longer. Kitai recognized that sound, that sense of loss. He had felt it himself, after all. Everyone in his family had felt it. He watched a little longer. Then he left the bird behind in its misery, backed up into the jungle, and slipped away.
He hadn’t gone far, however, before he realized that something was wrong. Abruptly, he checked his wrist and felt a fresh wave of panic when he saw the naviband was missing. It must have broken free when the leopard creature slashed at him. This was a new complication he really did not need.
“Come on, no!” Kitai cried out in frustration. The woods echoed his words back at him.
It was hard enough to traverse a treacherous landscape with all kinds of obstacles, both living and otherwise. But to do so without a working naviband…? Kitai looked around. He was all alone, cut off from his father for good, and he had no idea how long he had until the sun went down.
Panicked, he ran through the dense jungle ahead of him, crashing through branches, trying to gain altitude to catch the sun before it vanished. He ran so fast, so desperately, that he was out in the open on a high plateau before he knew it. Skidding to a halt, Kitai saw that he was in the midst of ancient ruins. A dam, he thought. He had never seen one before, though he had read about them.
Suddenly, a shadow passed over him. He looked up and saw the condorlike bird in the sky, clipping the tops of trees, flying recklessly, almost angrily. It was a scary sight. Was it trying to hurt itself because it had allowed its young to be killed? Was it feeling guilt? Sadness?
It’s a bird, Kitai reminded himself. But it wasn’t like the birds he had known all his life on Nova Prime. It had evolved in the time since humankind had left the planet. As he thought that, the bird rocketed straight up toward the sun. Angry. Definitely angry.
But Kitai had more to worry about than the condor creature. He could see his breath starting to freeze in the air. The temperature was dropping rapidly. The bird might have the luxury to run wild, to let her emotions get the best of her. But I don’t. Not if I’m going to live through the night.
Kitai steadied himself, took control. He wasn’t going to panic, wasn’t going to let his emotions get in the way. He was going to keep a cool head no matter what. He was tired. He was lost. But it was going to be all right. Figuring the bird would know where to find a warm spot, he took off after her.
It wasn’t easy keeping up with something that could fly, but he did his best. Sprinting through the jungle, he moved toward what he hoped was a geothermal zone or at least some kind of shelter. All the while, the sun dropped through the sky like a stone.
iii
Cypher, trapped in the ship’s cockpit, felt a wave of panic wash over his battered body as the connection with the naviband was terminated abruptly. Something had happened to the device or, worse, to his son. Furiously his fingers tapped controls, checked probe after probe. Images blasted at him—of mountains, of jungles, of beaches—but Kitai was nowhere to be seen.
He has to be somewhere, Cypher thought. “Come on,” he said out loud, his voice cracking with the strain. “Where are you?” He scanned a stretch of plains covered with herds of evolved bison, clefts full of twisted foliage, a rushing river that churned through a pine forest. But try as he might, he couldn’t come up with a sign of his son.
Please, he thought, be alive. Be alive…
As Kitai ran through the jungle, the plants on either side of him began to close up on themselves. The world was frosting over again. Kitai looked left and right for shelter but didn’t see a single possibility. Then he caught a glimpse of a small hoglike creature running just in front of him. As far as he could tell, the hoglike thing didn’t seem worried or lost. It seemed to know exactly where it was going.
Bereft of any other viable options, he decided to follow it. It wasn’t easy. He had to use all his quickness and agility, scramble under bushes and leap over piles of rocks, swing around tree trunks and crash his way through branches heavy with leaves. Finally, Kitai saw the creature burrow into a hole in the ground. A moment later, three smaller specimens of the same species followed it.
The ice was like a tide, crackling its way across the landscape in his direction. In a matter of seconds, it would be on top of him. Kitai didn’t hesitate. He tried to dive into the creatures’ hole. Unfortunately, he was a lot bigger than they were. As the frost crept over him, he picked up a flat stone and used it to start digging to make the hole bigger. His fingers growing colder by the moment, he dug for all he was worth. Finally, the hole was big enough. Just in time, Kitai slid his body into it.
He thought he would find a hollow where he could curl up with the hog creatures. Instead, he started sliding along something slick and wet. Not just a little, either. He must have slid ten meters before he came to something soft and grassy. Not that Kitai could see down there. He was just going by the way it felt.
Need light, he thought, and hit an area on his lifesuit. Instantly a section of the suit lit up, dispelling the darkness, and he saw that the hog hole was actually a cave with smooth stone walls. Kitai moved between them. The light from his suit illuminated the stone surfaces, revealing a collection of beautifully colored cave paintings. One of them showed herds of bison. Another showed flocks of birds. Still another showed a primitive hunt.