As I scanned the jungle for any sign of where the tail had crashed, my breathing started to grow ragged. When I exited the jungle for a stretch of grassland, I began to cough. My throat felt raw as the coughs racked my body. The breathing fluid was almost completely out of my system. I dropped to my knees and caught a glimpse of something shiny in the tall grasses. I crawled toward it and saw a jagged piece of metal with the word Hesper stenciled on it. I ran forward, powered by my excitement, though each movement was a battle as my air ran out.
Spotting a small, spindly tree, I scrambled up to get a better view. I saw the enormous tail of the cargo ship, just up the hill, its reflective surface shimmering in the sun. The tail section’s crash had scorched a flat path through the terrain. I leapt out of the tree and struggled up the hill. Wheezing uncontrollably, I fought for every step. Ninety meters from the tail, I stumbled and fell. I clutched my chest, choking on the planet’s air. Using my sleeve to cover my mouth, I staggered to my feet and kept moving.
I dragged myself into the wreckage and rummaged through debris in a desperate search for more breathing fluid. I fought back dizziness, my chest heaving, each breath ripping through my lungs. Light and dark whirled together as my vision began to fade and unconsciousness threatened to overtake me for the last time. But somehow, amid all the chaos, I found a container of breathing fluid still attached to a section of the wall. I fell to my knees beside it, tearing it open. I had never seen anything so beautiful. I managed to open a vial and inhaled the breathing fluid, feeling the oxygen fill my lungs once more. After pausing to catch my breath, I took another vial. I needed it. I fell on my back, gulping the precious oxygen.
Once my breathing steadied, I crawled to the cutlass rack and grabbed one. It felt good to be armed again. Now that I could breathe, I wanted to find out what had happened to the Ursa. As I ran through the cutlass’s configurations, I scanned the area, trying to figure out what could have happened. From the damage to the surrounding trees and ground, I could see the path the ship’s tail had taken when it crashed. Tracking the debris path, I headed down the slope, figuring that if the Ursa had been flung from the storage hold, the momentum would have carried it this way. My dad had said the Ursa was probably either dead or contained, and I could only hope he was right. I approached the Ursa’s pod, my cutlass extended in front of me. As I circled around, I saw that the pod had been shattered. Binding straps lay broken on the ground. I checked the area—no dead Ursa around. It had definitely escaped. Worst-case scenario.
But I had to focus on finding the beacon before I worried about the Ursa. As I searched the wreckage, I found a working naviband and snapped it on. Immediately, it began reading my vitals, and I tried to reach my dad. I’d been so busy trying to survive that I hadn’t had much time to worry about him. But now, I could only hope I wasn’t too late to save him. “Dad, are you there?”
All I heard was a lot of static. “Dad, I made it to the tail,” I said, hoping he could hear me. I heard little bursts that I wanted to think were his voice, but nothing clear enough to be sure. Still searching the debris, I spotted the beacon and pulled it free. When I turned it on, I held my breath, hoping with everything in me that this one would actually work. It whirred to life, and relief washed over me. Except when I fired it, nothing happened. Fighting to stay calm, I stared at the beacon’s screen. Electrical interference, it said.
I repeated my message, but still, no answer. Now the worry surged. I knew he was hurt bad. I knew I took longer than I should have to get to the tail. If only I had listened to him from the beginning. I could have followed his plan and gotten here sooner and we would both be safe aboard a rescue ship by now.
Repositioning the beacon, I tried again to fire it. And again, it failed. This stupid hunk of metal failed. “Dad, please copy,” I said, my voice breaking. “Dad, you’re still there, right? Can you hear me?” After every-thing I’d been through, I couldn’t lose him too. Not now. “Dad, please—the Ursa is not contained!”
The rage and frustration welled up, uncontrollable—I’d fought so hard to reach the one thing that could save us, and now it wouldn’t work. I gave in to my anger, throwing my backpack, screaming as I sliced into the ship with the cutlass. Whirling, shouting my fury to the sky, I threw the beacon to the ground, cutlass raised above it. But I stopped myself. Maybe there was still some way to make the beacon work. I couldn’t give up, not after everything I’d been through. And although I couldn’t hear my dad, I knew what he would say: “Take a knee.” I could almost hear his voice as I dropped to one knee. For the first time, I wasn’t doing it because he ordered me to. I was doing it because I knew it would help. I tried to think, wiping away tears, slowly pulling myself back together.
Looking up, I noticed the heavy cloud layer over me. It occurred to me that that could be the cause of the interference. If I could get above it, the beacon might be able to transmit. Scanning the terrain for a way to get up that high, I saw a black mountain in the distance, its peak above the cloud layer. Grabbing the beacon, I sprinted toward the peak.
In a clearing, I saw dead hyenas dangling from the trees. I hesitated, but there was no choice but to keep going.
Only one thing I knew of would’ve killed like that: the Ursa. I kept running, but now I was glancing around nervously, wondering where the monster lurked. But I knew that was what it wanted. It was trying to scare me, to make me release more pheromones so I would be easier to track. I wouldn’t let it. I am Kitai Raige, son of Cypher Raige, and I was going to save both our lives.
When I reached the base of the mountain, I saw hundreds of bright red lava rivers rushing down its dark slopes. It was an amazing sight, and I was struck again by what a beautiful planet we humans nearly destroyed. Bursting out of the jungle, I ran up the slope, navigating between the slender ribbons of lava. I thought I heard something in the jungle behind me, but I kept moving. Fast and fluid now, revitalized by the infusion of oxygen. Soon I was inside the cloud layer, surrounded by a dense white mist. That’s when I noticed that my lifesuit had turned black. I heard the scuttling of something approaching and brandished my cutlass. I couldn’t see, though, so it wasn’t like I could aim. Backing up, I found myself at the entrance to a cave. “Dad?” I said, hoping he could hear me now that I was near the volcano’s peak. But still I got no reply. I knew the thing was close, though. Better stay quiet.
I hurried into the cave and found a tunnel covered in sparkling stones. Stalactites and stalagmites filled it, glittering in the light from my lifesuit. I ran deeper into the cave, not knowing if the Ursa was in front of me or behind me. All that mattered was that I knew it was coming for me. I searched for a way out of the cave, and saw a shaft of light beaming down from the ceiling. Suddenly, the Ursa decamoflaged right in front of me, and then leapt out of sight.
But I had seen an Ursa up close before, so the sight didn’t freeze me in my tracks. I moved deeper into the cave. I navigated carefully around the spear-like stalagmites as a scream echoed through the cave—another way for the Ursa to frighten me. Except I had heard an Ursa’s scream before, so it didn’t startle me now. I ran as fast as I could on the uneven terrain, my cutlass extended. Ducking behind a thick stalagmite, I watched the cave’s entrance. But I kept a clear sense of exactly where that shaft of light shot down from the ceiling, because that might be my only way out.
Scrambling low between stalagmites, I noticed a large crystal that had fallen across two rocks, and crawled beneath it. Eyes darting around the cave, I noticed dust dropping from above and I knew that was where the Ursa was. Just in time.