After about a half-hour, the jungle became thicker, and vines started becoming more common. Woody ropes ran from the treetops to the ground and back up again. Some places were so thick with them, I was tempted to start cutting or ripping them apart. However, I didn’t want to make it too easy for a predator to track me, if there even was one intelligent enough on the planet to do so.
Another half-hour brought me up to an encouraging landmark: a hill. An elevated position was perfect for my purposes. A good overview of the surrounding terrain would give me a sense of direction and, potentially, a way out. Up to that point, the ground had been relatively flat.
As I stalked up the fifty-degree mound, I noted how easy it was for me. The drugs had been out of my system for hours, but I still expected some of the after-effects to linger. I thought I should be tired, or, at least, to tire easily, but I felt fine and wondered if the planet’s atmosphere had more oxygen than I was used to. I filed that idea away for later.
About a hundred yards up the hill, rocks started showing through the undergrowth, but the vines became a dense, tangled mess. I looked both left and right, but didn’t see a way around, so I decided it was time to go through. I picked a spot that didn’t look as dense as the rest and gave a vine an experimental tug. It tugged back, and I became aware of another ambush predator.
I ducked and heard one of its vine-like tentacles woosh through the air above me. A high-pitched hiss echoed from somewhere near the canopy. I couldn’t blame it. I probably looked delicious.
Its next attack would go for one of my ankles—fifty-fifty chance there. My prediction proved true when another vine snapped toward my feet. I hopped one step back and kept my head on a swivel. Another tentacle shot out at me like a knight’s lance. I made a little hop to one side and whacked it with my rock. The hiss echoed through the treetops again. A thinner vine tried to sneak up on me along the ground. One quick stomp with my heel sent it recoiling back into the undergrowth.
A shadow from the dim light alerted me to another vine behind me. This one didn’t attack immediately but crept toward me with a measured slowness. I watched its shadow advance, allowing it to get closer before it suddenly shot forward. I ducked, caught the thing with my free hand, and yanked. A few dozen yards of vine tumbled toward me like the slack of a rope.
Another vine snapped in front of my face. In a movement that was almost too fast to believe, I slipped the rock into my pants and used my now-free hand to snatch the attacking vine from the air. I took both the vines and crossed them over each other. A tug here, a pull there, over, under, around, and I successfully tied a fisherman’s knot, securing both tentacles together. That made the thing hiding in the treetop really hiss. It was a long, windy screech. But the sky was growing dark, and I had places to be, so the time for fun and games was over.
I took out my rock, made a slow circuit of the clearing, and smashed several tentacle strikes away. When I found what looked like the thickest one, I returned my rock to my pants, grabbed the vine with both hands, and yanked hard. I almost had to dive out of the way as a big spider-like thing fell from the canopy and landed with a heavy thud.
It was black and covered in thin white fur about two inches long. Several circular wounds indicated places where tentacles were once attached to its body. I didn’t see a mouth, which meant it either absorbed its victims like a venus flytrap, or it had landed on its mouth after I’d pulled it from the trees. I wasn’t interested in turning it over to test my theory.
The spider-thing started leaking brown stuff right away. I guessed the fall was more than it was able to take. Also, the bug’s innards smelled like hot trash. There was no way the thing was edible. Just for good measure, I grabbed my rock and and chucked it hard at the thing.
When the rock hit, the big bug popped, spraying its brown gore everywhere. I dived out of the trajectory of the exploding spider-thing and landed under the fronds of a big shrub. I waited until the spattering noises stopped before lifting my head. Definitely not something I wanted to try to eat.
I stood, being cautious not to get any of the guts on myself. If any of the creatures on the planet hunted using something resembling the sense of smell, the vomit-like odor of the… sky-spider would certainly attract attention.
No, not sky-spider. It had been a “teloc.”
I’d never seen a teloc before, and I couldn’t recall ever reading about them. Still, I knew the name was accurate. Exactly how I knew, I couldn’t say.
Well, maybe I could. The Lakunae. They’d said I’d have memories of their memories, and knowledge of the teloc seemed like whatever the hell they’d been referencing. They’d also said I’d have strength of their strength, so I figured I’d found out what that meant, too.
For now, I had to keep moving before the breeze shifted and the nasty smell of teloc guts found its way up my nose. I decided to avoid the elevated position and the creatures around it. If even half of the vines I’d passed were actually teloc limbs, then I’d be in trouble. They seemed to favor the high ground, so I avoided the jungle and stuck to where the land sloped into what was almost a valley.
I walked for another half-hour. The sky—what I could see of it—was
