Free The Mothership by Stephen Renneberg Page A

were pinned, while the arms on the far side arched over the
machine’s spine and speared into the big croc’s shoulders and head. The blade
probes sliced through bone and muscle, opening up a vicious wound while the
croc’s dying impulse was to shake its head, smashing the surveyor into the ground.
The black ovoid exploded, blowing the crocodile’s jaws apart, then they both
collapsed into a mangled pile of bloodied flesh and melted components.
    Laura watched, horrified. Even though she
feared the big croc, she’d also cared for and studied it for almost a year. To
see it destroyed in such a way shocked her. Struggling to maintain her
composure, she climbed out of the house, dumped the backpack beside the food
and water, then approached the dead crocodile. Its headless body lay next to
the shattered black hull of the surveyor. Inside the machine were three
partially melted metal cubes. Sparks flickered from the central cube, which had
exploded and was now peppered with tiny black holes. Running along the sides of
the machine were small compartments filled with rocks, insects and tiny
animals. The rosella lay in one compartment, encased in a solid, translucent
gel like material that perfectly preserved it.
    Nearby, shrapnel from the explosion had
created a four meter high opening in the aviary net, and one by one, birds were
flying through the hole to freedom. On the ground a short distance away was one
of the knife-like probes, still attached to the lower joint of an arm. She
picked it up, testing its weight. The edge was dull, making it useless for slicing,
but the sharp point made it an effective stabbing weapon.
    “Better than nothing,” she murmured,
unaware that her new stabber was a solid state sensor capable of detecting many
more elements than were currently listed on the periodic table.
    Laura returned to her pile of supplies and
placed them in the backpack. Fully loaded, it was heavy, but she’d carried big
packs before on field trips. She took one last look around at the ruins of her
life’s work, a place where she’d been happy, especially after Dan had joined
her. The thought of never seeing him again tore at her heart, forcing her to
choke back tears. She knew she had to focus on survival while she still had the
strength to get out and find help for Dan. If she was to grieve, there would be
time for that later.
    Which way?
    Gan Gan outstation was the closest
aboriginal community, but she’d have to cross both the Koolatong and Maidjunga
Rivers. Only a fool would try that, as they were both swarming with saltwater
crocodiles. That left either the southeast track through the Laurie Creek
Wetlands to the Marrkalawa Community, or the old track to the Ngilipitji
Landing Ground. The Wetlands were full of crocs and deadly snakes, while the
Landing Ground meant a tough hike over Bath Range to an air strip that might
not see a plane for weeks. She decided she’d rather wait alone at the airstrip,
than risk the dangers of the wetlands.
    “Ngilipitji it is.”
    Laura wiped sunscreen on her face, as Dan
would have wanted, then set off for the northwest track.
     
    * * * *
     
    Markus fell in
beside Xeno as they trekked through the forest. “Morning.”
    She glanced at him, sensing his amiable
manner was a mask. His brown calculating eyes made her feel like she was under
a microscope, yet gave away nothing in return. He was a fraction shorter than
her, in his mid thirties, and she guessed by his manner that he was used to
getting his own way.
    “I have a question for you,” he said, when
she didn’t return his greeting.
    “You’re not my type.”
    He smiled. studying her. She was lean,
almost skinny, and although she carried an M16 and a small silver weapon of
inhuman design, she possessed a composed, serious intellect. “That wasn’t my
question.”
    “Then we have nothing to talk about,
because everything I know is classified.”
    “I’ve got the highest security clearance
here. Higher even than