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again to think.
    Finally he decided to
follow the riverbank from just inside the jungle, close enough to
the river to notice a bridge or shallows if there were any. It was
the safest bet, and the ASKALON-9 had made it clear that the safest option was the only option
here .
    He started walking, thirsty
from the sound of water gurgling at the banks. The humidity was
oppressive, and he knew he was losing too much water from sweat. He
needed to find some clean water, and soon. There seemed to be a
faint path among the trees and creepers and he followed it,
grateful to make better time. He kept an eye on the river, but
checked his route every few seconds for laser sensors.
    As he stepped over a
fallen log a dark shape in the trees caught his peripheral vision,
and he froze. It was a good-sized log, hanging from thick cables
tied around trees branches above. He slowly scanned the area,
noticing a tripwire on the ground in front of him that had already
been loosed, its pin lying on the trail ahead. The wire tripped the
log, which had swung down, continued across, and become tangled in
some creepers at the far end of its swing. But why have a random log here?
    Then John saw the pit. He wouldn’t have
noticed it if it hadn’t been for a dark patch on the ground,
something not quite right, a corner of the pit where the palm fronds littering the path had fallen
in. When he realized what he was looking
at, his eyes traced its dimensions. Three meters by three, placed
directly across the path. Mentally he cursed himself for his
stupidity. Paths were made for a reason.
Just like fences.
    He crouched at the edge
and lifted off one of the palm fronds still covering the pit. Down the
hole in the darkness, he could see vertical sides carved from the
dark soil, with some small vines already growing across the shaft.
It was deep. He ripped off more fronds, letting in the dim green
light. There was something at the bottom. He leaned down for a
closer look, wrinkling his nose at the smell.
    Bones .
    They were browned from the
rot clinging to them. He saw a ribcage and mandible, then a
partially buried skull. The clothing had long since rotted away.
The bottom of the pit was lined with upright stakes driven into the
earth and shaped to sharp points. The angle of the skeleton’s
ri b cage, pierced
by two stakes, made him wince. A bad way
to die. I’m going to have to be very careful on this
island.
    He stood. The path was no
longer an option, but he still needed to follow the river. His
thirst made him instinctively reluctant to leave the water. He’d
just have to chance discovery by walking along the banks. The air
would be better, and perhaps a breeze would rid him of the
insects.
    Five minutes later he found
the crossing.
    A road spanned the river at
a narrow point, raised slightly above the water level on pontoons.
The water slid underneath in a sheet as smooth as glass before
tumbling down in a small waterfall that stretched from bank to
bank, perhaps half a meter high.
    There was no sign of
activity on either bank, but he waited for ten minutes, crouching
behind a dense stand of grass. The road came out of the jungle from
the west. He wasn’t sure if it was the same maintenance track that
followed the fence. It disappeared into the jungle on the far side
and seemed to skirt the bottom of the hill with the antenna, now
clearly visible from where he sat.
    He gave it five more
minutes , studying the area and assessing
the risks. Finally he decided it time to make a move, and he started for the crossing, ready to sprint across.
Just as his foot stepped onto the packed earth, he heard something
coming down the road behind him. A bend ten meters away hid
whatever approached. He darted back into the jungle, rolled into a
swath of grass, and lay still.
     
     
     
     

5
     
    T wo bots emerged from the jungle road and began to cross the
river. They were like nothing John
had ever seen before, heavily modified
quadrupeds and in much better shape