Read Space Chronicles: The Last Human War for Free Online Page A

foretold that Tanarac will someday face a terrible crisis, and Vaal-al’s glowing chariot will rise again to save their race.
    General Tragge shook his head in contempt at his tracker’s comparison of Simon, a mere human, to Vaal-al was thoroughly repugnant. The general scolded his officer for the analogy before issuing a few quick orders about secrecy. They left Quarry 33 abruptly.
    “Mark my words, Jix,” Dr. Hadje said. “General Tragge will use this runner event to press his agenda with the Council of Governors. What can I say to counter him? I don’t know. Regardless of how I couch current events, the general needs only to tell the truth. Indeed, a human attacked one of our people. There is no way to diffuse this bitter reality.”

Chapter 7
    “ O w!” Simon cried out. The backs of his hands burned as if scratched by toxic thorns of a pyxt bush.
    He pushed out from under the fern and peered into the twilight looking for water to relieve the stinging. The vague shadow of a short plant sitting on the jungle floor nearby held some promise. Cone-shaped leaves opened upwards, and the base of each leaf widened into a rounded bulge. The young human had seen pictures of such plants and hoped it would hold water. In desperation, he plunged both hands down the throat of one of the larger leaves.
    Water!
    Things floating on its surface bumped his fingers, but that did not matter. Pain alone drove his action. Relief came quickly while his hands remained immersed in the cool fluid, but each time he pulled them out of the plant, the burning returned. After rinsing repeatedly, burning finally subsided to a tolerable, dull ache.
    Simon sat on the ground next to the water-filled plant and looked around his new home. As his eyes adjusted to the dim light, he saw more shades of green than he ever imagined possible.
    A few small water drops clung to the back of Simon’s hand. He instinctively touched them to his lips. Taskers made sure humans had plenty of water, especially on hot days, so he had never experienced real thirst.
    R eturning to the leaf cups that had soothed his burning hands, he pulled open a leaf to see the water inside. Dead insects floated on the surface of muddy brown fluid. A pungent odor, one he did not notice in the rush to find relief for his hands, caused him to hesitate, but growing thirst demanded action.
    The young man sipped some rancid water cupped in his hands. He gagged. Despite needing fluids, he had not yet reached a point where he could overcome natural defenses against such terrible taste and smell.
    Water became his obsession. Tiny drops of water sprinkled down on him from the jungle canopy far above. He tilted his face upward with his mouth open to catch a few of the random drips. As he did, he noticed a dense layer of fog suspended in upper tree limbs. Moisture fell from leaves and branches as water condensed from the mist.
    In a few places, trickles of dew from several leaves combined to form tiny streamlets of pure water, spilling onto the jungle floor. The thirsty young man looked for the largest such rivulet and waited patiently as his mouth filled and cherished each swallow of cool water. The jungle’s newest inhabitant had discovered one of the most important jungle survival secrets.
    After quenching his thirst, Simon leaned against a giant tree to gather his thoughts.
    “What was I thinking?” he chastised himself aloud. “I can’t believe I did this.”
    For a fleeting moment, the idea of finding his way back to the Tasker compound and its safety seemed reasonable, but, then, he cringed at the notion.
    He thought back to childhood classes. One was on the origin of civilizations. Basic essentials drove early cultures, needs that made sense to him in this new world. A crude survival plan formed, one borrowed from those ancient people.
    “Water. Foo d. Shelter,” he said to himself and looked up at the fog-shrouded canopy. “I’ve got water covered. Food . . . I need food.”
    He