Legacy

A planet in lovely shades of green and blue, accentuated by swirling silver clouds, dominates the central screen. I stare at it lost in thought, observe the dawn line inching forward almost imperceptibly. Marc's nasal voice tears me out of my reverie.
"Happy now, Janice?"
"Not until I set foot on the planet of legends."
Marc snorts and turns his muscled body back to the navigation controls. He is handsome and a damn fine pilot, almost good enough to put up with his unpleasant attitude. I'm glad the ordeal of his mockery will be over soon. If my theory holds, he will be sorry to have doubted me in the first place.
I call up my notes and check the hand-drawn maps, meticulously based on ancient information. It took almost a decade to assemble the puzzle, solve the riddle and locate the forbidden planet. But here we are, in geostationary orbit above a world that isn't supposed to exist.

Gino steps onto the bridge, his lean face unreadable as always. I'm not one to look a gift horse in the mouth, but sometimes I wonder why he bothered to sponsor our expedition. Sure, he has the money to spare, as single heir of an infamous father. But the guy never shows emotion, his eyes a cold blue, his face a chiselled mask.
Marc is here because he needs the money to keep his ship running, Joan joined for the adventure while me, I want to prove my theories. But Gino? He paid for the whole gig without stating his reasons. Well, we might find out soon. His thoughtful question calls for my attention.
"Where are we going to land?"
"Not sure yet, I'd like to complete a surface scan first. Marc, can you give us a slow tour of the planet?"
With Gino here, the pilot complies without another complaint. The next few hours I spend glued to the scanner, straining my eyes. Joan joins me for a while, but her poor patience is proverbial. Gino proves to be far more helpful: He sits slumped into the adjacent chair and studies my readouts simultaneously.
"Hey, have you seen that? Amongst those trees, are these geometrical patterns?"
He's right, there are certain regularities, right angles in structures mostly hidden by lush vegetation. This tells me exactly what to search for. Soon, other odd shapes become discernible around the first ones. Even Marc starts to show interest and voluntarily approaches the hidden structures.
"So it's true," whispers Gino.
Then his eyes lock with mine in mutual comprehension.
"Marc, see the bare rock north of the anomalies? Can you bring your bird down there?"

~ ~ ~

The hatch clanks open, and a waft of warm, moist air fills the lock. It's perfectly breathable, just as Joan's thorough analysis stated. However, I'm the only volunteer to chance the planet's ambient conditions without spacesuit. I feel more than a little nervous about testing my theories in such a blatant way. But my pride couldn't let Marc detect my doubts.
Slowly, I take several deep breaths. The air is perfect, clean, slightly on the moist, warm side, and smells of adventure. I pick up my pack and climb down the cranky ladder. The hard ground is too flat to be natural rock. Must be concrete or something. I grin, another point to Janice and her pet theory. In places, weeds grow out of fissures in the cracked surface. It crosses my mind how lucky we are to have found such a convenient landing pad. I walk briskly to its edge and the true wilderness beyond.
A beautiful winged creature flutters above a bright yellow blossom. Fascinated, I study its erratic flight path and iridescent wings. They call up mental childhood images. Butterflies were not amongst the few species humans brought along when leaving their home in haste.

Another grin spreads the corners of my mouth. I was right: This forgotten world, hidden in the system of a small, yellow star, is humanity's planet of origin. Legend has it that human Earth was destroyed, blasted to stellar dust by the war's last enormous nuclear explosion. In reality, our ancestors left a radioactive wasteland to search their luck and a new home amongst the stars. They found both and never looked back. Earth and all they left behind were soon faded memories, turned into children's stories and misty legends.
A few years ago, I stumbled upon a collection of ancient files. I doubted their authenticity at first, but my interest was piqued, and I started serious research. Meticulous work, the pulling of some favours and luck brought me far. But I needed help to fulfil my dream and return to the roots.
Therefore, I resist the desire to explore further, to set foot into the alluring jungle spread out before my senses. I've got to call the others first. Without Joan's scientific and moral support, Gino's financial backing, and Marc's willingness to enter forbidden space, I'd still be stuck in my boring administrative job on Pegasus Four, the rim-station I called home.

~ ~ ~

Marc secures the hatch from outside, and we're finally on our way. Wide-eyed, Joan touches a flower. I giggle and motion her on. Eager to search the ruins, I stride in the direction where we localised them, trying to discern artificial shapes in dense foliage. Only Gino's quick reaction saves me from stumbling into a murky pond at the edge of the landing pad.
"Careful, Janice, this may be our home planet, but it's still an unknown wilderness."
I pry my arm loose of his steady grip, ashamed. Was there concern in his voice? Luckily, Marc distracts us.
"Hey, here is something like a path. It leads south."
South is where the buildings are. We follow Marc along a muddy strip of reddish soil into the trees, the smacking sound of our boots on wet ground the only noise disturbing the peaceful stillness. Soon, we find parts of overgrown constructions, crumbling walls, right angles. These are smaller than the structures visible from orbit though.
It takes almost half an hour to reach the building complex. Here, some walls are whole and still carry roofs. A few show several rows of superimposed windows, staring empty at the forest. Joan points to a smaller house.
"Look, this one is mostly intact."
She's right, the walls are solid, the door resembles an emergency airlock. Marc pries open the control panel, the alloy of the lid green and crumbly but still intact.
"Coded."
"Can you bypass it?"
With a grin, he produces a small electronic device. I don't know what kind of forbidden technology he uses, but minutes later the lock clicks open.
"I reset the code to 1-2-3-4-5, memorise it."
We pass a decontamination unit and what resembles a reception area. From there, a stair leads down into a spacious basement. A dozen living cabins surround a large common area. All rooms are furnished and contain personal items, pictures, books, knickknacks, even what I identify as children's toys. Lights flicker to life as we enter one room after the other and die down as soon as we leave. Marc rubs his stubbly chin.
"Looks like they left long ago, peacefully. No sign of a fight, no bodies."
I agree. The next storey down looks similar, so does the third. On the fourth subterranean level we find storage rooms and life support systems. Gino sighs.
"All very nice, but what was the builders original intention? Unlike the neighbouring houses, this one was meant to last. Even the power supply works!"
"Probably solar cells on the roof. This might be a shelter for humans that couldn't leave the hell their planet had become."
After the greenery outside, the thought of living in this subterranean bunker seems depressing, somehow even worse than a space station. We climb the stairs back to ground level. What we first took for a reception area is a control centre, complete with old-fashioned but working terminals. Joan succeeds to call up a library and I locate countless files concerning human history, culture, art and science. This is all my dreams come true in one marvellous moment. Gino's eyes light up as he leans over my shoulder. Joan flits around like a whirlwind, fascinated by the ancient technology. Marc calls us to reason.
"It's getting late, we should head back to the ship before nightfall—tomorrow is another day."

~ ~ ~

The sun hangs low over the western horizon when we leave the shelter. Joan and Marc chat animatedly, discussing our finds, Gino walks beside me with a frown.
"I wonder... how do you think they died, those last humans? The shelter emanates a cosy, inhabited touch, as if they went for a walk and planned to return."
He's got a valid point. I imagine a group of humans in survival suits, passing the airlock and venturing out to check on the environment. Before I get a chance to share my thoughts, a low chirp resounds through the forest. Joan turns around, eyes wide and dark skin unusually pale. Marc powers up his handgun, an illegal stunblaster. I wish I'd brought something similar, that cry was far too loud for my liking. Cautiously, we move on to a clearing between crumbled buildings. There, they wait for us.

One moment we are alone, the next at least thirty lanky bipeds with long arms, green and brown spotted, wrinkled skin and bald, roundish heads leave the cover of the foliage to confront us. Some carry crude clubs in claw-like hands, others sneer and show rows of pointy teeth. All give a menacing impression. Marc lifts his gun.
"Wait, don't provoke them."
He nods, but his index finger remains near the trigger. Honestly, I'm glad for it. We retreat towards the shelter, the savages block the way to the ship. They start an unnerving kind of chanting, a mixture between strung out howls and clacking noises of the tongue. Gino states the obvious.
"Doesn't sound friendly."
Cautiously, we retreat, closely followed by our foes. One lifts his club and cheers the others on. As a group, we turn and run. My experience as former treadmill champion of Pegasus Four pays. I lead the way until I slip in a giant glob of greenish-blue goo and hit the squishy ground. Immediately, an infernal stench enfolds me. The others stop by my side and gag. I stumble to my feet while trying to free my face of stinking slime. Our followers hold back, discussing something in their guttural language, pointing agitatedly towards the forest. Joan steps closer with pinched nose.
"This makes me really uneasy. What's going on?"
A repetition of the eerie chirp we heard before cuts off my answer. It is followed by crashing steps, and next a giant triangular head on a long, flexible neck peeks out of the forest several metres above the ground. Pale yellow eyes with slitted pupils stare at me unmoving. Scaly, blueish-grey skin is covered in orange dots. While I step back, the eyes follow my every move. The oversized beast lifts first one then a second leg with five flattened toes out of the brush and approaches, eyes fixed solely on me. A pinkish tongue thicker than Marc's body flips out of the mouth to clean the right eye. I don't dare to move.
The natives resume their chant, accompanied by rhythmic clapping. Marc's shot interrupts the irritating song. The beast rears up, hissing. Erect on its hind legs it is taller than our ship and doesn't look harmed, angry at best.
"Janice, run!"
Gino's shout gets me moving. I dash to the right, away from the giant beast and the recovering chorus. The others follow suit. We stumble back towards the ruins where thinner vegetation allows faster running. But the beast gains in open space. Not good, we must seek cover in the jungle—correction, I, not we: Beastie's mind seems to be set on me alone.
"Spread, meet later at the shelter!"
No one takes time to argue. I sprint left, dive beneath the monster's front leg and straight into the forest. Beastie crashes through the undergrowth on pursuit, probably lured on by the infernal stench of blue goo drying on my suit. Maybe it will call off the hunt if I find water to wash off the slime.
Water... Think, Janice, where did you see water? Sure, in the ship's shower. Somehow I doubt the thing will allow me to take a shower—although I certainly need one. But wasn't there a pool beside the landing pad? I duck under low branches and squeeze between trees in the hope to slow down my hungry pursuer. It's tough going through the jungle, thorns and branches snag at my clothes while the beast crushes trees like toothpicks. However, I gain some ground and try to head in the general direction of the ship.

After an eternity, I reach the landing pad. Yes, to the left lies the pool, dark water covered in huge floating leaves. No time to hesitate, I dive in without second thoughts. The tepid water is deeper than expected. I grab a low-hanging branch, suddenly afraid of drowning. On space stations water is too scarce to use for swimming. As soon as my panic subsides, I let myself sink deeper into the pond and wash off the goo.
Beastie leaves the forest in a cloud of torn leaves and broken twigs, stops on the landing pad, sniffs the air, and runs a pink tongue over its eyes. I hold my breath and hope my tactic pays.
The monster is an impressive sight, as it stands there on four massive muscular legs, long tail coiled in an elegant curve, and turns its head this way and that. Now it starts pacing the open space, searching for its lost prey. Before I can breathe a sigh of relief, it discovers the ship. I was right, the beast is bigger than our craft. Sure, it's just a scout-ship and tiny as they go, but it shakes on its landing supports as Beastie snubs it with the nose. Then it walks around and sniffs different parts as if checking if this contraption holds something edible. Finally it reaches the aft end. The smell of the engine must be offensive, Beastie pulls back with an angry hiss and turns to trot towards the forest. Unfortunately, it takes the time to smash our single engine cell with a mighty slash of its powerful tail.

~ ~ ~

The trek back to the shelter takes an eternity. However, I'm the first to arrive. While I wait for the others, I check the library to suppress my anxiety. It's incredible, all this historical information accessible to complete my interrupted studies. Amazingly, the energy source still provides enough power to run basic searches. Before I lose myself in a digital world of marvels, the airlock hisses. Joan enters panting, followed by Gino, his blond hair tousled and clothes mud-stained.
"Glad to be here. Where's Marc?"
"Not back jet. I hope he's all right."
Gino frowns, Joan hugs herself and shivers in spite of the heat. Her voice shakes.
"Are they what I think they are?"
I swallow, hard. 'They' are my worst nightmare come true.
"Well, the beast is a giant lizard, an oversized gecko, if this library can be trusted. The natives, yes, they're human. Or what humans mutated into."
Marc's return spares me further explanations and gives the others time to digest the information. The pilot stumbles through the lock, exhausted, crimson blood running down his left arm. Gino helps him to sit. Marc leans back and closes his eyes, a hand clamped firmly over his wound.
"Jeez, the buggers are aggressive. One bit me, another sliced my arm with a crude tool while two more held me. One licked my blood, and worst, it looked at me with human eyes as blue as Gino's. That was creepy. I shot them, Janice, there was no way."
Gone is his snooty attitude. I can't blame him, this sure was bound to happen earlier or later. Friendly chats don't seem to rank high on the feral natives' list. Gino looks at me, his face void of emotion. I can only imagine the turmoil inside.
"Is this true? Are they really our ancestors?"
"No, they are what became of humans left on Earth to fend for themselves. Mutation in this wasteland was survival."
Marc still presses a hand to his arm, his voice sounds determined.
"This is insane. We head back to the ship, immediately."
I hesitate. Joan gently peels the pilot's bloodied fingers from the wound, one by one, and cleans it. I sigh, aware I owe them the truth.
"The ship is seriously damaged. The giant lizard thing smashed the engine cell. We're stuck."
Marc's continuing curses are thankfully stifled by the rag he bites on while Joan sews his arm. Her practical side comes in handy, and the last humans at least left us an elaborate first aid kit.

I walk over to the tiny safety window overlooking the jungle. The planet out there is beautiful and lethally dangerous. Nobody will find us if we can't send a distress signal, somehow. For the moment, we're safe but stranded on a lost world. Eventually, we will have to venture out, stock up provisions, check for salvageable goods from the ship. I'm already planning an expedition as, unexpectedly, Gino lays his hand on top of mine. It feels warm and comforting. I glance up and see the first ever smile light up his handsome face.
Not all is lost, then.