Deathworld. Chapter 23, 24, 25, 26, 27, 28
23
Tree branches had broken ~he lifeboat’s fall, the bow rockets had burned out in emergency blast, and the swamp had cushioned the landing a bit. It was still a crash. The battered cylinder sank slowly into the stagnant water and thin mud of the swamp. The bow was well under before Jason managed to kick open the emergency hatch in the waist.
There was no way of knowing how long it would take for the boat to go under, and Jason was in no condition to ponder the situation. Battered and bloody, he had just enough drive left to get himself out. Wading and falling, he made his way to firmer land, sitting down heavily as soon as he found something that would support him.
Behind him, the lifeboat burbled and sank under the water. Bubbles of trapped air kept rising for awhile, then stopped. The water stilled and, except for the broken branches and trees, there was no sign that a ship had ever come this way.
Insects whined across the swamp, and the only sound that broke the quiet of the woods beyond was the cruel scream of an animal pulling down its dinner. When that had echoed away in tiny waves of sound everything was silent.
Jason pulled himself out of the half trance with an effort. His body felt like it had been through a meat grinder, and it was almost impossible to think with the fog in his head. After minutes of deliberation, he figured out that the medikit was what he needed. The easy-off snap was very difficult and the button release didn’t work. He finally twisted his arm around until it was under the orifice and pressed the entire unit down. It buzzed industriously; though he couldn’t feel the needles, he guessed it had worked. His sight spun dizzily for awhile then cleared. Pain-killers went to work and he slowly came out of the dark cloud that had enveloped his brain since the crash.
Reason returned and loneliness rode along with it. He was without food, friendless, surrounded by the hostile forces of an alien planet.
There was a rising panic that started deep inside of him, that took concentrated effort to hold down.
“Think Jason, don’t emote.” He said it aloud to reassure himself, but was instantly sorry, because his voice sounded weak in the emptiness, with a ragged edge of hysteria to it. Something caught in his throat and he coughed to clear it, spitting out blood. Looking at the red stain, he was suddenly angry. Hating this deadly planet and the incredible stupidity of the people who lived on it. Cursing out loud was better and his voice didn’t sound as weak now. He ended up shouting and shaking his fist at nothing in particular, but it helped. The anger washed away the fear and brought him back to reality.
Sitting on the ground felt good now. The sun was warm and when he leaned back he could almost forget the unending burden of doubled gravity. Anger had carried away fear, rest erased fatigue. From somewhere in the back of his mind, there popped up the old platitude:
Where there’s life, there’s hope. He grimaced at the triteness of the words, at the same time realizing that a basic truth lurked there.
Count his assets. Well battered, but still alive. None of the bruises seemed very important, and no bones were broken. His gun was still working, it dipped in and out of the power holster as he thought about
it. Pyrrans made rugged equipment. The medikit was operating as well. If he kept his senses, managed to walk in a fairly straight line and could live off the land, there was a fair chance he might make it back to the city. What kind of a reception would be waiting for him there was a different matter altogether. He would find that out after he arrived. Getting there had first priority.
On the debit side there stood the planet Pyrrus. Strength-sapping gravity, murderous weather, and violent animals. Could he survive? As if to add emphasis to his thoughts, the sky darkened over and rain hissed into the forest, marching toward him. Jason scrambled to his feet and took a bearing before the rain closed down visibility. A jagged chain of mountains stood dimly on the horizons; he remembered crossing them on the flight out. They would do as a first goal. After he had reached them, he would worry about the next leg of the journey.