YA Novel excerpt
Dec. 5th, 2005 11:01 am![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
deborahjrossThis is the first chapter of the YA series I've been playing with. Sorry to tease and run, since I have contracted priorities, but I wanted so share how much fun this is. And I'll be posting any publication news, but it probably won't be for a while...
CASTAWAYS OF THE SABERTOOTH PLANET
(The first book of THE SABERTOOTH PLANET series)
by Deborah J. Ross
Chapter 1
When Danica Kuriansky reached the open slope and gazed down at the forest, an ice-tipped wind from the heights swept across her face. She paused, drawing the air into her lungs, still amazed at how good the mountain air on this planet tasted. The breeze carried the blended scents of greenbark and native juniper, of snow and air never tainted by pollution.
At eighteen, Danica was no stranger to wild country. Like many of her friends at Space Academy, she'd grown up in an Explorer family, moving from one newly-discovered planet to the next. Exploration, her father had always said, was in her blood.
Still breathing hard from her climb, she unknotted the scarf around her neck and wiped her forehead, then used it to tie back her damp, honey-blonde hair. The scarf, blue cotton worn to a flannel softness, was a gift from her old diving teacher, who said it would bring her luck. So far, it had. She'd been one of only three students to qualify for an internship after only two years. Some day, she would lead her own team on a world where no human had ever walked.
Careful of the loose shale, Danica turned and scanned the hillside. Above her, the mountains rose sharply, as if eager to embrace the sky. By afternoon, she'd be climbing by toe and finger holds.
Below her lay a broad, glacier-scooped valley where the team had set up camp. Along this slope of hills and across the open valley, trees resembled masses of elongated cones, their needles almost black in the shadows. Meadows pocked the forest where greenbark groves had died back and lacy-branched bushes sprang up in to provide a haven for butterflies and wildflowers.
Danica reached into her pack for her holo camera. She slowly swept it across the panorama, noting evidence of recent earthquake activity, twisted strata and jutting blocks of raw-edged rock with no signs of erosion.
She frowned, lowering the camera. The Stage One robotic survey had reported no recent earthquake activity. So far, Aube had seemed perfect, or the Academy would never have allowed a student to intern here. The planet tested well within the narrow range of temperature and oxygen requirements for a human colony, with a rich array of carbon-based life. The first rule of Exploration was never to trust a machine, no matter how sophisticated. There were dangers no automated system could detect. It was up to the Explorers to make sure the place was safe.
Something about this planet drew her, made her feel intensely alive, something in the high sweet wildness of the mountains, the salt on her cheeks and the wetness underneath her hair, the way the wind cooled her and the sun warmed her.
And the solitude, definitely the solitude.
Tension drained from her body, replaced by the peculiar exhilaration Danica had felt when she first set foot here, seeing things no other human eyes had seen, walking where no one else had ventured. All her life, she would hurl herself off the edge of known space -- first off the diving board, then off the launching pad -- and for a brief time, she would be at peace.
But sometimes it seemed that no matter how far she went, and sometimes it did seem like flight, the noise and tangle of civilization followed even faster.
Danica finished her survey, tucked the camera back into its pocket, and swung her pack across her shoulders. She'd rested long enough. She began to climb again, studying the terrain as she went, placing each foot carefully before shifting her weight. The slate beneath her shifted, releasing a hail of pebbles downslope. She kept her balance easily. Laughter bubbled up in her throat, as if she'd caught the mountain trying to play a trick on her.
She went on, climbing higher toward the next belt of forest. The sun warmed her shoulders through her pocketed Explorer vest. After a while, she made out a net of game trails, one leading around the hill, toward the nearest grove of trees. She bent, searching for the pea-sized droppings of the most common forest herbivores. They were small, the size of Terran fawns, and their meat was fully digestible, although you couldn't live on it alone. French, their biologist, was fond of saying, "Appearances to the contrary, they aren't real deer . . ."
Danica came out of the sunlit patch into the shade of a grove of deciduous trees. Under the canopy of leaves, the trunks stood like pillars in a cathedral. The air went from dry to pungently moist in an instant. Tree roots and fallen branches gnarled the ground beneath her feet. She tripped and fell on to one knee and both hands. The mingled smells of damp needles, earth, and something musky washed over her. Her palms stung with bits of rock and twig.
She looked up, blinking as her eyes adapted to the dense shade.
And froze.
Not four yards from her, a huge shaggy beast lowered its head from where it had been browsing in the treetops. Its shoulder was easily as high as her head, its four legs thick as tree trunks. The short neck joined the body in a hump. Four short tusks emerged from its mouth, two in a shallow forward curve, two more arching back towards its triangular ears. Although it was the size of an elephant, its snout could not be remotely considered a trunk.
The creature made a rumbling noise deep in the basso range and lowered its head. Red-brown eyes looked straight at her.
Not daring to move, even to breathe, Danica watched the creature's nostrils flare to catch her scent. They were paired at the tip of its long, mobile snout, the flesh unfolding with each breath like an intricate paper fan. It blew out a moist gust and inhaled sharply. As it took a step toward her, its fur rippled like a waterfall of russet threads. It shifted its weight and turned its sideways.
Ample brain case, she noted silently. Intelligent? The way it looked her over, neither frightened nor threatening . . .
A thrill shot up her spine. She gathered her legs under her, moving slowly, and stood up. The creature regarded her as calmly as before, still testing her scent, still fixing her with its reddish-brown eyes.
She could almost hear French's voice saying, "Appearances to the contrary, it is not a real elephant . . ." They'd seen the creatures from afar, and named them behemoths before French determined they belonged in the same family as pigs. Neither Danica nor anyone else had ever been this close to one before.
Behemoth, she repeated silently. It was as good a name as any.
This particular behemoth shook its head, and Danica became aware of the flies that had gathered. One landed on her bare arm and bit. The pain was sudden and sharp.
"Ow!" Without thinking, she slapped the fly, leaving a smear of her own blood. At the sound, the behemoth snorted and flung its head up.
"It's all right," she called, trying to make her voice soft and reassuring. "I'm a friend, it's all right . . ." She knew that animals responded to tone more than words; certainly the horses and racing oryxes she had ridden at home had not cared what language she spoke, as long as she sounded gentle.
The creature let out a cry. It pawed the ground, throwing up chunks of decayed leaves and soil. The edge of the foot caught on a fallen log and snapped the wood through.
I'm in deep trouble now! If she read the signals right, the behemoth was about to charge. She tensed, preparing to run, making for the shelter of the trees.
Moments ticked by and still the creature didn't break. Danica hesitated, her heart pounding. If she moved, she might provoke an attack. Maybe the display was bluff. Maybe --
With a blood-curdling yowl, something lean and tawny burst from the underbrush. It moved in a blur, feet flying, body flexing and stretching. Danica caught the glint of claws and curved eyeteeth half as long as her forearm.
The behemoth whirled on its hindquarters with surprising agility. Its trumpeting cry shivered through the air.
The sabertooth landed in a crouch. At first, Danica thought it was a great cat, although French insisted that Aube had no true felines. Despite the aura of liquid power, it wasn't nearly as big as a Terran tiger, more the size of a mountain lion. But it was no Terran cat, not with that supple length of body, the depth of chest, the arched neck, the slanting set of the eyes and ears in the skull which tapered from muzzle to generously rounded base.
The behemoth backed up, facing its attacker.
Danica slipped her lasergun from its holster, praying she wouldn't need to use it. Hieram and Phoenix always carried the more powerful rifles in the field, but as an intern, she was not allowed one.
She raised the gun to aim, a slice behind the sabertooth's shoulder. Quick, fatal.
The ground shook. Underbrush crashed. A second mountain of russet fur and arching yellow-white tusks burst into the clearing, bellowing. Danica's ears rang with the sound. By her quick guess, the second behemoth topped ten feet at the shoulders and massed nearly two tons. Where the calf's tusks were small and blunt, barely long enough to curl, the adult's were massive, chipped at the tips, and streaked with dirt and something darker.
The sabertooth whined, a musical cry, and backed off a step. Its tail writhed and the dappled sun glinted off its hide. Its voice rose in pitch, hissing. Then it sprang, angling its head so that its fangs sank into the fleshy juncture of the behemoth's neck and shoulder.
Too late, the behemoth flung up its head. The sabertooth set its fangs into its prey as a fisherman might set a hook. Foreclaws dug into the behemoth's chest. Hind legs churned, straining to reach the unprotected belly.
The behemoth trumpeted and rose up on its hind legs, revealing pink-white teats.
A female -- the mother of the smaller one!
Blood flowed from the larger behemoth's neck, drenching the air with a bright, stomach-churning smell. It was not the familiar, coppery reek of human blood, but close. The calf rushed back and forth, squealing in distress.
The mother behemoth returned to the ground and shook her head. The first blind moment of panic had faded and the great beast seemed to be thinking.
With a grunt more of anger than animal pain, the behemoth went down on her knees. Ponderously, she shifted her weight, rolling toward the side where the sabertooth clung.
Too late, the sabertooth realized its danger. Frantically it struggled to free its fangs.
The behemoth landed on her side like a felled tree. The impact jarred Danica's teeth. She caught a glimpse of the sabertooth twisting frantically, pushing away. Then a high short scream pierced the bellowing of the behemoth and the squealing of its calf. A grating snap cut off the scream.
The behemoth rolled back the other way, forelegs bent in front of her. Her feet were broad and elephant-like, except for twin bands of hornified tissue along the front. With a grunt, she heaved herself back to her feet. In her shadow lay a tawny bundle. The behemoth bent her head to nudge it.
As if satisfied that the sabertooth no longer presented any threat, the great beast swung her head in Danica's direction. Nostrils flared wide, searching, then slitted shut and flared again. The creature's breath was laden with the smells of decaying forest floor and sweet berries. The force of the exhale reminded Danica of whales breaching in the ocean, sudden and percussive. The rapidly-clotting blood looked almost black.
The great shaggy head dipped and the light in the red-brown eyes turned gentle. Or so Danica thought. She heard the change in its breathing, a softening. The behemoth swung her head around and nuzzled her calf, all the while keeping one eye on Danica. Then the two giants headed downhill towards the valley floor.
Gradually, Danica's heart beat quieted and her trembling eased. The forest around her seemed so still, she could hear the wind from the mountains, whispering secrets to the topmost branches. The struggle had torn up the tender plants of the forest floor. Crushed leaves gave off a pungent smell that blended with the reek of the blood.
The sabertooth lay like a pile of rumpled, champagne-colored silk. A shiver ran along its ribcage, no more than a rippling of sunlight through the leaves. When Danica was less than a yard away, she heard its cry, broken and thready.
Lasergun still in hand, Danica moved closer. The sabertooth lay on its side. Its neck was so twisted, she thought it must surely be broken. One foreleg had snapped, the ends of the bone jutting through the mangled skin. The rib cage, instead of a smooth curve, was dented and irregular. She didn't want to think about its internal injuries. How could the animal still be alive?
And yet --
It cried out.
Danica circled around for a clear view of the sabertooth's head. Rust-streaked foam dripped from the mottled pink and black tongue. The outer third of one fang was broken off, the edges smoothed as if the damage had happened long ago. White dusted the pale-gold muzzle. It was an old animal, from all the clues. One eye, a bright clear orange rimmed with black, caught hers.
Alive. Aware.
She thought for a moment it was pleading with her, but pushed the idea away as sentimental maundering, a projection of her own human impulses. Still, its injuries went far beyond her simple first aid training, and it was in pain.
What target would bring the quickest death? French would rant at her about destroying vital anatomical structures no matter where she aimed. He'd want to study it.
Listen to me, worrying how French will fuss over his precious specimen.
The animal whimpered again.
Danica's eyes stung; the light seemed too bright. She thumbed the lasergun to a wire cut and took a deep slice just behind the sabertooth's skull.
It didn't thrash. There were no reflexive death throes, just a stillness, a dulling of the bright orange light of its eyes.
Danica lowered herself to the undergrowth and reached out with her free hand to touch the beast. Under her fingers, the fur felt softer than she expected. She noticed it was female. The poor beast was pitifully thin, little more than skin and bones. It must have been starving and desperate, to attack even an infant behemoth.
Danica didn't know what scavengers would come, but had no doubt the scent of blood and fresh meat would attract something unpleasant and dangerous. She didn't think she could carry the carcass down to where she'd left the landhover, so she decided to make a visual record. Sniffing, she wiped of the back of one hand across her nose and reached for her camera.
The movement of her head caught a golden shape in the shadows beneath the trees. Dagger-fangs gleaming, a second sabertooth gathered itself to leap.
CASTAWAYS OF THE SABERTOOTH PLANET
(The first book of THE SABERTOOTH PLANET series)
by Deborah J. Ross
Chapter 1
When Danica Kuriansky reached the open slope and gazed down at the forest, an ice-tipped wind from the heights swept across her face. She paused, drawing the air into her lungs, still amazed at how good the mountain air on this planet tasted. The breeze carried the blended scents of greenbark and native juniper, of snow and air never tainted by pollution.
At eighteen, Danica was no stranger to wild country. Like many of her friends at Space Academy, she'd grown up in an Explorer family, moving from one newly-discovered planet to the next. Exploration, her father had always said, was in her blood.
Still breathing hard from her climb, she unknotted the scarf around her neck and wiped her forehead, then used it to tie back her damp, honey-blonde hair. The scarf, blue cotton worn to a flannel softness, was a gift from her old diving teacher, who said it would bring her luck. So far, it had. She'd been one of only three students to qualify for an internship after only two years. Some day, she would lead her own team on a world where no human had ever walked.
Careful of the loose shale, Danica turned and scanned the hillside. Above her, the mountains rose sharply, as if eager to embrace the sky. By afternoon, she'd be climbing by toe and finger holds.
Below her lay a broad, glacier-scooped valley where the team had set up camp. Along this slope of hills and across the open valley, trees resembled masses of elongated cones, their needles almost black in the shadows. Meadows pocked the forest where greenbark groves had died back and lacy-branched bushes sprang up in to provide a haven for butterflies and wildflowers.
Danica reached into her pack for her holo camera. She slowly swept it across the panorama, noting evidence of recent earthquake activity, twisted strata and jutting blocks of raw-edged rock with no signs of erosion.
She frowned, lowering the camera. The Stage One robotic survey had reported no recent earthquake activity. So far, Aube had seemed perfect, or the Academy would never have allowed a student to intern here. The planet tested well within the narrow range of temperature and oxygen requirements for a human colony, with a rich array of carbon-based life. The first rule of Exploration was never to trust a machine, no matter how sophisticated. There were dangers no automated system could detect. It was up to the Explorers to make sure the place was safe.
Something about this planet drew her, made her feel intensely alive, something in the high sweet wildness of the mountains, the salt on her cheeks and the wetness underneath her hair, the way the wind cooled her and the sun warmed her.
And the solitude, definitely the solitude.
Tension drained from her body, replaced by the peculiar exhilaration Danica had felt when she first set foot here, seeing things no other human eyes had seen, walking where no one else had ventured. All her life, she would hurl herself off the edge of known space -- first off the diving board, then off the launching pad -- and for a brief time, she would be at peace.
But sometimes it seemed that no matter how far she went, and sometimes it did seem like flight, the noise and tangle of civilization followed even faster.
Danica finished her survey, tucked the camera back into its pocket, and swung her pack across her shoulders. She'd rested long enough. She began to climb again, studying the terrain as she went, placing each foot carefully before shifting her weight. The slate beneath her shifted, releasing a hail of pebbles downslope. She kept her balance easily. Laughter bubbled up in her throat, as if she'd caught the mountain trying to play a trick on her.
She went on, climbing higher toward the next belt of forest. The sun warmed her shoulders through her pocketed Explorer vest. After a while, she made out a net of game trails, one leading around the hill, toward the nearest grove of trees. She bent, searching for the pea-sized droppings of the most common forest herbivores. They were small, the size of Terran fawns, and their meat was fully digestible, although you couldn't live on it alone. French, their biologist, was fond of saying, "Appearances to the contrary, they aren't real deer . . ."
Danica came out of the sunlit patch into the shade of a grove of deciduous trees. Under the canopy of leaves, the trunks stood like pillars in a cathedral. The air went from dry to pungently moist in an instant. Tree roots and fallen branches gnarled the ground beneath her feet. She tripped and fell on to one knee and both hands. The mingled smells of damp needles, earth, and something musky washed over her. Her palms stung with bits of rock and twig.
She looked up, blinking as her eyes adapted to the dense shade.
And froze.
Not four yards from her, a huge shaggy beast lowered its head from where it had been browsing in the treetops. Its shoulder was easily as high as her head, its four legs thick as tree trunks. The short neck joined the body in a hump. Four short tusks emerged from its mouth, two in a shallow forward curve, two more arching back towards its triangular ears. Although it was the size of an elephant, its snout could not be remotely considered a trunk.
The creature made a rumbling noise deep in the basso range and lowered its head. Red-brown eyes looked straight at her.
Not daring to move, even to breathe, Danica watched the creature's nostrils flare to catch her scent. They were paired at the tip of its long, mobile snout, the flesh unfolding with each breath like an intricate paper fan. It blew out a moist gust and inhaled sharply. As it took a step toward her, its fur rippled like a waterfall of russet threads. It shifted its weight and turned its sideways.
Ample brain case, she noted silently. Intelligent? The way it looked her over, neither frightened nor threatening . . .
A thrill shot up her spine. She gathered her legs under her, moving slowly, and stood up. The creature regarded her as calmly as before, still testing her scent, still fixing her with its reddish-brown eyes.
She could almost hear French's voice saying, "Appearances to the contrary, it is not a real elephant . . ." They'd seen the creatures from afar, and named them behemoths before French determined they belonged in the same family as pigs. Neither Danica nor anyone else had ever been this close to one before.
Behemoth, she repeated silently. It was as good a name as any.
This particular behemoth shook its head, and Danica became aware of the flies that had gathered. One landed on her bare arm and bit. The pain was sudden and sharp.
"Ow!" Without thinking, she slapped the fly, leaving a smear of her own blood. At the sound, the behemoth snorted and flung its head up.
"It's all right," she called, trying to make her voice soft and reassuring. "I'm a friend, it's all right . . ." She knew that animals responded to tone more than words; certainly the horses and racing oryxes she had ridden at home had not cared what language she spoke, as long as she sounded gentle.
The creature let out a cry. It pawed the ground, throwing up chunks of decayed leaves and soil. The edge of the foot caught on a fallen log and snapped the wood through.
I'm in deep trouble now! If she read the signals right, the behemoth was about to charge. She tensed, preparing to run, making for the shelter of the trees.
Moments ticked by and still the creature didn't break. Danica hesitated, her heart pounding. If she moved, she might provoke an attack. Maybe the display was bluff. Maybe --
With a blood-curdling yowl, something lean and tawny burst from the underbrush. It moved in a blur, feet flying, body flexing and stretching. Danica caught the glint of claws and curved eyeteeth half as long as her forearm.
The behemoth whirled on its hindquarters with surprising agility. Its trumpeting cry shivered through the air.
The sabertooth landed in a crouch. At first, Danica thought it was a great cat, although French insisted that Aube had no true felines. Despite the aura of liquid power, it wasn't nearly as big as a Terran tiger, more the size of a mountain lion. But it was no Terran cat, not with that supple length of body, the depth of chest, the arched neck, the slanting set of the eyes and ears in the skull which tapered from muzzle to generously rounded base.
The behemoth backed up, facing its attacker.
Danica slipped her lasergun from its holster, praying she wouldn't need to use it. Hieram and Phoenix always carried the more powerful rifles in the field, but as an intern, she was not allowed one.
She raised the gun to aim, a slice behind the sabertooth's shoulder. Quick, fatal.
The ground shook. Underbrush crashed. A second mountain of russet fur and arching yellow-white tusks burst into the clearing, bellowing. Danica's ears rang with the sound. By her quick guess, the second behemoth topped ten feet at the shoulders and massed nearly two tons. Where the calf's tusks were small and blunt, barely long enough to curl, the adult's were massive, chipped at the tips, and streaked with dirt and something darker.
The sabertooth whined, a musical cry, and backed off a step. Its tail writhed and the dappled sun glinted off its hide. Its voice rose in pitch, hissing. Then it sprang, angling its head so that its fangs sank into the fleshy juncture of the behemoth's neck and shoulder.
Too late, the behemoth flung up its head. The sabertooth set its fangs into its prey as a fisherman might set a hook. Foreclaws dug into the behemoth's chest. Hind legs churned, straining to reach the unprotected belly.
The behemoth trumpeted and rose up on its hind legs, revealing pink-white teats.
A female -- the mother of the smaller one!
Blood flowed from the larger behemoth's neck, drenching the air with a bright, stomach-churning smell. It was not the familiar, coppery reek of human blood, but close. The calf rushed back and forth, squealing in distress.
The mother behemoth returned to the ground and shook her head. The first blind moment of panic had faded and the great beast seemed to be thinking.
With a grunt more of anger than animal pain, the behemoth went down on her knees. Ponderously, she shifted her weight, rolling toward the side where the sabertooth clung.
Too late, the sabertooth realized its danger. Frantically it struggled to free its fangs.
The behemoth landed on her side like a felled tree. The impact jarred Danica's teeth. She caught a glimpse of the sabertooth twisting frantically, pushing away. Then a high short scream pierced the bellowing of the behemoth and the squealing of its calf. A grating snap cut off the scream.
The behemoth rolled back the other way, forelegs bent in front of her. Her feet were broad and elephant-like, except for twin bands of hornified tissue along the front. With a grunt, she heaved herself back to her feet. In her shadow lay a tawny bundle. The behemoth bent her head to nudge it.
As if satisfied that the sabertooth no longer presented any threat, the great beast swung her head in Danica's direction. Nostrils flared wide, searching, then slitted shut and flared again. The creature's breath was laden with the smells of decaying forest floor and sweet berries. The force of the exhale reminded Danica of whales breaching in the ocean, sudden and percussive. The rapidly-clotting blood looked almost black.
The great shaggy head dipped and the light in the red-brown eyes turned gentle. Or so Danica thought. She heard the change in its breathing, a softening. The behemoth swung her head around and nuzzled her calf, all the while keeping one eye on Danica. Then the two giants headed downhill towards the valley floor.
Gradually, Danica's heart beat quieted and her trembling eased. The forest around her seemed so still, she could hear the wind from the mountains, whispering secrets to the topmost branches. The struggle had torn up the tender plants of the forest floor. Crushed leaves gave off a pungent smell that blended with the reek of the blood.
The sabertooth lay like a pile of rumpled, champagne-colored silk. A shiver ran along its ribcage, no more than a rippling of sunlight through the leaves. When Danica was less than a yard away, she heard its cry, broken and thready.
Lasergun still in hand, Danica moved closer. The sabertooth lay on its side. Its neck was so twisted, she thought it must surely be broken. One foreleg had snapped, the ends of the bone jutting through the mangled skin. The rib cage, instead of a smooth curve, was dented and irregular. She didn't want to think about its internal injuries. How could the animal still be alive?
And yet --
It cried out.
Danica circled around for a clear view of the sabertooth's head. Rust-streaked foam dripped from the mottled pink and black tongue. The outer third of one fang was broken off, the edges smoothed as if the damage had happened long ago. White dusted the pale-gold muzzle. It was an old animal, from all the clues. One eye, a bright clear orange rimmed with black, caught hers.
Alive. Aware.
She thought for a moment it was pleading with her, but pushed the idea away as sentimental maundering, a projection of her own human impulses. Still, its injuries went far beyond her simple first aid training, and it was in pain.
What target would bring the quickest death? French would rant at her about destroying vital anatomical structures no matter where she aimed. He'd want to study it.
Listen to me, worrying how French will fuss over his precious specimen.
The animal whimpered again.
Danica's eyes stung; the light seemed too bright. She thumbed the lasergun to a wire cut and took a deep slice just behind the sabertooth's skull.
It didn't thrash. There were no reflexive death throes, just a stillness, a dulling of the bright orange light of its eyes.
Danica lowered herself to the undergrowth and reached out with her free hand to touch the beast. Under her fingers, the fur felt softer than she expected. She noticed it was female. The poor beast was pitifully thin, little more than skin and bones. It must have been starving and desperate, to attack even an infant behemoth.
Danica didn't know what scavengers would come, but had no doubt the scent of blood and fresh meat would attract something unpleasant and dangerous. She didn't think she could carry the carcass down to where she'd left the landhover, so she decided to make a visual record. Sniffing, she wiped of the back of one hand across her nose and reached for her camera.
The movement of her head caught a golden shape in the shadows beneath the trees. Dagger-fangs gleaming, a second sabertooth gathered itself to leap.
