Mom once told me that Ss'sik'chtokiwij have an internal magnetic compass, but the storm appeared to be magnetic, so I had no idea where we went.
The storm swept us along for what felt like miles. When I glanced through the breaks in the cloud, I could no longer find any sign of the base I called home, not even a rover or a piece of scientific equipment.
We rolled down a sandy grade, bumping over rocks, skidding off the tops of boulders half buried in slopes of dirt. We had no choice in direction, as if God had a giant broom pushing us into His cosmic dust pan.
A weathered black boulder came into view. Sydjea immediately hammered my head into it, causing me to release my grip on her neck.
She jumped off me, attempting to return to base, but the storm threw her backwards, and she vanished in a cloud of dust.
Deciding that `out of sight' meant `out of mind,' I crouched next to the rock, waiting for the storm to blow over.
Although my visual sense receptors, hidden beneath the protective shell of my exoskeleton, had immunity to the constant pelting of dust and dirt, my view resembled camera footage of a car windshield during a NASCAR dirt track race. I kept having to wipe my dome.
Even when my dome cleared, the storm itself looked like one continuous wall, the rocks I spotted in the gaps interchangeable with every other rock I saw.
Hence why I didn't see the black body until it wrestled me into the dirt, trying to crush my windpipe. "You've condemned us both to die! You and your cursed xulrubdan! I never should have listened!"
A strong wind sent us tumbling down a hill. We landed on top of a broad rock, me with my weight pressing down on my sister, claws at her throat.
"You are like a (perfect, no, not perfect!) You are like a plant in shallow soil that dries up in the sun! The seed of God's word endured in your heart for awhile, but now it withers in the face of trouble!"
Sydjea rolled over, shoving me into the dirt.
"Where is the food you claim this God of yours will provide us?" She scooped up a handful of soil, pouring it on the cracked ground. "Is it this? Is this your `desertmana'?"
I quoted Matthew 4:4, about scripture being my bread, but most my fine speech got obscured by the roar and the hiss of the storm.
Funny thing about dry storms: They actually generate electricity. Something to do with the friction and static charges. For this reason, throughout our voyage through this dust hurricane, I sighted many sparks and miniature lightning bolts.
In fact, we got struck by one quite suddenly, and a mighty gust of wind blew us onto a cliff at the edge of a massive crater.
I lay at the very lip of the chasm. Through the breaks in the storm, I could see its outline, an uneven L shaped hole in the ground, miles across in each direction. Sydjea had disappeared.
I thought a land formation like this would cause the storm to fade out, but it did not, and I had to dig my claws in the soil to keep from getting blown over.
The wind calmed a bit, and I relaxed, but this proved to be a mistake, for as soon as I let my guard down, my sister materialized out of a dust cloud like Dracula, pushing me over the edge.
My claws fumbled for something solid to grab, but they scraped off uselessly and I fell with a shriek.
My fall ended rather anticlimactically on a rock shelf only six feet below the drop.
Brushing sand off, I got up, peering at my surroundings in the dirty illumination.
The interior walls of this crater gaped like a crooked piano with several keys missing, a raggedy scattering of differently sized shelves, some taking on the appearance of stairs, others jutting dangerously out into space.
I needed to return to the top, and a stretch of rock nearby appeared to be sufficient enough for my needs.
The moment the object bore my full weight, I discovered it to be nothing more than an unusually shaped block of compacted sand. I supposed there could have been a rock framework beneath it somewhere, but mostly I found an avalanche of silica, with little purchase anywhere.
No ledges below me, only a dusty floor more than ten miles down, one that may or may not have been solid rock.
I clawed frantically against the wave of sand, twice coming close to spilling over the edge before grabbing hold of a crevice in the rock wall.
For a moment, my slulwidmi didn't work, for sand robbed them of their suction, but I at last got them clear enough to work again, and I climbed straight up.
Sydjea awaited me at the top.
Upon crossing the lip, I received a stomp to the head, but I caught her by the tail and clawed my way to safety.
As soon as I stood, Sydjea jumped on me, and we rolled down another slope, away from the crater.
Our trajectory took us behind a row of large boulders, providing a break from the buffeting wind. We rolled, clawing and punching each other as we slid down a gravelly grade.
Sydjea picked up a rock and struck me with it, but the small rock broke into pieces when it made impact with my head.
The sound of splashing and a field of yellow in our peripheral vision made us both turn our heads.
Ammonium sulfate, created from volcanoes, and volcano-like situations, is found on many planets, including Jupiter, Saturn and Mars.
I neglected to mention this before, but Ss'sik'chtokiwij don't drink water. Considering the fact that we spit acid and can melt metal with our blood, this shouldn't come as a surprise.
We don't drink every day, but when we do, we drink ammonia.
What, did I say something funny?
Scientists in the lab must have understood something about our physiology, for they regularly gave us processed odorless containers of the stuff. I would compare this to drinking purified water. Not for everyone.
Upon sighting the giant yellow-green lake, we paused our fight to take a drink.
A vast circular crater, amber waves crashing upon the narrow shores within. An oddly beautiful place, even in the midst of the storm, which now appeared to be losing strength. It smelled of urine, but Ss'sik'chtokiwij don't complain about that.
We scuttled down the nearby grade to lap up the refreshing substance like dogs.
"See?" I told my sister. "God has provided."
"Shut up," Sydjea growled, but I think her lessened thirst took an edge off her anger. At least for a moment.
My sister hurled a massive rock at me. I ducked out of the way, narrowly avoiding a crippling injury.
She threw another rock, and another, and another. None so large as the first, but enough to cause me concern. I fled to higher ground.
I halted for a moment near the rim of the "L" chasm, formulating my plan.
If I could just lose Sydjea around this crater, I thought I could return to the base, before mother could finish laying and attack my friends.
My plans never came to fruition, for I had not run but a few yards when my sister appeared out of the cloud of dust, pouncing upon me like a feral animal. It happened so sudden that I briefly wondered if she had somehow mastered the art of teleportation.
Of course, Sydjea just had better heat vision, and maybe caught a few breaks in the dust. Nimjah stealth tricks. I fell on my back, head dangling over the crater's edge.
I fought my way to my feet, but as I clawed at my attacker, defending myself against her blows, a heavy gust of wind swept us both over the ledge.
We fell for several feet, landing on a large wedge shaped rock. Somehow I ended up on top, Sydjea taking most of the impact.
As we rose to continue our semi-pugilistic endeavors, the wedge rock broke loose, bumping down a sharp incline.
At the bottom, this rock encountered an obstacle, and we got thrown off our feet, spilling across a broad, unevenly textured yellow boulder.
Sydjea punched me, and I fell backwards onto a gray boulder below it.
Ever eager to kill me, my sister leapt upon me, intending to grab my neck and bash my brains in, but the moment my head hit the stone once, I felt my insides shifting. The gray boulder had broken free from its moorings.
A sickening drop, then a jarring crunch as the rock collided noisily with another a long distance below, rock chips, dirt and bits of gravel scattering in every direction.
The fall didn't appear to break anything in our bodies, but it sure didn't feel good.
We fought like a pair of mad dogs, growling and biting and clawing each other until we dropped onto another shelf.
Our attacks became too aggressive, and we accidentally rolled off the edge, sliding down a steep mile long mound of dirt.
We arrived at the bottom looking like a pair of flour battered ants. We stopped fighting, staring at each other, sobbing out dust and purring in amusement.
I sighed in relief, thinking that at last peace had fallen between us.
I gave her a low bow. "Goodbye, Sydjea."
My sister picked up a large rock. "Goodbye."
I dodged the rock, hurriedly scrambling across the chasm floor.
After running many yards under a constant barrage of flying rocks without seeing any change of scenery, I quickly came to the conclusion that it would take me forever to reach the opposite wall.
Giving it up, I circled back, aiming for the closest wall that appeared climbable enough to facilitate my escape.
My assailant forced me to the ground halfway to the wall.
The thought occurred to me to do away with this relentless foe by striking her repeatedly with a heavy rock, I had unsavory associations with the violence of Cain, a horrific crime which I refused to re-enact.
Instead, I kept with my original plan of losing her in the wilderness, making consistent efforts to flee, attacking only in self defense, to escape her clutches.
Sydjea wrestled me into the dirt a few times, but I clawed and kicked my way out, running for the wall as fast as my legs could carry me.
The wall, a massive arrangement of heavy boulders, balanced impossibly atop a very weak and slender looking obelisk of a rock.
Sydjea rammed me into this weak pillar, loosening several supportive stones in the process. The obelisk rock wiggled like a loose tooth, dirt showering threateningly from the boulders above.
Infuriated, I spun around and shoved her into it.
Sydjea hurled me into a hollow beneath the intimidating boulders, beating me against a feebly restrained wall. I thrust her into the obelisk rock.
I got thrown into a shallow corner of the recess, rocks and dirt raining down.
Coming out swinging, I pushed past her, attempting to flee.
Sydjea drove me down into the dirt, claws digging into my spine, aiming for the sensitive gunshot wound Ahxalybij had given me.
I attacked her several times, but she wouldn't let go.
I'd reached the end of my patience. I had humans to protect, and Sydjea delayed me. I had no desire to spend eternity at the bottom of this crater, with or without a pile of rubble on top of me.
My sister's cruel indifference to my best friend's life, her hard unrepentant heart, I could take no more.
Clenching my fists tightly, I let out a deafening roar, charging at her like a killer bull.
My head plowed into her exoskeleton, and her body flew through the structurally unsound rear wall of the recess.
Upon impact, several rocks collapsed like bowling pins, tumbling into a small cavern, taking Sydjea with them.
My sister made a wild scramble to right herself and climb out, but the ceiling groaned, the already loose pillar leaning in a disconcerting fashion. I made a hasty retreat, watching the scene unfolding with unease.
My sister emerged from the hole she'd fallen in, peering wildly about at the loose and crumbling rocks, panic clear on her face. She bolted, but far too late. A massive boulder dropped on her exoskeleton, crushing her body like an insect under a boot.
Moved by pity, I rushed to her side, but nothing more could be done. A large portion of her body had been crushed to liquid beneath the tremendous weight. She could scarcely breathe, but she reached out pleadingly with her claws. "Sh'kassk'dwuissueblik, remember me when you go to the Great Ss'sik'chtokiwij's hunting grounds. Tell him I'm sorry."
I put a claw to her dome. "Our Lord forgives you."
Sydjea lay still and spoke no more.
As I contemplated a burial, perhaps piling more rocks over her, the obelisk rock toppled sideways and an avalanche took care of it. I barely escaped joining her in the rough grave.
Sobbing, I retreated, searching for a safer way to the surface.
A few yards down, I found an ATV abandoned beneath a pile of rocks.
Almost completely upside down, the machine resembled a snowmobile, with a motorcycle front and a pair of of tank treads at the rear. I supposed the occupant had accidentally slipped off an edge, wrecked the machine, possibly dying in the process.
No skeleton or scraps of clothing, indicating possibly that someone had retrieved the body, alive or dead, and left the damaged vehicle where it lay.
Thinking the machine had potential, if only for entertainment purposes, I dragged it of its rocky burial place, setting it on its wheels as I assessed the damage.
Front end dented in, head lamp shattered, handlebars bent asymmetrically.
The thing had been bleeding. Not actual blood, of course, but a sticky red chemical resembling blood.
The engine starter, a plastic button on a handlebar, only caused the machine to belch out a cloud of smoke and make an angry grinding sound when I depressed it.
I opened the hood, staring at the bewildering array of wires, pipes, and engine components.
I'm smart, but not that smart. No one ever showed me instructional materials on automotive repair. But I did enjoy working on puzzles.
This is why I decided to plug a few loose wires back into the sockets they seemed to belong to, and try the starter again.
It seems God had been watching out for me, for if the negative cable hadn't already been hooked up, I probably would have crossed the wires and subjected myself to painful injury.
When I pushed the starter this time, the machine rumbled to life with a lot of protesting noise.
Not sure why the fuel hadn't evaporated. Perhaps it was a hybrid of some sort, or it contained an advanced kind of fuel that could be stored for extended periods of time. Either that, or the tank had just been sealed really well.
I climbed upon the long vinyl seat, toying with various levers until I found myself rocketing toward a granite barrier. I managed to steer the machine away from disaster, but only by a slight margin. An entire wall collapsed as I zoomed by.
A few yards away, conveniently enough, I noticed a smooth grade, ideal enough for travel with my three wheeled vehicle. I squeezed the accelerator and aimed the wheel that way.
The machine appeared to be permanently inclined on veering left, and it smoked and exploded like the antique contraption from the sitcom about Dracula and the Frankenstein monster, but I forced it onto the grade, gunning the engine out of fear of it rolling backwards.
I suppose with the tank treads, it might not have been anything to worry about, but the constant pull in that leftward direction made me anxious.
In my haste to get this noisy beast to the rim of the crater, I squeezed the acceleration lever a little too tightly, and in doing so, failed to overcompensate for the stubborn steering controls.
The machine most unexpectedly bumped over a rock, lurching off the side of a shelf that recessed a degree further left than I had been prepared for.
The front end of the vehicle slid off the edge, the connected portion banging thunderously down upon the rock.
As I crept backwards on the seat, growling in frustration, something crunched, and then the whole right side of the vehicle sank, threatening to drop into the crater.
If I'd been human, that would have been the end of it. Time to get out and walk. Instead, though, I climbed down the rock wall on my slulwidmi, pushing against the vehicle with all my might.
Slowly but surely, the machine slid backwards to a more secure spot. Despite the hard work, it still leaned into the incline again
My fears proved to be unfounded. The vehicle stayed put.
I continued my journey with much more care, hugging the rock wall of the upper shelf to avoid the veering tendency of the controls. Soon I reached the surface, and the ride became a lot smoother. Well, if you don't count the smoke and the explosions.
I think I must have had too much fun on this machine, for, after traveling peacefully for a few miles, I got a little careless, and somehow hit a mound of rock and sand, which acted as a ramp of sorts.
The vehicle went airborne, pitching sideways like a car in an action movie.
I'm not sure what happened after that, but I found myself lying with my face in the dirt, legs and tail pinned beneath the padded seat.
A heavy machine, but not unbearably so. I squeezed out, and limping, shoved it back on its wheels, tried the starter again.
The engine turned once, then stalled.
When I checked under the hood, a cloud of smoke burst forth, and something inside caught fire. It appeared I would have to walk.
Since the storm had broken, ever since I took to vehicular transport, I had a fair idea of the base's direction. At first I had doubted my internal compass, thinking it damaged just like everything else in my brain, but once I spotted the black cube in the distance, I decided it had its merits.
A mile or so afterwards, I stood before the airlock, knocking on the metal door.
"(Satan). Mara!" I shouted. "It's Ernie! Let me in, please!"
No one answered. I knocked again.
"Mara?"
I sat down on my haunches and waited.
What is she doing? I wondered. Is she unplugged? What's going on in there? "Mara? (Yes). Mara?"
The airlock clicked open, and I once more found myself standing in the foul smelling corridor behind the biology lab.
Eager to rejoin my friends, I hurried to the interior door, then stopped, suddenly fearful.
A great deal of time had passed, and I had made no moves to hide Sarah's body when I had left. I thought I had no reason to, but now full realization dawned on me.
I stared at the door at the end of the hallway, formulating the explanations in my head, desperately hoping they'd understand.
I pictured Brice lying comatose in the infirmary all this time, just awakening as I retrieved a bloody scrap of the girl's clothing, me meekly bringing it to him as I gave him my deepest, most sincere apologies.
The events, unfortunately, did not transpire in this order.
Moments after I stepped through the inner door, I found myself facing an unpleasant reception.
The man on crutches stood at the head of the party, his one eyed visage reflecting a mixture of loathing and disgust. A pair of small bloody tennis shoes dangled around his neck by their shoelaces.
Rebecca cowered behind him, looking at me like a family dog that had suddenly contracted rabies and bit her.
Kihoon, who hadn't trusted me that much to begin with, now wore an expression that seemed to say, `What are you waiting for? Kill it!'
Brice removed the blood caked sneakers from his neck, throwing them at me with a look of cold hatred on his face.
He said nothing, but the message was perfectly obvious.
"I didn't do this!" I protested. "Sydjea betrayed me! She (chair), she betrayed us all!"
Brice raised one of his crutches in the air, striking me hard across the side of my head.