[Galaxy Of Fear] - 12(12)

The swamp slug seemed to forget about Tash and Zak. It turned toward the dragonsnake as it surfaced, teeth snapping. The two swamp creatures lunged at each other.

Zak felt a hand on his shoulder. “Hurry,” Hoole said.

He and the smugglers had

managed

to

climb

back

onto

the steppingstones. For a half second, they all watched the two beasts thrash about, churning up the dark swamp water. Then they pulled Galt to his feet and hurried on. The growls of the swamp slug and the screams of the dragonsnake could be heard long after they’d left the battle behind.

Soaking wet and shivering with cold and fright, they reached their destination a half hour later.

The Shelter, as Galt called it, was a small island of dry ground, large enough to hold twenty to thirty small huts. The walls of the huts were made of dried mud, and the roofs were gnarlwood branches coated with slime.

As Zak and the others followed Galt onto the little island, two dozen pale-skinned figures came out of the huts, their

eyes

wide

with astonishment. Galt trotted ahead and whispered to them. They all seemed most interested in the body of Galt’s companion. Several of the others took the body from Galt and hurried away with it.

All their whispering seemed to make Platt nervous. “Tru’eb,” she said to the Twi’lek, “take two of the boys and go back to check on the ship. I want to make sure none of these walking skeletons is planning to steal our ticket home.”

“Right,” Tru’eb said, and turned back down the path just as Galt finished his whispering.

Galt smiled. “The Children agree to let you into the Shelter.”

“Thank you,” Hoole said respectfully. “Galt, do you have any records? Anything that you saved from the explorers?”

Galt nodded. “Our parents left us a story.”

In the center of the little village stood a small shelter. It had no walls, just four poles that supported a roof of gnarlwood branches. Beneath it was a small box. Opening it, Galt removed a mud-crusted datapad and a tiny holoprojector. “This is the log. It’s broken,” he said. “No life left in it.”

“Here, let’s try this,” Platt offered.

She popped the power pack out of her glowrod. Taking the holoprojector from Galt, she connected it to the power supply and hit Play.

The holoprojector crackled to life. A small, three-dimensional image of a woman appeared over the projector. She looked exhausted and thin. Her voice sounded weak and defeated as she spoke.

“The datapad’s power supply is almost gone, so I have resisted making an entry for almost a year. This may be the last.

“Our entire trip to Dagobah has proved to be a deadly failure. Even the distress signal we sent out has failed. A passing cruise ship picked up our signal and tried to rescue us, only to crash-land as well. Now there are forty of us stuck here, with little hope of escape. Most of my original team has been killed by swamp creatures or by disease.

“We are trying to make the most of our new home. We’ve found an island and erected a new set of shelters. Some even talk about raising families here. But I don’t know how long we’ll survive.

“Dagobah has beaten us. It’s almost as if the planet resents our presence. If anyone finds this recording, get away from here as fast as you can. Dagobah is a death trap.”

The hologram faded out for a moment. When it powered up again, they saw an image of the same woman. Now she was lying on a bed of damp moss. Her eyes were only half open. Her lips barely moved. It was obvious that she was on her deathbed.

She rasped: “It’s been a year since my last entry… . We’ve found hardly anything to eat and most of the creatures that we might hunt spend their time hunting us. We’ve managed to make a home here. Just a few mud huts. Some of the survivors went ahead and started families. They’ve had children. That’s the worst. We’re all on the edge of starvation … and now we have children to feed. We’ve gotten so hungry … the children crying from hunger … that we’ve-” The woman on the hologram shuddered and started to cry. “May the stars forgive us … we’ve fed them meat from-” Zzzzkkzkkk!

The recording fizzled out.

“She must have lost power at that point,” said Platt.

Hoole nodded. “It is quite surprising that Galt and the others have survived for so long. Without food, and in this hostile environment … it’s amazing, really.”

“I’m starting to think we should get out of here, and set a course for safe space lanes,” Platt said.

“I agree,” said Hoole. “We should leave immediately.”

“Then I’ve got bad news for you,” Tru’eb said. The Twi’lek had just come trotting up, nearly out of breath. “We went back to check on the ship like you asked, Platt. No one’s touched, it, but it looks like the Last Chance was too heavy for the swamp. It’s sunk about three meters into the mud, and the engines won’t kick in.”