The Girl on the Forbidden Planet: Maisewith, Book 2

By Rachael Greeves

Maisewith faces certain death as she flees the cavern where she has lived for several years. She doesn't know how many, for there are no seasons, no stars or moons to mark her days, but long enough to mate, fall in love, and give birth to hybrid twins. Hybrid, because her mate is Laeperian, a human-like species covered in fur. She doesn't know how she will die, but any end she can think of is better than what awaits her if she is caught. She endures a long tortuous trek though the many connecting caverns and passageways inside the mountain on the frozen moon, where she would die quickly if she made it to the surface. The larger part of her trek is in pitch darkness. When he falls off a cliff, she lands in a mine shaft and is rescued by intelligent creatures, who, though they look reptilian, are far more advanced technologically than the humans she descended from, Earthlings who invaded the planet Costra. The Reptilian creatures take her to their home planet, Progcht, the coveted one her family wished to conquer. She learns the native language, but what use is that when she is imprisoned with others earthlings? In the open-air compound, enclosed by an invisible shield, she meets several people from Costra, including her former nanny and another adopted sister she didn’t know she had. She also meets and befriends nine natives of the planet Jalspar, from whom the Laeperians descended. When her nanny dies of a killer parasite, Maisewith escapes the prison compound to get help and convinces the natives to let her translate the spy bots the invaders brought with them. She and her captors learn that the parasite was purposely introduced in the hope it would spread to the natives. Biological warfare! They've got to find a way to stop the spread or die. Maisewith has to convince her captors to send her back to Costra to find the secret cure and to end the evil woman who abandoned her on the Ice Moon on her 18th birthday, the same woman he injected the parasite into her nanny.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Raven Publishing of Montana
• Release date: Jan 22, 2024
• ISBN: 9781937849429

Book preview

Chapter 1

I run, burdened with a full basket of food in one hand and a bundle of insulated clothing, designed for temperatures far below zero, in the other. My gait is clumsy, but with adrenaline pumping, I don’t slow down. I stick to the main, mostly broad, even corridor for speed. I’ve explored all the side passages within a day’s walk. As I hurry along, I ask myself where I think I’m going? What are the chances of finding a way out. Nil to none, I think. I’m doomed, yet any death is better than what lies behind me if I’m caught.

It's just a guess how many years have passed since I entered a hole in the side of a mountain on a frozen moon and fell down a slippery chute into a huge cavern. I can only guess because there is no such thing as a year or even a standard day in Laeperia. I know that slide is too steep, wet, and smooth to climb up. Even if I could, I’d be stuck in a deep crevasse, with no way out. I’d freeze to death—but that would be okay; it’s the death I choose. I’m not willing to let those who search for me determine my fate.

Laeperia. It’s been both my home and my prison. It’s like I grew up there, learning to be a better, smarter person, even though my experience was limited to a small space occupied by 200 beings with no technology. Since landing there on my eighteenth birthday, I’ve gone from being evaluated, accepted, loved (and perhaps secretly hated) and honored, to now, when I’m a hunted fugitive.

I’m leaving behind the twins I gave birth to, but I’m not worried for them. They will not miss me any more than they’d miss any of the other 200 people who love, nurture, and teach them. I’m leaving behind the love of my life, my soulmate, who died in my arms. I will miss him, but he could not have survived this mad flight for survival.

There are only two chances for escaping, and neither is promising. If I can find a branching passageway that leads outside, the Costran satellite that spies on this moon might see my signal. But even if they did, why would they try to rescue me? Those who own the satellite are the ones who left me here to die.

If I don’t find a way out before I get to the sulfuric pool, perhaps I can get past it without dying in the poisonous miasma that fills the chamber. If there is more of the cavern beyond that room, there may yet be a way to the moon’s surface.

There’s a third way, of course. That is to die without ever finding a way out, either from an accident, starvation, or by getting caught. I probably don’t have long to live, but I’ll do my best to be sure it’s not the horrific death I’m running from, which is public disgrace, horrific torture, and painful death.

When I slow down to get my breath, I think, wouldn’t it be great to find a chamber with edible, native plants like the ones in the Laeperian part of the cave. Though unlike Laeperia, every part of this cavern that I’ve explored so far is void of plant life. Even so, this geodic corridor is a magical place, lit and heated by colorful crystals, where water sometimes bubbles up and runs along in a clear, sparkling stream until disappearing in a rift in the floor. When I think of the many springs in the inhabited part of the cavern, I think there could well be another such a place, just not yet discovered. But what would I do? Live alone, with no one to talk to? That prospect isn’t even appealing. I’m already lonely. I continue to follow the tunnel back the way I came when I first fell into this underground world roughly six or seven—possibly eight—years ago. (With no natural changes to mark the passing of time, I gave up trying to keep track) I’m headed back toward the sulfur pool that I narrowly escaped being boiled alive in when I first dropped into this underground world.

At one familiar pool of fresh water, I lie on my stomach and drink as much as I can hold, knowing that, farther on, the water will be tainted and unfit to drink. I take the next low passage that branches off from the main one. It widens for a while, but its crystals are sparse. I stop when I come to the end, a sheer wall, and spread out my parka and pants to lie on. Giving into exhaustion, I sleep. When I wake, I eat and move on.

I’m now well beyond the area that Atheron, my Laeperian mate, and I explored, so I begin checking out every fork and side passage I find, hoping one will lead upward to the surface. It’s beginning to seem like a waste of time. I don’t know how long I’ve walked, but my legs ache and my body longs for sleep. My rescuers provided food, but the supply is limited, and I’ve tried to ration it carefully. I step inside the next branching tunnel. This one has fewer crystals, and it curves, so I’m well hidden—in case anyone comes looking for me. So far, I’ve seen no evidence that anyone is. None-the-less, it’s easier to relax if I feel hidden. This narrow passage comes to another end, but it’s dark, inviting me to lie down and sleep.

I wake stiff and sore, but rested and hungry. I breakfast on sowree fruit and a small piece of the remaining flat bread. I crawl till I have room to stand up, then walk back to the light and the pool in the main tunnel. I lie down and drink.

Refreshed, I hurry on, taking long, quick strides. As I walk, I think about the dream I had while sleeping on the rocky floor.

It’s a lovely, recurring dream, but it always leaves me sad to wake up. I’m being cuddled at a black woman’s breast. Her look of adoration and her bright smile, make me feel so loved, so safe, I believe she must be my mother. (I know my real mother died giving birth to me, so I must have had a wet nurse I only remember in my dreams.) My dream changes and suddenly, it’s me, nursing my twins. And then the babies become Atheron. I’m so happy to see him, I hold him close to my breast and tell him I will never let him go. He leaves off nursing and smiles at me, and in a sad voice, says. You must, my Maise. You already have."

I sigh and plod on through what must be at least another full day until I’m too weary to go on. I’ve only stopped long enough to drink whenever I find water.

I crawl into another small tunnel where the light is low and the ground is lumpy and cold. Being so exhausted, I think I’ll fall asleep instantly, but aching muscles make it hard to find a comfortable position. Really, though, it’s my thoughts that keep me awake.

I think of Atheron. Missing him is a physical ache, but I am grateful that he is not suffering this trek and the uncertainty I feel. He is not in pain, and he died loving me. I will always miss him, but his memory must be enough to comfort and influence me—from now on—however long or short a time that is.

I think of my twins and their friend, Arti. They are genuinely happy in Laeperia. I hope they can remain that way for the rest of their lives, but I fear they must lose their innocence sometime. At some point, they’ll feel the betrayal when the contradictions in laws they have to memorize and obey are exposed.

I hope my children never have to witness the gruesome torture that is not only allowed, but practiced. It seemed, at my first encounter, like a well-ordered, happy place. Though rigid and boring, Laeperia saved me from certain death, and the inhabitants were kind. The golden-furred people living there were led by a male named Galso, who seemed to be the spokesman for the group. He was kind and welcoming. Others looked up to him, so I supposed he was king, or something. Gradually, I realized that he had a sinister side, and that the other 200 inhabitants feared him. They would agree with whatever he proposed because they were afraid not to. He made the rules but claimed they, as a whole, had made them, and they agreed on their enforcement, including the death penalty for breaking First Rule, which calls for absolute transparency. It’s an evil trick, designed to encourage tattling. No one knew when someone might report them if they complained about Galso.

I was shocked and devastated by the death of my best friend, Perlay, who was condemned for saying the death of a coworker was accidental. With the help of witnesses with barely plausible circumstantial evidence, Galso got every Laeperian to agree that Perlay did not tell the truth. She was not allowed a fair trial. And everyone had to watch her die.

Good grief! They should have at least banned the children from watching Perlay’s execution. Instead, they forced them to sit in the front row. I wonder how it still affects little Boris, who seemed shell-shocked after that. That was my initiation to the horrible consequence of First Rule. It was before I was forced to mate, and years before Atheron and I faced the same manipulated conviction. We were framed for committing a crime of which Galso was guilty. My greatest fear is that our twins, Suki and Portot, will someday have to see such a thing. At least they won’t see me or their father being tortured, thanks to friends who helped us escape.

I decide that since I can’t sleep, I might as well be moving. I press on, eating small bites when I’m hungry, drinking when I can find water, and only sleeping when I’m too exhausted to move another step. When I begin to smell sulfur, I stop and turn back to the last side passage I saw. I’ll sleep, and then I’ll try to get to the other side of the sulfur pool without breathing too much of the poison air.

When I awaken, I put on my outerwear, all of it. I put my goggles over my eyes, and snug the hood of my parka tightly around my face so the fur covers my nose. I stuff what food is left into my pockets and leave the basket.

I fill my lungs with air, hold my breath, duck under the arch, and rush into the poisonous air. Thankfully, my goggles are airtight and warm, so they stay clear in the steamy room. The yellow-green pool is lined with lumpy, orange slime. The water is bubbling. Lots of dark, worm-like things wiggle in the shallows around the edges. The pool overflow forms a broad stream that runs a few meters before dropping out of sight. Above the pool, water seeps from a slimy concave wall forming a narrow stream that feeds the pool. I jump across it to the rust-colored, rocky floor and hurry downstream.

Striding past the stinking pool, I peer down a boulder field that drops off at a 70-degree angle. I have to breathe, or my lungs will explode. I exhale slowly as I climb to a lower level until I’m forced to breathe. The air stinks and burns my throat. I keep going, hoping to find fresher air below.

I’m drenched in sweat inside my parka. The puffy, insulated clothing makes maneuvering awkward. Trying to carry it would be more cumbersome, and I don’t dare leave any of it behind. If I ever reach the surface, I will need the insulating warmth. I keep going.

The light is dim in this part of the cave and gets darker as I descend the steep slope. Mostly by feel, I search for footing and handholds. I climb down as quickly as the terrain allows. When I have to breathe, I find that the air has lost most of the odor of sulfur. It’s dank and musty, but it has the oxygen I need. I keep hoping to see light ahead, but nothing looms but denser darkness.

Why didn’t I bring a clump of crystal for a lamp? Probably because I thought I’d be dead by now. Thinking about it, I’m relieved that I’m not dead. I have no idea what lies ahead—or below—but I’m alive and on my own, and at least for this minute, I’m glad.

But is it a minute, a day, or weeks until I die—fall, starve to death, or go stark-raving mad in the darkness? Does this trail go anywhere but to an abrupt ending? Or a poisonous lake? Or a bubbling inferno of hot lava? I’m descending; not the way to the surface.

Will I ever see light before I die? Right now, that’s all I want. I crave light. Enough to see my hand when I hold it in front of my face would be a relief. I hush my mind. What use is guessing? Just go. One step at a time.

I’m not actually plunging. I’m creeping, aware that each step could be my last if I’m not vigilant. Gradually, the path I’m on broadens. As nearly as I can determine in the dark, I’m on a ledge. To my right is a precipice that drops to unknowable depths, and to my left, a sheer wall, impossible to climb, rises in the dark. I proceed on this path, carefully feeling my way with one hand on the wall and my feet inching forward, step by step, to make sure of solid ground before trusting it to support my weight.

The ledge widens and levels. The wall on my left curves inward over my head. I continue cautiously, on a nearly level plane. As I move on, the path sometimes climbs and sometimes descends, so my progress, though slow, is forward. Away from poisonous gases. Away from a static society with confining rules. Away from extreme torture and painful death—perhaps to something far worse.

I wonder how far I’ve gone and what waits to attack me in the dark. I tell myself to stop that kind of thinking. I’ll be conjuring monsters next, and what’s the use of that? A huge, shark-toothed, fire-breathing dragon immediately springs to mind. I shake my head to still my imagination, stifle a sob, and keep going.

The ledge narrows again and steepens sharply downward. I’m tired and hungry. And thirsty. I’ve walked a long time since I last encountered water. Nor can I hear any. How welcome the sound of a trickling stream or even a drip would be. I finally stop where the path is almost level and about a meter wide. Sitting against the wall that now slants slightly away from me, I pull out the last handful of sowree fruit. The juice of the first one of the grape-sized fruit only serves to remind me of how thirsty I am. I eat another, chewing well and savoring the juice before swallowing. I eat five—and there are no more. Stretching out against the wall as far from the edge as I can get, I use my parka’s sleeve for a pillow as I huddle under the rest of it, for the air is decidedly cooler than it was in the lighted part of the cave. I fall asleep.

When I awaken and open my eyes to pitch blackness, I’m terrified and disoriented. For a split second I think I’ve gone blind. Then I remember where I am, and my spirits plummet.

I dreamed of the bright light of Laeperia. I close my eyes and try to sink back into my dream. It was pleasant.

I cuddled a baby boy. Not Portot, but a newborn. He was beautiful, blue eyed, and golden haired, but not hairy all over like his father and all Laeperians. The hair on his head was long and wavy. His skin was silky, glimmering, and ivory colored. Not genetically realistic, I know. My eyes are dark brown and Atheron’s are emerald green. My skin is the color of rich coffee, and Atheron’s is pale purple like a ripe sowree fruit. But dreams don’t follow rules. Our dream son, named Omega, with his ethereal beauty and enigmatic smile, was born with wisdom and grace. Then I notice he has little wings growing from his shoulder blades. As Atheron, who’d been beside me, faded away, Baby Omega said, "I keep my father in heaven, and he keeps you in his heart."

A great sadness fills me. I’m so lonely that I cry for Laeperia and its people, especially Atheron, for in my dream he was young and strong with all his teeth as I never knew him. He was old when we met. Now, he is dead, and there is nothing but torture and death left for me in Laeperia.

I rise and don my warm clothing—careful not to fall off the edge. The darkness is more oppressive than anything I’ve ever experienced. It feels like the weight of the world presses on my shoulder and squeezes my chest. I have little hope that I will ever find light, a way out, or a water source. Since I can’t see, I sniff, scouting for some new smell. There is nothing. No moldiness, no sulfur, and no earthy dampness. Nothing but my body odor to indicate life. It’s the scent of emptiness.

I wish I’d drowned myself in the fish pool when Atheron died. Maybe I’d be with him in some heaven with a little angel like the one in my dream. Too late now. I’m sure I’ll die soon by a method not of my choosing.

I stand up and get moving. I’m so thirsty, my tongue sticks to the roof of my mouth. I would lick the rocks if they were the least bit wet. They’re not.

I don’t know how long I push ahead before I hear the faint trickle of water, encouraging me on.

The path makes another sharp downturn, slowing my progress. As I creep forward, the sound gets louder. Finally, my boots skid out from under me. I fall on my backside, and slide until I brace my foot against a rock, hands pressed against the wet, rocky ground. I’m sitting in water. Cautiously, I scoot back along the wall on my left and feel a fine stream cascading from above. It crosses the path, and falls, soundlessly, into the void below. I cup my hand to catch some and taste it. Thankfully, it’s potable, with the faint taste of iron. I lean in, pressing my lips against the wall where the water falls in a thin stream, and drink my fill. I back further out of the water, lean against the wall, and eat the last chombra, a delicious red fruit shaped like a pea pod. It has the texture of an apple and a similar flavor. I eat the last crumbs of flat bread. There is nothing else. Leaning into the waterfall, I drink until I finally quench my thirst. I sigh, lean in, and drink until I can hold no more, for I may never find another source of water.

Heading down the steep incline, I keep hoping to find a place level enough to lie down and sleep. I feel like I’ve been walking for weeks, and I’m physically and emotionally exhausted. But the descent just gets steeper. Finally, when I reach for my next step, I feel nothing. The embankment to my left is now a sheer wall, towering over me, squeezing me to the void on my right. What I’ve been calling a path has ended.

Stepping back, I lose my footing and fall. I land hard on my butt on the narrow, sloping ledge. I hold on to the rocky edge to keep from sliding off as my legs dangle in empty space. I press against the sheer wall at my back and catch my breath while I wait for my heart to quit pounding. I close my eyes, knowing that opening them again will make no difference. The darkness is the same dense black.

Tears run down my cheeks as I think wistfully of Laeperia and its heat and light, of Ithwaic and Huitcrai who, like me, are natives of Earth and Costra. Like me, they were abandoned on this Ice Moon. Unlike my experience, they were discovered by the Laeperians and dragged inside to safety. I think of my friends, Huitcrai, Galing, and Colmac, my rescuers, and the guards who allowed them to take us from our prison cell. I think of the even younger and ardent Koki in her tear-filled contrition for her part in betraying us. I hope she’s careful of Galso, the tyrant who condemned Atheron and me to death because we knew too much. If he ever suspects she also knows his secret, her life will end in the torture he hoped to afflict on us. I think of them all with longing, but mostly, I wish I could see.

I explore the terrain with my fingers and find a grip along the narrow ledge. I roll onto my stomach and reach down with my feet. Good. My left foot finds an outcropping to stand on. After making sure it supports my weight, I reach down with my right foot. It reaches—nothing. Just empty space. I realize I’m clinging to an overhang. I pull myself up so that my weight is resting on my left foot, and, cautiously, let go with my right hand to feel for another handhold. I find a protruding rock, pull myself a little higher, and reach again with my right foot for something to step on. Still, there is nothing within reach.

I try moving left and find another handhold. When I pull my left leg up in search of something to stand on, I’m dangling. My fingers ache from gripping tiny nodules of rough rock. Just when I think I can hold on no longer, I find an outcropping with my left foot. I rest my weight on it and relax my fingers—and in that second, the rock beneath my foot crumbles.

I fall, flailing, reaching for something to grab onto.

Like in a falling dream, I feel instant terror. But this is no dream, and I don’t jerk awake to find myself safe in bed.

I slam, hard, my knees buckling beneath me. Pain in my leg and a single bolt of nerve-induced light shoots to my head. The ground spins. I claw the rocky earth to keep from falling off the edge of the swaying and swiftly tilting world.

Mercifully, my pain and terror fade as consciousness deserts me.

Chapter 2

I slowly become aware of movement. Something is shaking me. An earthquake? Whatever it is, it hurts as I’m jostled from side to side. Intense pain shoots up my leg. I moan and reach out with both hands to keep me from falling off another ledge. Dizziness rocks me. I moan and squeeze my eyes tightly shut. A sudden flash of light, bright even through my eyelids is quickly gone.

I squint one eye open. Dim, flickering light reveals dark gray walls and eerie shadows. Bracing myself with both hands, I try to stop the ground from moving.

My leg doesn’t hurt anymore, and my hands are all pins and needles as I try to steady myself. The surface I’m lying on doesn’t feel like rocky earth, but some kind canvas-like material. Maybe that’s just the result of losing feeling in my hands.

I have a thought that terrifies me. What if the bright flash was from my nerves shattering, broken beyond repair, and paralyzing me permanently. I try to move, and when I can’t, I want to scream, but