Science Fiction Multi-Feature Picture Show

Fortuna Lemon (Part 2)

Sykes emerged through the crackling barrier, sweaty and breathless, delivering a sharp slap to the back of her partner's neck.

"Gah! Really?" Tambly whined, rubbing the sore spot.

"Idiot," she hissed at him, her hand itching to cuff him again. "You had no idea what you were walking into!"

Her gave her a toothy grin. "Aw, didn't know you cared. You've partnered with me on plenty missions. I'm a risk taker."

"You're risking a boot to the head," Sykes glared at him, retrieving the evaluator in hopes of gauging the internal conditions. It was no surprise when the numbers scrambled over the screen. "Damn, can't get a read on the air supply here..." She trailed off as she lifted her eyes off the screen, taking her first real look at her surroundings.

The loose black soil of the beach erupted into a veritable jungle of strange flowering trees. Peach colored petals rained down at the slightest huff of wind. Vines dripped from the branches, twisting ropes that draped between the trees like wooden webs. A crude path cut through the greenery, winding quickly out of sight.

"Smells spicy."

Sykes turned, swallowing a shriek at Tambly's exposed head. "Where's your helmet? This air could be full of toxins!" She waved the useless evaluator at the trees. Her partner lifted his nose to the air, giving another experimental sniff.

"Seems fine to me. A bit like warm cider." He raised a brow as Sykes started to sputter. "Look, am I turning colors or passing out? It's not like we are in 22nd century Beijing here."

Sighing in disgust, she yanked off her helmet. The scent of cinnamon and cloves was thick enough to taste. "Now what?"

"Now we explore," said Tambly, fiddling with the pouches of his belt.

"With what, none of our equipment works," she sneered at the string of tools hanging off her hips. They were designed to function in temperamental conditions, though that wasn't always the case. Still she had less trouble in the dark ages of France. A click and flash drew her eye. "Is that what I think it is?"

"Yup, we are going low tech." Tambly snapped a few more images with the Agency provided digital camera. He glanced at the preview images. "Huh."

"What?"

"Nothing, let's see where the wild road takes us. Shall we?" Tambly bowed, gesturing for Sykes to go first. She hesitated, eyeing the near invisible barrier behind them.

"Maybe we should wait for backup," she said. Her nails tapped the top of the evaluator. He sighed, stalking down the rough hewn path, kicking up clumps of black soil in his wake.

"This is our job, Sykes, don't puss out now."

She sneered after him. She was so spiking his muscle enhancers with laxatives when they got back.

The swath of dirt wound through the trees with no direction or purpose, running somewhat parallel to the beach until they hit an abrupt fork in the road.

"Here we have a pickle," Tambly mused, looking from one divergent path to the other. To the left, it smoothed out, the dirt padded down to create a more solid surface. It was lined with oblong black stones that sparked in the filtered sunlight. He squatted down, examining them. "Looks like obsidian."

His partner had her eyes on the right fork. This path was less kept, wilder, near overgrown with bracken. Roots spilled into the walkway, curling up through the dirt. A breeze caressed her face; a faint hint of citrus teased her senses. Her earlier misgivings fell away as she placed a foot on the path.

"Sykes, what the hell are you doing?"

She stopped, already several steps down the overgrown passage when Tambly's voice dragged her back. She could still feel the pull in the soles of her feet. She stumbled back, ignoring her partner's puzzled expression. "Sorry," she muttered, wiping the sweat from her forehead with the back of her hand. Odd, since the air was rather cool.

"I think it would be safer to take the road more traveled in this case," said Tambly, shaking his head at her odd behavior. "I don't know about you, but I'd rather run into people over wildlife, eh? Kitten?" He turned, panic unfurling in his stomach. "Belle?"

His partner was nowhere to be seen.

___***___

"Merrick?" Sykes looked around, wondering where her partner vanished to. He was standing on the opposite path a moment ago. She knew venturing off the beach was a bad idea. The evaluator gave a feeble chime of agreement from her belt, the numbers now scrawling backwards on the screen. Fan-fricking-tastic. One small step out of line, one tiny infraction to visit one of the greatest authors who ever lived, and now she was stuck in some historically forsaken jungle. Alone with nothing and no one to guide her out. She didn't even have the damn camera. Sykes huffed in frustration, pinching her bottom lip.

The fragrance of citrus breathed into her face once more. She glanced down the path as sunlight streamed through the dense growth. Her feet heeded the call carrying her forward. Overgrown it may be, but it welcomed her. The air warmed the further she went, seeping through the protective material of her suit. Her steps were light, picking over clusters of roots, pits, and potholes in her way. She watched her footing with such care she missed the transition out of the woods. The sudden brilliance of light halted her steps.

A wide circular clearing opened before her, surrounded on all sides by the peach petal forest. Sunlight poured in, splashing over iridescent clusters of fluted blue green flowers, the exact color of peacock feathers. The citrus scent was strong, overpowering the delicate fragrance of the waist high flora. The source was at the center of the clearing.

It was massive, far greater than any specimen of the tree she'd seen. The light gray bark was heavily knotted and creased with age. Part of the trunk curved in a hump to the side like a stooping old man. She might have mistaken it for an oak if not for the fruit drooping from its branches and littering the ground. Of course she didn't usually see lemons as big as her face.

At the base of the tree sat a cross legged figure, overlooking the meadow. Sykes breathed a sigh of relief, moving closer. Hopefully this stranger could enlighten her to the oddities of the island. At the very least, maybe they could point her in the direction of her partner. The figure came into focus.

"Oh," said Sykes. Her voice was swallowed up by the waiting mouths of the flowers.

She doubted the desiccated corpse would be a helpful conversationalist.