Broken Tenets

by Beth Reason

  **

  They pushed on through the day. At one point, a coonskunk darted out from under a rock and hissed, his gnarled fangs bared. Tenet jumped a mile, but Scarab just kept walking, never breaking pace. Tenet looked back at it as they passed and shuddered. “Close one.”

  “Not really. They don't usually attack. Just protecting some lady coonskunk he's shacking up with. Can't really blame him.”

  Tenet supposed he couldn't, either. Nature. Animal instinct. If you have a woman, protect her, even if she was a coonskunk and ugly as sin.

  “Just keep your eyes open for tracks and you'll be just fine.”

  “What do they eat?” he asked out of the blue. It was something that was bothering him about the animal life in Summer. There was no food. No water. How was it possible for anything to survive?

  “Oh, I don't know. Little gilla babies, probably.”

  “What do the gilla babies eat?”

  Scarab laughed. “Are you really that bored?”

  “Just trying to pass the time and not think about how screwed we are.”

  Scarab had to admit the idea had merit. It was certainly better than writing her own obituary in her head like she had been doing. “Alright. I'll play. The baby gilla eat the beetles in the sand.”

  “There are beetles?”

  “Tons of them. They hibernate when the weather cools and come out in the heat.”

  “Huh. I had no idea.” He thought about it. “Okay, then, they eat the baby gilla. They can't live on that alone.”

  “No, not at all. They probably eat some of the beetles, too. That's probably why they dig around so much.”

  He nodded. “Makes sense. How about water? They must need water.”

  Scarab nodded. “That I know for a fact they dig up. There's water in the earth, even earth hot as this.”

  “Like a desert oasis.”

  “Exactly.”

  He thought it over for another minute. “If you have a gadget that can tell heart rates, and we know that coonskunks will be near sources of water, it seems to me we can make a bot that factors in those two things.”

  Scarab sighed. “Back to that are we?”

  He nodded. “I've been giving it a lot of thought. You have to be here because the bots can't do their jobs. We're putting human lives at risk just because we can't make a little piece of technology do what we tell it to. That's insane!”

  “You don't say.”

  “I'm being serious. Drop the sarcasm just for a minute, okay?” She said nothing but nodded. “So, we have the technology. Why aren't we using it?”

  “Ahh,” she said, nodding. “The question we hunters have been asking all along.”

  “You mean I'm not the first to put it together?”

  Scarab laughed. “Sorry to burst your bubble, Tenet, but no, in fact, you're not. We've been trying to get our own bots developed for years. Ones that take all of that into consideration and more.”

  “You said earlier that it wasn't possible.”

  “No. What I said was that under the current government it wasn't possible.” She stopped suddenly and turned to him. “Look, do you really want another fight? That's where this is heading, you know. I'll tell you things about your government that you either know and deny, or have no notion of and still deny.”

  But Tenet surprised both her and himself when he said, “The government has problems. I know that. I accept it. But it's what we've got right now and we have to trust it. What other choice is there?”

  Scarab cocked her head and raised an eyebrow, but said nothing. Maybe he was learning something after all. She turned and resumed their journey. “You know,” she said after awhile. “Someone could enter the government who can change it for the better.”

  Tenet gave a bitter laugh. “Sorry, Scarab. You're barking up the wrong tree. I feel bad for you hunters, but I'm not going into government.”

  “Really? I thought your path was all laid out.”

  He looked off into the distance. “It was. I'm on a new one.”

  Now that truly surprised her. In the brief research she had done before setting off on the mission, she discovered that Tenet lead a life designed to make him the next leader. Every class he took, every activity he participated in, and every club he joined spelled government. It didn't matter what his father wanted. This little screwup aside, the rest of the council and the world would forgive and forget. He was one of the chosen, after all. And yet, his words were far from idle. Just the look on his face told her he meant it. “If you don't go into government, what will you do?”

  He shrugged. “I don't honestly know. I set off on this to prove something to my father. I think I'm just proving something to myself instead.” She pulled a face and rolled her eyes, and he laughed. “Oh, I know. Trite. But even trite sentiments can be true. I don't know what I want to be. I have absolutely no idea. For the first time in my life, my path is a complete blank. And even running from all sorts of nasties that want to see me dead, and even in the very loose arrest of a bounty hunter, I'm overall happy. Can you imagine that? I've got nothing. I'm literally picking my way through the ashes. I've got no food, if you choose not to share, and no water. I'm carrying a gun and actually consumed cow's milk. I've been reduced to nothing. I'm a fugitive of the law, in the middle of a desert, and I don't care.”

  It was an enormous revelation, and Scarab knew he meant it. Once again, she felt a tug of obligation to share one of her own personal insights. This time, though, she resisted. He had brought up the fact that this was a hunt, and he was right. As much as she was starting to admire his streak of new-found courage, the facts were still facts. She was the hunter, he was nabbed. In a few short months he'd be turned over to his father to face the consequences of breaking the law. He was a job, a paycheck. And that, she told herself quickly, was that.

  “Well, come on, Mr. Freedom. Your captor wants to get you into custody.”

  He laughed, and gave a little bow. “Anything you say, huntress.”

  She bit her cheek to keep from smiling. Huntress, eh? He had a way with words. She'd give him that. They picked the pace back up and could see the next beacon in the distance.

  “Is that it?” he asked when he saw it as well.

  She shook her head. “No. We push past and get to...” She stopped dead in her tracks, and Tenet crashed into her back.

  “What's..”

  “Shh!” She tried to hush him, but knew it was pointless. They were already caught. Slowly she nodded her head to a group of rocks a few yards ahead of them. Tenet looked, but couldn't see anything.

  “What is it?” he whispered.

  Scarab slowly shifted her sack around the front. She had to stay calm. She could do this. She'd done it over and over. She had this one. She had to stay calm for both of them. In a few minutes, Tenet would be useless. She reached her hand into her sack and brought out one of the guns. Fumbling with the ammo, she finally got it loaded. Slow and silent, she told herself. Slow and silent.

  Tenet kept looking ahead, but still could see nothing. Her movement made him look down and instantly his heart was in his throat. She was loading a gun. Oh, god! She was actually loading a gun! The implications of what that meant slammed through him and stopped his breathing.

  “Breathe,” she whispered. “We've got it.”

  He wanted to run, but his feet wouldn't move. He wanted to scream, but no sound would come. He wanted to nod to at least let her know he heard, but he couldn't believe her words enough to make that happen.

  “Tenet,” she said very calmly. “This is now your gun. You fire it like a screamer. Point at the target and pull the trigger. It's exactly the same.”

  His head could move afterall, and he shook it for all it was worth.

  “Tenet,” she said, an edge of panic creeping in to her calm tone. “Chances are that you won't even have to. But right now, we can't take chances. Take this gun. Do it now.”

  His panic drove him to follow her calm orders without a
ny further questioning. Whatever was up ahead wanted to kill him. Maybe even eat him. His bounty hunter wanted him to shoot it. He took the gun with a shaking hand, as Scarab loaded the other.

  “Watch the rocks. Watch the back side of them.”

  He tried to swallow, but it was useless. His mouth had gone as dry as their desert prison. “Wraiths?” he finally squeaked out.

  Scarab didn't answer. She didn't have to. Just as he was asking, the pale face of a hungry wraith peered out from behind the rocks. Tenet nearly lost control as the hideous creature smiled. It actually smiled. It smiled right at them as if they were already on the plate. He thought the dead ones were terrifying. They were nothing compared to the living.

  The wraith moved slowly, grinning at the fortunate meal that walked right into its trap. It gestured above their heads, a frightening, human-like move that let Scarab know it wasn't alone. They had to face at least a hunting pair. “Tenet, back to back,” she hissed quickly, hoping he at least knew what that meant and knowing there was no time to explain.

  Tenet's weapons training kicked in. He whirled in his spot and backed up to Scarab, her in charge of dispatching whatever was in front, him being responsible for any rear attack. He scanned the rocks around them, looking for any signs of movement. Finally he saw it, a foot sticking out in the sand just a yard ahead. He heard Scarab cock her gun, and he tried to do the same, but his hands were shaking too badly to work the simple mechanism.

  “Panic later, Tenet.”

  Her words cut through, and he got the gun cocked just as the wraith in front of him slinked out from behind the rock. The movements were deceptively quick. One second, just the foot was visible. The next, the entire wraith stood in the sand right before him. It made no movement towards him, just stood there smiling. In its mind, it had already won, and Tenet had no doubt that it was savoring the idea of fresh blood. It stood there and smiled, its teeth stained brown by the countless blood meals it had already enjoyed in its life. The most unnerving thing about it was how very human it appeared. The dead ones were cold and lifeless. It was easy to see the differences in the structure of the faces, especially when they were laid out on a science table. In person, and alive, he began to doubt that the myths of wraith trickery were really myths. They stood nearly as tall as a person, with lanky arms and legs, no doubt an asset for speed and agility necessary for hunting. Their fingers were long and curled, with thick, sharp looking nails. Tenet couldn't stop the idea of being ripped apart by those nails and shuddered.

  “Keep it calm,” said Scarab. “Wait until they jump.”

  “They jump?” he squeaked.

  “Steady,” she reminded him. “Steady.”

  Her voice was full of steel, and he wondered just how she did it. As it was, he'd already have to insist on a stop to clean the bags in his suit. He raised his gun a little higher and held his breath. Any minute, this garish humanoid would leap and he'd have to be ready. At the first twitch of movement, time slowed. In horrific slow motion, the smile on the wraith morphed into a sneer and it was airborne, just like that. One moment on the ground, the next in the air, mouth open, a spine-chilling hiss the only sound. Without thought, Tenet pulled the trigger.

  The force of the weapon shocked him, returning time to rights with the physical jar. Had Scarab not been at his back, he would have tumbled out of shock alone. He felt the kickback of Scarab's weapon and braced himself for her impact.

  “Shoot it again!” she screamed.

  The wraith lay twisting on the ground, its face skewed in silent screams of pain and outrage. The blood began to seep from the shoulder area. It was a direct hit, but not fatal. Nowhere near the heart, miles from the head. Carefully he cocked his weapon again and held it up. But the wraith was far more clever than he ever imagined. It stopped its writhing, instead giving him a look of anguish and pain that, for an instant, tore at his heart. He heard the report of Scarab's weapon once again, and wondered how it was she could kill so easily. This wraith was in pain. True and honest pain.

  The wraith seized its advantage. Carefully it pulled its broken body up and began to limp towards him, its hand outstretched in a silent plea for mercy. But it was the wraith's eyes he couldn't look away from. The eyes. The pain and fear shone through right to his core. This was no snarling beast. This was a creature so close to him genetically that it could be mistaken for human. Was it impossible to think that it was only doing what he himself was? Weren't they both just trying to survive?

  It got within reach of Tenet and he was about to lay his weapon down in protest of the barbarity when he saw something change. It was a small change, really, and had he blinked he would have missed it. But he didn't blink. He was staring right in the wraith's eyes when they showed, for the briefest of moments, the taste of victory. Had it been any other emotion, Tenet would have laid down his weapon and let happen whatever would. If it was gratitude, or relief, or even hatred, he could have looked away and let it win the battle. It was the look of sure victory that made him pull the trigger just as one razor talon slashed through his suit.

  He watched its eyes, the change of emotion as it knew, for the first and only time in its life, the bitter taste of defeat. First there was disbelief, then anger, and finally resignation. The talon slipped from his suit as the eyes rolled back, the wraith sliding lifeless to be eaten by the raptors or baked in the sand. Tenet turned away. He couldn't look. He couldn't stand to look at it and know it almost won, know he almost let it get the better of him. Never in a million years had he dreamed that an animal, a stupid, filthy animal, could out think him.

  “Are we done?” was all he could ask, feeling numb.

  Scarab scanned the rocks and said carefully, “I think so. They hunt in pairs mostly, especially early in the season.”

  Tenet nodded, but wouldn't let himself react. Not yet. Right now, the only thought his brain would allow to reach tangibility was “run”. There was no room to think about the gun he just used, no time to assess whether or not he crossed the line between survival and murder. There would be time later for all the guilt and the questions and replaying it over and over in his mind like he had no doubt his subconscious had planned. Later. At the moment, they needed to get to that beacon as fast as they could and get the hell out of there.

  Without a glance he moved away from the dead wraith and the safety of Scarab's back. He was just securing his weapon in the sack when Scarab's scream ripped through the air.