by Sahara Foley
Scuff marks on the ground led to where Karrin had been laying. Against the bottom of the black stone, one small, brown spot stood out. With shock and horror, Lurga realized he was looking at the sole of Karrin’s shoe.
"No." he yelled as he dropped the net full of dinner and rushed over to the rock.
The boulder was eight feet wide, twelve feet tall, and weighed several tons. Somehow, little Karrin was underneath it.
Using both large, clawed hands, Lurga dug around the base of the boulder, trying to find a handhold, so he could lift it.
The rock sat flat on the ground like it was fused to the dirt.
Leaning against it, he pushed with his legs, grunting and hissing with effort.
The boulder wouldn’t budge.
Not wanting to give up, Lurga pushed and shoved until he fell to the ground, exhausted, panting, sweat pouring down his face and back. Lurga climbed to his feet and, on unsteady legs, began pounding on the rock with closed fists.
"You are a Quoavid," he roared in frustrated anger. "You are not supposed to move."
When he glanced down, with mounting horror, he saw Karrin's shoe had disappeared. She was completely under the rock. Lurga fell to his knees, his forehead and hands pressed against the warm stone, big tears rolling down his face.
"I have failed you, little one," he whispered hoarsely.
He thought about using his Seeder rifle, but he didn't believe it would work. Before he reinforced his weapons with the Lear ore, he shot one of the rocks while doing target practice. To his amazement, the Seeder rifle didn't even faze it.
Curious, he accessed Contruda's database and found that the Quoavids were creatures who lived in another dimension. One where time moved at a different speed. What Lurga perceived as just a dull, black rock was a living entity that existed in another dimension.
The concept was beyond his ability to comprehend, but it never really mattered. Until now. Now, when it did matter, he couldn’t do anything to save his precious Karrin.
With a heavy sigh, Lurga stood on wobbly legs, wiped his eyes, and stared at the hated rock. Nothing further could be done.
"I am sorry. I have failed you and the Warrior Woman. With your passing, my blood bond has been broken."
Turning on his heels, he picked up his rifle, and headed toward his invisible ship. Each step he took away from Karrin's grave, mocked his failures. He gritted his teeth, his hearts hardening with grief and anger. He may be a failure, but he knew one task he would succeed at.
Lurga sat in his, now, empty, lonely ship. He kissed his clawed fist, and extended it toward the black rock. Tears streaming unchecked, he managed to croak out, "Good Battle, little one.”
With angry swipes, he wiped the relentless tears from his eyes and set his course. Soon, the Greatest Ispepyein Warrior headed for home.
CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE
Lurga's heart was shattered to a million pieces, and each jagged piece a burning ball of hate.
As soon as he cleared Switch's atmosphere, he tapped out a message. 'This is Lurga Pukani. The Earth child is dead, and my death bond is terminated. I go to Ispepyein for the Challenge of Leadership. Kargan, prepare to meet your ancestors. Any warrior who stops me, remember, I shall be Leader, soon.'
After a minute, a reply came back. ‘This is Tatum. If the child is dead, then the only dispute left to settle is the Challenge. As Head of the Warrior Council, I will punish any who interfere. Come home, Lurga, to face the Challenge.'
Another message flashed across the screen. 'This is Leader Kargan. Tatum is only Head of the Council. I am LEADER. I demand my personal Guards stop the traitor Lurga Pukani. The reward still stands.'
Lurga glanced over at his scope. Several ships were moving toward his position.
Another message flared on the screen. 'This is Tatum. I request the Warrior Council to follow me to intercede in this illegal interference Kargan proposes.'
Lurga responded, 'Fear not, Tatum. I, Lurga Pukani, shall wait for the attackers. Come, fools.'
On the scope, seven ships maneuvered into their designated attack positions.
Lurga grinned. Right where I want you. As they moved in for their kill shots, he commanded his fighter to scoot between two of them and took off at top speed. Powered by the special ore from Lear, his ship became a silver blur streaking across the darkness of space. In seconds, he disappeared.
Hissing in anticipation, Lurga tapped, 'Prepare, Kargan. I come.'
Lurga didn't give another thought to Kargan's guards. They would still be halfway home when the battle started. After that, they were Tatum’s problem.
Tatum might be old, like most Council Members, but he wielded a lot of influence. Sometimes, more than the Leader. Ispepyein Warriors could choose which authority to follow in any given situation. Most soldiers chose Tatum.
His screen showed symbols with instructions. 'Proceed to the Arborium. The twelve Council Members and their personal guards are waiting to see if Kargan will answer the Challenge.'
Lurga stared at the screen, wondering. Does Kargan fear me enough to forfeit the Challenge? If he didn't show, not only would he be losing his Leadership, he would also be an outcast. Kargan might even be hunted by the other Warriors, if they let him leave the planet alive.
The silver ship settled on the assigned landing space outside the Arborium. The massive structure was made of gray metal., and larger than the Leader's Palace because it also held the chambers for the Warrior Council.
Twenty male Ispepyeins surrounded Lurga’s fighter as he unbuckled from his seat. These were the personal guards of the Council and a high honor, indeed. Seeder rifles at the ready, each guard surveyed the milling, loud crowd as they proceeded toward the arena entrances.
When Lurga stepped off his ship, Zelka probed and pounded into his mind. He growled to himself. Leave it to my sister to try and distract me, so Kargan can have an advantage. He sent a blast of hatred toward her and blocked his mind from her intrusions.
The honor guards pushed and shoved through the shouting and jeering bystanders as the Head Guard recited the rules. "No weapons are allowed in the arena. You will fight with the gifts the Old Gods bestowed upon us. The survivor will be declared Leader. If neither of you survives, the Head of the Council will take charge until such a time as the people vote for a new Leader."
Lurga snorted in derision. That was precisely how Kargan became Leader. He'd been voted in after both combatants succumbed to their injuries during the Challenge.
The guards escorting him stopped in front of a plain gray, metal door.
Lurga unbuckled his holsters and handed them over to one of the guards on his left side. Removing his flight suit and undergarments, he held them out to another guard. He gave a curt nod to the Head guard, who opened the closed door.
Head held high, shoulders thrust back, Lurga stepped out on the cold arena. The dirt floor was gray with dark splotches. Where blood spilled during previous Challenges had soaked into the ground.
Kargan stood in the middle of the arena, naked, hands clenched into fists. He glared at Lurga and gnashed his teeth. Lurga stopped within ten feet of him, and they walked in a circle as they eyeballed each other, assessing.
The fat, lazy Leader Lurga knew when he left home five years ago had changed into a lean and fit warrior. His breeding organ engorged with the thirst for blood and the kill. Not only was the Challenge meant for Leadership, but also entailed that only the strongest bloodlines propagated their species.
Kargan sported fresh scars across his chest and arms. That explained Zelka's pregnancy. He must've been Challenged recently and won. Whether in her breeding time or not, a male who’s won a Challenge goes into a rut not experienced by other male Ispepyeins.
Lurga glanced down at his own flaccid member and smirked. He wasn’t here for breeding. He was here for revenge.
Tatum strode out between them and held his hands high. "Silence in the arena," he yelled over the crowd of onlookers. When the noise level s
ubsided enough, he continued, "Do you Kargan accept the decision of the Challenge?"
"Yes." Kargan roared, pumping his hands into the air. "I shall kill the traitor."
Tatum turned toward Kargan’s opponent. "Lurga, do you accept the decision of the Challenge?"
"Yes," Lurga answered and flashed his teeth at Kargan.
"Your responses have been duly recorded. Let the Challenge began – NOW." He brought his arm down in a swift motion and hurried off the battlefield.
With a loud growl and grinding of teeth, Kargan rushed forward.
Lurga bent, wrapped his arms around Kargan's middle, and threw him over his shoulder.
Kargan landed on his back with a loud grunt, then quickly rolled and jumped to his feet.
Both combatants were evenly matched in strength, but Lurga had a few inches on Kargan. They circled some more, breathing vents fluttering as their panted.
Lurga studied the leader, leery. Kargan was well known for his deceptiveness and cunning. He grinned. He wasn't called the Greatest Ispepyein Warrior for nothing.
With a snarl, Kargan rushed forward, again, his sharp claws aimed at Lurga's chest.
Lurga crouched and braced himself for the attack, and swiftly grabbed Kargan's hands. He shoved them outwards, just barely avoiding being stabbed in the belly. He tightened his grip on Kargan's hands as they strained, back and forth, feeling each other's strength.
"You will die a traitor," Kargan hissed through clamped teeth. "You and that Penna child of yours."
Lurga growled low in his throat, his heart filled with hate, an emotion not felt by Ispepyeins in eons. Just like his love for the child Kargan insulted.
Lurga bent his knees and using his intense hatred to fuel his strength, slowly turned Kargan's hands. With a mighty roar, he shoved Kargan's claws into his own stomach.
Kargan threw back his head, howling in pain as Lurga hooked him under his armpit and leg and lifted him into the air. With a mighty heave, Lurga threw Kargan toward the arena wall, where he landed on his back on the hard ground. Kargan jerked his claws from his stomach, green blood spurting, as he tried catching his breath. The wounds weren't fatal, but the bleeding would eventually sap his strength.
Lurga stood under the glaring sun, sweat stinging his eyes as his three lungs gulped for air.
Abruptly, Kargan rolled over next to the arena wall and started frantically digging into the dirt with his bloody claws.
Lurga shook his head. What is the fool up to, now? He hurried toward Kargan, his heart thrumming in his ears, his mouth thirsty for Kargan’s blood. He couldn’t wait to rip the Leader’s throat out with his bare teeth.
Kargan turned, his hand coming up.
Lurga threw up his arm, ducking, expecting a face-full of dirt when suddenly he stared at the small grid on the front end of a Seeder pistol.
The crowd surged to their feet, cries of disbelief echoing off the walls at the illegality of bringing a weapon to the Challenge.
Lurga skidded to a stop as Kargan yelled, "Die, Traitor" and pressed the firing stud.
The grid expanded and lightened as it flew toward Lurga. Being hit one time by a Seeder Pistol wouldn't kill an Ispepyein due to their thick skin, but multiple hits would shred him, no matter how tough his flesh. And, Kargan pushed the firing button, over and over, as more grids hurtled toward him.
Lurga bowed his head, waiting for pain and death to claim him. Once again, he failed.
At least, this will be my last failure, he thought with a sad sigh.
CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR
On Switch, a dull, ebony Quoavid began turning silver. The process started in the small crevice where the tall alien had set a chunk of rare ore. Being curious, it absorbed the strange substance into itself and, now, inch by inch, it turned silver.
Only after the Quoavid swallowed the unknown metal did it realize the ore emitted radiation never experienced by its race before. And, that radiation changed it. Not only did it turn a different color, but it moved faster than usual, which increased its metabolism.
Now, it was ravenous. Nonetheless, it couldn’t eat. It shivered in fear. Would it die?
Quoavids existed in many planes, dimensions, and universes. A species so ancient they didn’t remember their own history. Or, how they ended up on the planets they inhabited.
They appeared as harmless rocks or boulders. They weighed tons, like most boulders, but hollow inside. This was their feeding chamber.
They feed on dead matter, such as trees, animals, and even real rocks. Garbage collectors and recyclers for the Universe. Whatever they took into their chambers were digested then expelled as moist air through their warm, porous outer shell.
Unfortunately, this one could no longer collect garbage. The Quoavid was already full. The small, living life-form it ingested wasn’t breaking down properly into the nutrients needed. The furry outer layer had been no trouble to digest. However, the life-form got stuck when it tried digesting the bare skin.
A Quoavid’s digestive track only went one way. Whatever came in through the bottom went out through the surface.
Frantic with fear and starvation, it sent out a mental plea for help to its fellow Quoavids.
The other Quoavids who shared Switch with it also observed the changes. Where it typically took ages for them to move from spot to spot, this one raced everywhere it went, zipping around like it had legs.
Through their vast mental network, billions of Quoavids pondered the problem. Sadly, not one came up with a solution. They suggested the silver Quoavid stop moving. To wait for the living being to die naturally and absorb it through the normal process.
Yet, the unfortunate Quoavid couldn’t. As the silver coloring took it over, the faster it needed to move, and the hungrier it became. It also found that the undigested life-form inside bore some of the same elements as the metal it ate. Was this the reason it couldn’t be digested?
The Quoavids gave a mental shrug and went back to their feeding.
Unable to sit still, the silver Quoavid zipped from place to place, a blur to the regular members of its species. By now, it had been entirely consumed by the Husken Silver from Lear. It zigged and zagged between trees, going slower and slower, its energy level decreasing as it starved to death. Weak from hunger, it finally came to a halt, close to where it started.
The overcast sky began to drizzle. The warm rainwater collected in the nooks and crannies of the Husken Quoavid. Small cracks formed in the silver shell where the water cascaded down the sides. With a loud snap, the boulder fell apart into numerous pieces. The being trapped inside got unceremoniously dumped, face-down, on the sharp, jagged silver portions of the, now, dead Quoavid.
Stunned, Karrin laid on the ground, staring at the wet, glittering silver rocks. Where am I? What happened?
Karrin pushed wet strands of hair off her face and sat up. She looked around, wiping the rain out of her eyes. The last thing she remembered, she fell asleep in Lurga’s safe, secure arms.
Something warm slid down her lips, and she wiped at it. Her hand came away bloody. She must’ve cut her nose on the rocks. Why would Lurga lay me in a pile of sharp rocks? Where is he?
A small gust of wind chilled the water on her skin, and she shivered. She glanced down. Why am I naked? Where are my clothes?
Scared, she stiffly scrambled to her feet, then discovered tiny red spots all over her body, like a rash. Karrin didn’t remember having the rash before. Where did it come from?