Far-Seer

by Robert J. Sawyer

In the gathering darkness, that was far from literally true. Jal-Tetex’s black eyes did not betray where they were looking, but nonetheless Afsan had the uncomfortable feeling that he was being assessed from head to toeclaw, from the front of his muzzle to the tip of his tail. At last Jal-Tetex spoke again. “No doubt you do. What do you know of the hunt?”

  Afsan couldn’t remember the exact words to the Scroll of the Hunt, but he came up with what he thought was a good paraphrase. “It is the ritual through which we purge emotions: hate and violence. It is the endeavor through which we gain self-sufficiency. It is the activity that brings us together in camaraderie and cooperation.”

  “And who is the greatest hunter of all time?”

  Afsan’s tail twitched. A trick question? There were five original hunters. To pick one as better than the others might be considered blasphemous. Even though the religion of the hunt was all but extinct, there was deep respect for all five. Lubal was the one whose cult still had the most adherents, and those who didn’t understand fine distinctions often referred to the Worship of the Five and the Lubalite Cult as one and the same. Still, to name only one — And then it hit Afsan: “Why, you, Jal-Tetex, as imperial hunt leader. You are the greatest hunter.”

  Afsan saw Telex’s jaw work, but he couldn’t tell over the howling wind whether she was clicking her teeth in amusement. “You’ll go far at the palace,” she said at last. “But you’re wrong. The greatest hunter of all is The One yet to come. the one foretold by Lubal: ’A hunter will come greater than myself, and this hunter will be a male — yes, a male — and he shall lead you on the greatest hunt of all.’ “

  Afsan had heard the story before, and mentally whipped himself with his tail for not remembering it in time. “Of course,” he said. “The One.”

  Tetex seemed satisfied. She nodded slightly at Afsan. “And you are?”

  “Afsan, from Carno Pack, part of Arj’toolar province. I am a student astrologer, apprenticed to Tak-Saleed.”

  “Why do you climb the rocks of the Five? Why do you come here?”

  “I wish to join the next hunting pack.”

  “Afsan, did you say?” Her face was impassive. “You’re a friend of Prince Dybo, aren’t you?”

  “That’s right.”

  “Dybo climbed the rocks earlier today. He brought a gift of precious stones.”

  Afsan was delighted that his friend had made it. “Dybo has access to great wealth.”

  “Not to mention influence,” said Tetex. “You used that influence to get bumped to the front of the queue.”

  “Well…”

  The wind whipped, but it was her voice that stung. “Eggling, do you seriously believe that princely influence will save you should something go wrong on the hunt?” Afsan said nothing. “Look there!” She pointed at the floating skulls. “Those were all great hunters, with kilodays of experience. Every one of them killed on the hunt. There are others who were swallowed whole, for whom we don’t even have a skull by which to remember them.”

  Afsan stood tall. “I am not afraid.”

  “Fear is important, young one. Fear is the counselor. Those who don’t know when to fear wind up dead.”

  Afsan was confused. “I am not afraid,” he said again.

  “You lie!” Tetex’s voice cut across the shrieking wind. It was now dark enough that the color of Afsan’s muzzle would not have betrayed him if he were telling a falsehood.

  “I am not afraid of the hunt,” said Afsan quietly, his tail twitching uncomfortably among the ragged gray rocks.

  “Are you afraid of me?” Tetex demanded.

  Afsan was defiant. “No.”

  Suddenly Tetex was moving, a black blur against the gathering night. Afsan’s claws sprang from their sheaths: she was charging at him, attacking another Quintaglio. He didn’t know what to do; one does not attack one’s own kind. But instinct, mighty instinct, took command in his hesitation. He dived to the left, avoiding the impact of her body, twice his own bulk. But Tetex pivoted, her tail slicing the air as she wheeled around. She caught Afsan’s arm and flipped him, sending him sailing. He crashed into the gridwork of bones that made up the nearest wall and tasted salt blood in his mouth. Penned, no way to resolve the territorial ambiguity, he leapt forward, arms up, claws out, jaws agape. Tetex ran directly into his leap, muscular legs propelling her. They smashed together. Afsan landed on his back, an agonizing position, his tail bent aside. Tetex’s triple-clawed foot slammed into his chest above his heart, pinning him. She flexed her toes, the claws sending sharp pains into his chest.

  The tableau held for a semi-ten of heartbeats, wind whipping around them. Finally Tetex spoke again. “Do you fear me now, astrologer?”

  Afsan’s eyes narrowed in shame. He spoke in a whisper rarely audible above the wind. “Yes.”

  Tetex pulled her foot from his chest, and then, to Afsan’s amazement, stooped to offer him a hand in getting back on his feet. “Good,” she said. “Learn to listen to your fear. Perhaps then you will survive.” Tetex nodded concession to Afsan, and he felt the instinctive reflexes drain from within him. She looked up at the stars, at the rising constellation of the Prophet/Hunter. “We leave at first light tomorrow.”

  *7*

  Up ahead, Jal-Tetex had stopped moving. The grass came to the middle of her chest. Afsan, ten paces behind, immediately stopped as well. Dybo, just behind Afsan, continued ahead for a step or so before he realized what was going on, then he, too, came to a halt.

  Tetex held up her right arm, the five fingers splayed, the claws sheathed. A symbol in the hunter’s sign language: she had again detected the trail of their quarry.

  What, wondered Afsan, had given away the beast they were tracking? A footprint? Trampled vegetation? The animal’s pungent wind? Whatever it was, the discovery made his heart pound.

  There were six others in the hunting party besides Afsan, Dybo, and Tetex. Three were veterans, each half again as big as Afsan. The other three were also on the hunt for the first time. Afsan had not discussed with Dybo his meeting with Tetex at the Shrine, but his respect for the rotund prince had increased, knowing that he had endured the cruel climb and the sight of the bones of dead hunters.

  Tetex clenched her middle digits, leaving only her first and fifth fingers exposed, and these she extended as far as she could. The sign meant thunderbeast.

  Thunderbeast! There was no tastier prey. Next, Tetex rotated her hand at the wrist, then turned it back. Once.

  Twice. Three times. Each twist signified a gradation in size: small, medium, large. The animal that Tetex had detected would be food enough for the entire palace to have a feast. Afsan could hear Dybo clicking his teeth in delight.

  Tetex turned to the right and began moving through the high grass. The three other experienced hunters moved as one to keep pace with her. Afsan, Dybo, and the trio of tyros were momentarily confused, then, one by one, they followed the rest in stalking the great beast.

  The terrain here, like most places on Land save the Mar’-toolar plains, was mountainous. Banded patterns of buckled rock were exposed everywhere. The pack was heading uphill, and soon Afsan himself could see some of the signs that Tetex was following. The long grasses were not just compressed; in many places they were pulverized. Smashed groundfruits could be seen here and there.

  Excitement mounted within them. Afsan realized that the same pheromone he had detected yesterday radiating from Tetex was the cause. Those rare females who were in perpetual heat made the ideal hunt leaders, their scent arousing normally dormant instincts within the pack. It affected males and females the same way, sharpening their senses, readying them for battle.

  The sun, tiny and brilliantly white, beat down upon them. The experienced hunters moved with great stealth, making no more sound in the grass than did the rustling of the constant east-to-west wind. Afsan and the other young ones made more noise, but their kilodays of training playing the stalking game were paying off. The sound still wasn’t enough to herald their arriva
l.

  Afsan could feel the sack of his dewlap waggling in the breeze, dissipating heat. He held his tail slightly aloft, exposing its entire surface to the air. Onward, onward, up one side of a hill and down the other, again and again, following the signs of the thunderbeast’s passage.

  Throughout it all, Tetex kept the lead. At last, she held up her hand again. This time, claws were unsheathed. Afsan searched his memories for the significance of that signal, but, glancing down, he saw that his own claws had slipped out into the light of day, as well. The excitement of the hunt, he thought. Instinct at work.

  Tetex waited several heartbeats, perhaps to be sure she had everyone’s attention. She then touched her middle finger to her thumb, creating a circle. I see it.

  Afsan heard Dybo behind him surge forward a step, and then immediately come to a halt. He’d wanted to rush up and view their intended prey, but, thankfully, his training came into play before his action could have alerted it.

  Tetex now held up both arms, showing both hands. Each member of the hunting pack was represented by a finger on those hands: the experienced hunters by those on the left hand, the neophytes by those on the right. By extending the appropriate finger, Tetex was able to indicate a specific hunter. She held up the first finger on her left hand, then pointed to a spot perhaps thirty paces from where she was now standing. The largest of the experienced hunters moved to that position. Using similar signals, she deployed her other two practiced killers.

  She then held up the first finger on her right hand, indicating Dybo, and pointed to a position far to the east. Dybo bobbed concession and moved off in that direction. Next, she positioned two more of the first-timers, both females, at points midway along the crest of the hill. Then came Afsan’s turn. He was delighted that Tetex motioned for him to stand near her.

  Afsan moved through the tall grass to his assigned position. At last he could see into the valley, see what they had come to kill.

  Thunderbeast: a four-footed mountain of flesh; brown, with blue mottling on the massive back; an enormously long neck; ridiculously small head; pillar-like legs; a great whip of a tail.

  And this one was a giant! To the thing’s shoulder, it was eight times Afsan’s height; to the top of its neck, now extended to browse leaves from the hamadaja trees around it, the beast stood fully twenty times as tall as Afsan. To walk the length of its tail would take forty paces.

  The thunderbeast had not yet seen them. The neck was poking into the topmost part of one tree, defoliating it rapidly. These beasts spent most of their waking time eating, moving huge quantities of vegetation past their peg-like teeth, through their narrow throats, down those long, long necks, and into their rumbling guts.

  The prey was ideally situated for the attack. About fifty paces away, it had walked partway into a loose stand of trees. Hamadajas had unbranching bone-white trunks that exploded into leaves only at their tops. The trees were evenly spaced, forming a natural pen for the creature. Only the tapering tail stuck out, free of obstructions.

  Tetex looked left and right, sizing up her team. At last, she held up her arm and gave the rapid hand chops that signaled the attack.

  Stealth was no longer required. The only easy way out of the valley was back up the hillside, and that was the direction from which the nine Quintaglios were coming. Tetex let out a roar, the massive sound erupting from her chest. She charged, back parallel to the ground, tail flying out behind.

  Afsan followed. He was surprised to find himself roaring in excitement, too. The ground shook as the seven others charged, as well.

  The thunderbeast’s head was buried in the leaves. That would muffle its hearing, buying them a little time before the giant creature would respond.

  Suddenly the end of the neck swung around, the tiny head and the dull brain within reacting slowly to the nine puny creatures barreling toward it. Afsan could see the black eyes — obsidian black, the most intelligent-looking thing about the animal — go wide in astonishment. The beast began to back away from the trees, each footfall sending a tremor through the ground. Afsan looked over his shoulder. Chubby Dybo, his gut in the running posture barely clearing the soil, was bringing up the rear.

  Tetex was first to reach the thunderbeast. She leapt onto the animal’s right flank just ahead of the rear leg. Her claws dug like pitons into the mountain of its abdomen. Rivulets of blood ran down the thing’s sandy hide. One of the other experienced hunters arrived next, his greater stride letting him outrun Afsan. He, too, leapt onto the beast, his jaws digging into its flank. Afsan watched in amazement…

  — which was a stupid thing to be doing. Suddenly, out of his peripheral vision, he became aware of a beige wall barreling along, slicing the air with a massive whoosh. The tail — no thin line from this close, but rather half the height of Afsan himself — came toward him. He turned and ran, trying to get out of its way, but it struck him from the rear, knocking the wind from his lungs.

  His vision exploded into patterns of light. He felt himself being lifted up, knocked flying by the impact, and, heartbeats later, saw the ground far below. Afsan brought his arms up to cover his face. The hard ground rushed toward him…

  God protect me!

  …and all was blackness for an instant.

  His whole body ached. He had landed in shrubbery, the thorns scratching his hide. His right leg hurt as he put his weight on it.

  He was now thirty paces from the thunderbeast. The monster was slapping its side with its tail, attempting to dislodge the tiny Tetex. Several other members of the pack had secured themselves to the beast’s side and were ripping chunks of flesh from it. Even round Dybo was gnawing at the thing’s right rear ankle.

  By the prophet, this was a monster! Afsan had never heard of a thunderbeast so big. Perhaps they had bitten off more than they could swallow whole.

  No, thought Afsan. He would not fail at his first hunt. He would not. He tipped forward into the running posture and rushed toward the beast.

  The ground was slick with blood. The creature, still very much alive and fighting, had many small rips in its belly, although, as yet, the internals seemed intact.

  The thunderbeast’s tail flicked again, and Afsan saw one of the other youngsters — Punood, was it? — go flying the same way he had. But Punood had received a more vicious blow. Even over the pounding of his own footfalls, Afsan had heard the cracking of Punood’s bones as the tail impacted, killing him instantly, and, moments later, the splat as his corpse slammed against distant rocks.

  I won’t be distracted. Afsan clenched his teeth, feeling the uneven interlock of their serrated tips. I won’t look back.

  The beast lifted its right forefoot. One of the older hunters had been maneuvering to get at the soft flesh beneath the shoulders, but now the round footpad with its five stubby claws was coming down upon her, the circular form casting a shadow on the hapless Quintaglio. In a few moments, she’d be crushed to death. The hunter began to run, but the leg, like a giant hammer, pounded down. It missed her body, but pinned her tail. Even at this distance, Afsan heard the snap of vertebrae. The Quintaglio’s legs went out from under her, and she slammed chest-first into the ground. The thunderbeast realized it had done only half a job, and lifted its left forefoot as a prelude to bringing it down to stamp the life out of the prone hunter.

  Chubby Dybo, tendons from the thunderbeast’s rear ankle hanging like reeds from his mouth, rushed into the scene. He spat the tendons aside and with one massive chomp sheared through the downed hunter’s tail just below where it joined her torso.

  The thunderbeast’s foot smashed down, kicking up a cloud of dust. When the view cleared, Afsan could see that the formerly pinned hunter had made it to safety several tens of paces away, the stub of her tail bright red with her own blood. Dybo, too, had managed to avoid the crushing foot.

  The thunderbeast was confused about what had happened. Afsan was close now, very close.

  When you charge, think of what angers you, Tetex had said bef
ore the hunt.

  Saleed. Afsan inhaled deeply. Abominable Tak-Saleed.

  He folded his legs beneath his torso and pushed up with all his might, divots flying from the ground as he leapt into the air.

  Afsan tasted his own blood as he slammed into the beast’s right front leg just above the knee. He scrambled, digging in claws for traction, pulling himself higher and higher up the massive thigh. The hide was tough, and he had to kick to get his claws to pierce it, but he was making progress.

  The beast apparently sensed something in this new attacker. It bent from the hips, rising up on its hind legs. Afsan had heard that thunderbeasts could do this, especially when the forefeet were balanced against the side of a tree, to reach particularly lofty vegetation. But in a desperate effort to save its own life, the animal had found the strength to surge up without such support. Afsan felt wind flow over his body as the beast’s torso rose into the air.

  Afsan dug in, desperately holding on. Surely the creature could maintain this semi-erect posture, with its tail bent at almost a right angle, for only a few moments.

  A few terrifying moments…

  .

  The animal’s front crashed down, the forelegs pounding the dirt. Over his shoulder, Afsan saw that Tetex and two others had been knocked off the beast’s side, and one of those two didn’t look like she was going to get up again. Afsan turned his attention back to the beast. Its flesh spread out in front of him like a wall. He scrambled up onto the shoulders.

  The neck curved up in front of him, dizzyingly, rising into the sky like a giant beige snake. It measured twelve times Afsan’s own body length. He looked back. Hunt leader Tetex had leapt onto the creature’s side again. She’d ripped a gaping hole through the pebbly skin and was at last getting at the entrails. The beast’s tail swung wildly left and right, knocking hunters off as it went. Afsan could feel the mountain of flesh beneath him expanding and contracting with each breath.

  Suddenly everything moved again, and Afsan feared he would become nauseous. The shoulders bounced, almost tossing him off. The creature was walking, desperately trying to find some way to escape.