Tracked on Predator Planet (Predator Planet Series)

by Vicky L. Holt.

  I wished I could explain all this to the male.

  His helmet obscured all features. Unlike my visor, which had been made of clear Galvanite-infused glass, his was a black rectangle with glowing red where his eyes would be. He could be frowning or smiling, and I would never know.

  During the night, we had bedded down in a huge dead tree. He had made a fire and sang songs, but I only had vague memories of it. His songs—and my exhaustion—had lulled me to sleep almost instantly

  It was the afternoon of the next day when we arrived at my glade.

  The bones were undisturbed. The ship remained tilted, maybe a little more.

  I fidgeted in his arms, but his grip seemed to tighten.

  He walked toward my ship and stepped over where the invisible laser boundary used to be. Ah, so he knew about that. Interesting.

  I looked at his visor again. What kind of tech did he have? The set-up at his cave had been rudimentary. Perhaps he had crash-landed here too. What were the odds? If only we could talk. I had questions, as I’m sure he did.

  He walked me to the edge of the sinkhole, set me on my feet, and took a step back. “Du woahoza.” He pointed to my ship.

  “Yeah.” My shoulders slumped as I stared at it. I walked around the sinkhole, wary to stand closer to the edge where the nosecone slanted. Would my extra weight make it fall? “VELMA, stability status of the EEP.”

  “The EEP settled four more inches overnight but has remained stable for the past five hours. Microtremors diminished five hours ago.”

  I squatted by the edge closest to the EEP. The stabilizer leg ejected from this side but would meet resistance at the dirt wall, so I couldn’t deploy it.

  I looked up at the giant. “Can you help me?” I waved my arms at the ship.

  He grunted and walked around the sinkhole, hands on his narrow hips. He spat out a litany of indecipherable words.

  “VELMA, is it safe for me to enter the sinkhole now?”

  “There is a twenty-seven percent chance your weight will initiate further sinkage.”

  I chewed my lip. “Here goes nothing.” I sat at the edge and gingerly stepped down, my feet landing on sodden dirt, but nothing shifted. I breathed a sigh of relief. Glancing at the big guy, I walked over to the first stabilizer leg that had the hand-crank operation. I pointed to it, then started manipulating the rotational handles. About halfway through, I stopped and gestured to the side against the dirt. I slapped the panel that had the stabilizer leg.

  “Ah!” He nodded, squatted down and inspected the panel, and the ship, and the edge. If he pushed against the EEP’s nosecone, he could possibly get the panel away from the edge enough that I could deploy the second stabilizer leg. At that point, I could get the third one going, and VELMA could do the rest, lifting the ship much like she had done when I had first landed. It could work.

  I climbed out to stand beside him, marveling at his size. I was a tall woman at 5’8. He dwarfed me. I placed my hands on the fuselage and pushed, knowing I wouldn’t be able to budge it but hoping he would get the idea.

  “Ik, ik,” he said and joined me. I almost fell when the ship eased away in seconds, as if it weighed nothing to him.

  “Wow.” I stepped back.

  He held it steady so I could jump down again and start deploying the leg. It took an hour and a half and some swear words, but we managed to get the four stabilizer legs out over the edge and onto the stable ground around the hole. Was there a risk it would crumble? Yes. But I planned on shoveling dirt into the hole or maybe rolling some rocks into it.

  “VELMA, run diagnostics on the EEP.”

  “Complying.”

  I removed my helmet. With it under my arm and deeply aware of the cyanobacteria’s damage already done, I drank deeply from the canister he’d given me back in the cave.

  “Ah,” he said. He looked around at my site. “Ah, water?” He pointed over his shoulder to the stream.

  “Yes, the water is over there! Yeah, water.” I pointed to the stream with a laugh. “How do you know the word for water?”

  He folded his arms. He didn’t understand me, of course.

  I studied the armor molded to his body and the huge helmet that looked almost like the Mishibizhiw of my people’s legend—and the creature I had killed the other day. A part cougar, part dragon. Like a reptile lion. It was fierce. Menacing. And yet he had carried me through the jungle and made no advances of aggression or otherwise. In fact, it looked as if we were ending an awkward blind date.

  I needed to flip the Overseer switch on VELMA and castigate myself for my stupidity. I wondered if I could convince him to wait for me while I went inside.

  “Um,” I said. “Thanks for the, uh, water. And everything.” I waved at my ship.

  He bowed a little and said, “Ik.”

  “Can you wait for me for just a few minutes?” I pointed to my ship. “I’m going in. I gotta go in. And do stuff.”

  “Ik.” He bowed again.

  “Don’t leave, okay?” I flattened my palms as if to pat the ground beneath our feet. “Stay here. I’ll just be a few minutes.”

  He mimicked my hand signals.

  “Yes!” I smiled at him and repeated the sign. Sweat prickled the nape of my neck. I cleared the back of my throat. Air quality. “Okay, bye.” I entered my pod and let the hatch slide shut. “VELMA, set up biomedical diagnostics.”

  I set aside my rabid curiosity about the huge male outside the pod. We had communicated! Even if it had been awkward and messy, it was a connection with another living being. But my health was priority. I couldn’t make allies if I was dead. But even with the threat of an invisible bacteria compromising my system, I found it difficult not to spare every other thought about who he was, his name, and where he lived. Even so, I suppressed the urge to peek at him from the porthole. I removed my helmet, stripped out of my suit, lay on the exam table and inhaled through my nose as the instruments slid into their ports in my arms and legs.

  “I need you to see if the cyanobacteria can be found in my blood,” I told VELMA. I knew it would be; if I’d had any doubts, I’d never have taken my helmet off after that one time, but I needed to be sure. And this sounded more hopeful than ‘Confirm the cyanobacteria are found in my blood.’

  “Complying. Administering electrolyte solution via your IV port. Please rest until treatment is completed.”

  My eyes drifted closed. For the briefest moment, I remembered the Thunderbird flapping its great wings and the rumble of thunder that followed, but then I drifted off to sleep.

  I awoke to VELMA’s soothing voice.

  “Blood analysis complete. Traces of this planet’s cyanobacteria can be detected in your blood. I administered the first dose of an antibiotic via your IV port. I will test your blood every four hours for updates.”

  I knew it—but hearing it confirmed was like an impact wrench to the gut. An upswell of tears salted my eyes. I blinked a couple times and blew out a breath. “Okay. You’ve earned your Handler chip disabled. Now let’s get you into Overseer mode and see what happens.”

  “More of the same, with access to infinite trivia, Pattee Crow Flies,” VELMA said.

  I laughed. “You made a joke.”

  “I was not aware,” she said, which made me laugh harder.

  It was glorious to laugh again; I’d done far too little of it the last few days. And the fact I could laugh after finding out my blood harbored an invader meant I hadn’t completely surrendered yet. If this was a sign of things to come, unleashing VELMA might be one of the best choices I would make on this planet.

  I stood in front of the console and typed in the manual code that would enable Overseer mode. When I finished, nothing happened.

  “There you go,” I said.

  She remained silent.

  I swallowed, feeling blood drain from my cheeks. I double-checked my typing history. I had entered the correct code. “You’re online, VELMA.”

  Silence.

  My face then burne
d with hot shame, and a fear snake swayed in my belly, its fangs dripping suicidal venom. My limbs shook, and my fingers trembled.

  Crap! What had I done? Was it reversible? Had I ruined everything? I searched the computer files frantically for the Handler chip and Overseer mode but found the same information I had used.

  The knuckles on my hands turned white.

  I clenched my teeth and stared at the monitor, willing it to do something.

  My hand hovered over the reset button.

  “Greetings K90-Miner 110.”

  I sank to my knees. Thank you, Great Spirit. VELMA was a computer program, but she was the only one I could talk to, the only one on this whole planet I knew to be truly on my side. I swiped at a tear racing to my chin. I stood and cleared my throat.

  “Hey, VELMA.” Then, I realized she’d used my miner ID, not my name, and panic surged again. Had she forgotten everything? Had I neglected to save the results from the air particle analysis? Roiling in my gut grew uncomfortable.

  “Forgive the delay, I was downloading files,” VELMA said. “You have five hundred new messages.”

  I gasped and then started laughing. “What? Messages from who?”

  VELMA began reading the messages, and I realized it was ping reports from the nano-satellite array. Weather patterns. Seismic activity. Thermal imaging graphics and water shed maps. Tectonic plate lines and topographical maps.

  A new tear slipped down my cheek.

  I sniffed and wiped my eyes. Stupid. Why did I think I would have actual messages from actual people? Because I wanted someone to acknowledge I was here. Because I wanted off this death planet! I sucked in a deep breath. Buck up, Pattee.

  I thought about the indigenous male outside my pod for distraction. He’d waited, right? I peeked out my window, but I couldn’t see him. Hopefully, he’d stayed nearby. I realized I’d hoped we could stay companions for a day. Or more. Just … for company. But if he were truly gone … I blinked a couple times and swallowed.

  “Would you like to hear the audio recording?”

  I paused. “What?”

  “Would you like to hear the audio recording?”

  “Yes,” I said, confused.

  “Do not remove your helmet. Airborne pathogen fatal to humans in atmosphere.” It was a human’s voice. A human woman’s voice! She didn’t say her name, but my heart soared. Another survivor!

  “VELMA, when did this message arrive?” I kicked myself for my stubbornness and pride. I could have avoided so much trouble.

  “It was sent immediately after she received your message accompanied by files. It appears I have already identified how to subdue the infection in your blood and vaccinate you against further infections. I need certain materials, however.”

  “What do you need?”

  “Bacteriophages found in a specific kind of cave pool, as well as those existing in a healing agent called the Holy Waters of Shegoshel.”

  “The what?”

  “The race of indigenous people that hunt on this planet use it. I have downloaded the language. Would you like to access it?”

  The hunter. We could communicate!

  I prayed he’d waited because it seemed I needed his help again, and now I could tell him properly—and learn about him. “Yes!” I hustled to put my suit back on and snap the helmet in place before hurrying outside.

  I didn’t see him anywhere, so I yelled. “Hey! Hey!” We hadn’t exchanged names. Well, the whole interlude had been unorthodox.

  Still no reply. Had he really left?

  I ran to the tree line, looking for footprints. Where had he gone? Why had he left? I cursed. All of this was my fault. If I had activated Overseer mode all those days ago … I cursed again and stared into the foliage. I bowed my head.

  “Dad! When are you going to learn I CAN’T DO THIS?”

  “Pattee, take a breath. Chipping a spearhead takes patience as well as skill. Let go of the idea you must be perfect the first time you do something. Do not let your pride get in the way of learning.

  I exhaled and blinked a few times.

  I needed to find these Holy Waters. I assumed it was a potion that belonged to the race of beings, but there were so many unexplained mysteries. “Do the indigenous people live here?” I asked VELMA.

  “No. This planet, named Ikthe, is considered the sacred hunting grounds for the Theraxl race. They shuttle between here and their home planet, Ikshe. Theraxl are governed by a matriarchal society. Their religion, mythology, and culture are based on the binary star system, as well as the twin planets. Biological evolution on Ikthe spawned an entire symbiotic system of predators that hunt by twos, in sister-pairs. Would you like me to go on?”

  I stood staring at the glade from the border of trees. “No, thank you, VELMA.” Not now. Her words had sparked an understanding in me that I wanted to explore first. I saw the planet with new eyes. The salamander things hunting by twos were sister pairs, not male-female mates. And my elusive dreams about Sister Goddesses? How was that possible? I tried to recall the dreams, but to no avail.

  So what was my situation? What were my options? There were at least two human survivors here. This planet was uninhabited but visited frequently by the people from the green planet I had seen in the sky periodically. And the male who had carried me for miles without breaking a sweat didn’t live here, he visited, which explained the rudimentary living situation I’d found him in. Which meant he might very well be on route to his ship.

  If he left, I would have no way of finding the so-called Holy Waters of Shegoshel.

  I made fists and stared into the jungle greenery. Fear turned into resolve. I couldn’t do it right now, but I had no choice: I had to hunt him down. Again. But this time, we’d be able to talk.

  22

  When Joaxma went into her vessel, I looked at my empty arms. Something stirred in my chest. While holding the female had not felt wrong, I had to remind myself I had merely been performing my duty as a servant of the Goddesses by carrying her. Hivelt had prevented Joaxma’s death by dehydration, and I had helped her move her little ship. The Goddesses surely did not expect more from Hivelt? Yet my heart-home pinched and pulsed.

  I grunted and surveyed the glade, ignoring my wayward body’s outlandish suggestion.

  Where before, Joaxma’s industry had created a homestead worthy of Theraxl, complete with a drying rack, sizable fire pit, productive snares, and a workstation, the rains and pazathel-nax battle had thrashed it.

  I felt the sting of regret for stealing her trapped animals and releasing others. Clearly the humans held no ill-will toward my people. They wanted what every other inhabitant of Ikthe wanted: to live. I frowned at myself and shook my head. I had been a misguided hunter, but now I would follow the Goddesses. It would seem they desired the humans’ preservation for some purpose unknown to Hivelt.

  Perhaps Hivelt could make amends. Besides, we had a saying. “Busy hands defy the nonsense flies.”

  A rumbling in my first stomach reminded me I hadn’t eaten in quite some time. Very well, I would hunt and bring back meat to replace all I had stolen.

  Decided, I spared a last look at the ship. Curiosity drew me toward the window. When I peered in, I saw Joaxma’s eyes closed.

  Good. I would have time to hunt.

  Stealth settings engaged, I crept back into the wilderness. I could snatch and capture the little creatures I had released, such as a puddle bird or more jokapazathel, but would it not be better to capture something larger? What about the fat meat of the mud-beast? But there was no challenge in killing it. My brow creased when I considered my unnatural desire to impress the female with my hunting prowess.

  I huffed as I found a game trail. I only needed meat. Any would do.

  A stray thought of my brethren scampered across my mind. Where were they? Had they reached the under-mountain passageways by now? Did their sight-captures please the Ikma Scabmal Kama?

  I scratched the back of my neck and grimaced. I had deserted my
fellows. Regret, stiff and hot in my chest, caused me to hang my head in shame. It had seemed the right action to take, but now? I could not say it had been a well-considered decision.

  Spying movement, I quickly discovered it was only the purple and green jodaxl flying amongst the branches.

  I crouched.

  True, I’d left my brethren to their own battles, but I had not deserted them. I regretted parting from them. But I had dissented from my queen. That was a worthy choice; of that I had no doubt.

  Naraxthel spoke of the corrupt ways of the Ikma. I had succumbed to her devices, countless ceremonies of raxshe and raxma forfeited so that I might sate her ferocious hungers. I had no offspring, save one. Now that I had exiled myself to Ikthe, I would have no more.

  Heat suffused my chest and flared up my neck. The tendons in my neck locked up, and I clenched my teeth. And what of my one offspring? What paths lay before her if I lived my life in exile? Never before had I considered the cascade of consequences for a single choice as I did now. The greatest honor among my people was to feed the sisters and produce many offspring. I had removed myself from both with my hasty decision.

  I bowed my head. Ah, but that was the crux of it. When I was satisfying the Ikma’s demands, I was dishonoring my people. Yes, I brought meat, but to deny the wish of the Goddesses to create more hunters and sisters was to ignore the fiber of my creation. Therefore, my decision to leave the queen’s lair for good was the only one that counted. Satisfied the Goddesses approved, I had faith they would aid me in protecting my offspring when that time arose.

  I ground my teeth while I scanned the understory. There! A jokapazathel. It would be the first of many creatures I needed to make up for what I had wrongfully taken from Joaxma. I tilted my head. One could make the comparison that I had done to the human what the queen did to her people. Taking what rightfully belonged to someone else.

  Ah, the Goddesses had taught Hivelt with the very creatures of their sacred planet. So be it. It was time for Hivelt to recompense the first of his many misdeeds.