Silence from the Goddesses.
“This is very good,” she said. “I like it.”
“If we had some beans from the black trunk tree, it would be better,” I said. “And the red-eye berries make a fine piquant sauce when feasting on the jokapazathel meat.”
“Red-eye berries?” she said with some alarm in her voice. “I was afraid to touch them!”
I laughed. “They are menacing, are they not? Glowing from the darkness of the shadows,” I said while wiggling my fingers at her with another laugh. “I often wonder who of the first Theraxl were brave enough to try to eat them.”
I was rewarded with the rich sound of Pattee’s laughter. “Someone had to be first.” She smiled up at me.
My heart lurched.
“We joked about similar foods on my home world.” Her voice quieted. “My father and I laughed about popcorn, actually.”
I noted her subdued tone. Taking a risk, I quested further. “What does the word ‘father’ mean to you?”
She caught her breath a jotik. Cleared her throat. “He raised me. He married my mother when I was little and raised me as his own. When my mother died shortly after, he kept me. Taught me everything I know today. I mean, except for the mining and engineering stuff.”
“He raised you? As a mother raises her young?”
“Yes?”
I puzzled over this. “What of the sisters in your community? Did they not … ah … welcome you into their homes?”
Pattee stopped and faced me with her hands on her hips. She cocked her head. “Let me ask you a question. Do the fathers help to raise their children?”
I scratched my chin. “When you say father, do you mean sire?”
“Yes,” she said. Her brows creased a little.
“The sires do not raise any offspring,” I said. “Their only joy is to serve the sisters. We bring meat aplenty to the sisters of Ikshe, and they feed and care for the young, as well as their other duties on the planet: governing, crafting wares, and farming. Many work in the technology industry, as well, alongside some of the hunters who choose to stay on Ikshe rather than hunt here.”
She folded her arms and persisted in looking at me. “The women do all those things and raise the children, too?”
I shrugged. “It is our way. We bring food. We often sight-capture our hunts and kills so that the sisters may watch and be entertained. The hunters patrol the sister planets to guard from our enemy, the Makathel.” I watched her pull her lip between her teeth. “Your Hunter-sire raised you?”
She nodded.
“Ah, that explains it. You are wise to the old ways. The way of the Hunter.”
Her face broke into a small smile. “I suppose you are right.” She kept looking at me after we walked again. If she had another question, she didn’t ask it.
I pondered on the fact that her sire had raised her. I had a little female offspring from perhaps five cycles ago. Her dam received first choice from each of my hunting gifts, and I gave freely. I recalled my little raxma’s name was Afarax, but I had not seen her in a few cycles. Perhaps I should ask after her.
Ah, but I was dead to my people.
My heart-home pinched and twisted, trying to eject the heart from its fibrous cavity.
Who would provide for her now?
Truly, Hivelt did not consider anyone save himself when choosing to run from the Ikma Scabmal Kama.
Pain lanced through my heart-home, causing me to drop to my knee. I grasped at a tree branch to prevent falling, but it tore away from its trunk, and I collapsed to the ground.
The ripping and burning sensation ebbed, but I saw sparking lights flash before my eyes. And my helmet was off. I blinked and found myself looking into Pattee’s concerned eyes.
“What happened?” She darted her gaze about, looking for a foe, perhaps.
The enemy lay within.
“I am paying the price for a bad decision,” I said and sat up, ignoring her offered hand. “I will be well in an iktik. Only wait.” I took a few deep breaths and then stood. My heart returned to its normal position and beat as if it hadn’t threatened to tear a new hole out of my chest. “Tell me, Pattee,” I said, resuming our walk.
“Have you ever done something so reprehensible that you could not live with yourself and preferred to die?” I did not know what possessed me to ask such a question of her, but when the smell of regret, despair, and terror blended into a maelstrom of odors coming off her skin in waves, I realized it was a dangerous question I may not want the answer to. I glanced at her face to see her brown skin turning ashen and moisture flooding her eyes.
Her mouth clamped shut, and she walked ahead, replacing her helmet as if to create distance between us. Her hands made tight fists when she held her weapons once again.
I thought I heard the wooden javelin creak in her grip.
She did not answer me.
I shook my head. Hivelt was ever a lumbering fool with females. First the Goddesses, and now Pattee, who may be my heart mate, but who would most likely prefer to see me fodder for the rokhural or the pazathel-naxl.
We hiked through a game trail, and I studied the area. We were not far from the place I had abandoned my sword.
“Come this way a jotik,” I said and turned off the trail. I checked to see she followed me and found the mossy trunks and spongy ground where my brethren and I had first been ambushed by the devil-dogs. I poked around in the brush, remembering the bloody battle. It was the last sight-capture I had sent to my queen. If she hadn’t sent her vanguard to collect a trophy from the battle, then it should still be …
Pattee cried out.
I spun, drawing my double-blade in one hand and my short blade in the other.
She stood holding my Shegoshe Raxtheza aloft, an odd smile on her face. The Sister Suns’ light reflected off the metal and cast a show of purple shapes upon Pattee’s face. They reflected as jewels on a crown across her forehead.
I strove to draw breath at her beauty and fire.
She resembled an icon in the temple at the Deadlands of the Little Sister Shegoshel. The Warrior Sun Goddess.
I desired to fall to my knees and worship, but I dared not anger the true Goddesses. Was she an emissary then?
My dream returned with force. The Ikma Scabmal Kama had drawn her own Thezana across Pattee’s neck. I shook off the image.
“You found the sword,” I said and swallowed.
She looked at me. “This is what you were looking for,” she said. “It was driven into the ground. There are some bones,” she said. “Devil-dog?”
“Ik.” I approached her. She was strong to heft my sun blade with ease. I held out my hand, and she offered it to me hilt first. “Thank you.”
She rested her hand on a hip. “Would you like to tell me how you, um, misplaced that monstrosity?”
I sighed, examining the blade. The elements had not damaged it at all. I brushed off the humus; it fell away with ease. I appreciated the beveled edge and the delicate purple sheen glinting from the sunlight. Then, I sheathed it.
“I will tell my story if you will tell yours,” I said after meeting her gaze.
She scraped her lower lip with her teeth, and my heart skipped three beats before resuming its normal pattern.
“Deal.”
37
“We should leave now, before the suns rise,” Naraxthel whispered in my ear.
I relished his closeness, but he was right. We couldn’t waste a single day cooped up in this dark cavern waiting for the rokhural to discover and hunt us. Pattee might need our help. We would have to go back the way I had gone and then pass through the other nesting site, all before the suns rose in three hours.
Naraxthel folded up his pallet, and I packed away our small meal. We’d utilized a few precious minutes for stolen kisses and a short nap. I missed the little oasis where we’d spent more time acquainting ourselves with each other’s bodies and minds. We had been free from danger long enough to relax and be vulnerable with
each other. Now our adventure continued, rife with peril. But I was excited to see another woman, and sometimes I had dreams of the future—and it was a beautiful place. If we could just get there.
We packed everything as quietly as we could to escape notice, but then it was time to enter the lion’s den. Again.
Knowing Red was right behind me calmed my racing heart, but only for a few minutes. I was small enough I could avoid being seen, but he was so large and so red, it was a problem.
“What if we try VELMA one more time?” I asked him. I would feel so much better if he could use his amazing stealth mode. It was more advanced than my EEP’s camouflage hDEDs that used refracted light to trick the eye. He’d be invisible, but the cave-in had caused damage to his controls.
“VELMA, can you diagnose Red’s armor malfunction?”
Nothing.
I quirked my mouth and stared at his red armor. “You need mud.”
He raised his brows at me.
I winked and squatted, gathering up handfuls of moist dirt wherever I found it. I smeared it over as much of his armor as I could, and he joined me once he realized what I was doing. It wasn’t perfect, but we managed to obscure places where blinking lights drew attention to his armor and the spots that gleamed when any kind of light shone on them.
Satisfied, he gestured for me to go first. From here on out, it was radio silence. I could mute my mic and talk in Red’s helmet, but we’d decided to keep communication to a minimum. It was risky enough without sound.
I engaged night vision, crouched, and entered the lair of the sleeping dinosaurs again. Just like the first time, sweat pricked my skin. I paid close attention to the ground in front of me, careful to position my footfalls on flat, clear ground. No stones to kick. No debris to step on and crack. Every few feet, I looked at the mountain of dinosaur bodies on my left to assure myself they still slept.
Once I reached the rockfall, I breathed more easily. I was concealed by the fallen rocks and followed the naturally occurring path to the next tunnel. Crouching and moving forward, I trailed my hand along the cavern wall to my right and listened for Red behind me but heard nothing. Looking back, I didn’t see him.
Don’t panic. Red was fine. He was always fine. When he’d been burned alive, he’d been fine.
Coaching myself, I kept moving, breathing shallowly inside my helmet. I placed each boot with precision. The tunnel was right in front of me. I looked at the nestled reptile pile; they were not cute. I suppressed a shudder and reached the tunnel without incident. I stood against the wall and breathed deeply, closing my eyes, and letting my tense muscles relax.
Like the other narrow tunnel, it seemed too small for the dinosaurs to pass through. I leaned to investigate the space, considering their entrance must have also caved in with the earthquake. Suddenly, a huge inky form bled from the shadows. My heart jumped into my throat. I grasped at thin air; my machete was strapped to my back and my multi-tool was on my pants’ leg.
“Esra, fear not,” Naraxthel’s voice caressed my ear from my helmet. “I was able to repair my stealth settings.”
I sagged and clutched at my chest. “You scared me to death, Red.”
“I am sorry. You were quiet. I was proud to watch you sneak past the rokhural,” he said. “I worried my armor would draw their attention, so I waited and …” He paused to find the word. “Hihopazathe?”
He gestured to the panel on his arm and made wiggly motions with his fingers.
“Fixed?”
He sighed. “Perhaps. I rely upon your technology.” He reached out to touch my arm. “But I am thankful we communicate with one another now.”
“Me too.” I beckoned him to follow me through the long tunnel to the next cavern that contained another nesting site.
At its opening, I peeked in on a similar scene to the one we had just left. Nesting rokhural slumbered on mounds of giant, gray eggs. “How much time until the suns rise?” I whispered.
“A half zatik.”
I had learned a zatik was 2.7 hours, so that meant we had about an hour and a half to work with.
“The nest’s access is around the back,” I said. “Let’s go.” I started on the path, for the last time I hoped, and stepped more confidently. With Red’s deep camo working, I relaxed. Soon we would be out of danger and back on the path to reunite with a fellow human. I tread the ground, noting where to place my boot each time, just as before.
Snorting and snuffling alerted me to movement of the nest.
I stopped moving. Stopped breathing.
The noise ebbed.
I blew out, took another step, and peered at the nest.
All was still.
Another step. And another. Something cracked under my foot, like a gunshot in the huge cave, and my heart stopped.
The dinosaurs grumbled and stirred.
I looked down in horror: I had stepped upon a thin flake of rock. Slate!
With alarm, I watched the rokhural shift and rise, their humongous maws yawning in wakefulness.
I dared not move. A pale shaft of light shone from a gap in the ceiling of the cavern. I couldn’t breathe. I’d ruined our chances at a clean getaway. If I lifted my boot, the pieces of slate would fall away with a clatter. I still had another seven yards to the incline that led to the outside, and once outside, we still needed to escape the region to be safe.
Sweat poured down my neck. Would Red be mad at me? I clamped down on that thought. Red was not Chris.
I watched the reptiles’ throat sacs inflate and deflate. They were communicating with each other. So far, none had looked in my direction. How long could I stand against the wall and pretend not to exist? How fast could I run to the incline? And then up?
My chest grew tight. My breaths sped up. Chills raced up my shoulders to my neck. I couldn’t stay here. I had to run. I bent my knees and flexed my hands, focusing on the path that led to the outside.
Red’s voice, soft as a butterfly’s wing, entered my ear. “I will be right behind you. Run, my little traveler!”
I exhaled once, twice, and then ran.
38
Its mesmerizing red and gold eyes stared me down as Hivelt strangled it with his bare hands. When the light drained from its eyes, its coiled grip relaxed from around my chest, and I could breathe once more.
I sat up. With shaking hands, I replaced my helmet.
If the talathel had struck, I would have been a dead woman.
Hivelt threw the body down and looked down at me. “I am sorry,” he said. “I wasn’t fast enough.”
I was still trying to catch my breath. The green snake had come out of nowhere. The frequency signal had made me drop my guard, and I hadn’t been prepared when the snake slithered down from an overhead branch and seized me.
“I’m alive,” I said, and scrambled to my feet. “Thank you.”
Hivelt stared at the carcass where the jokapazathel swarmed it. “Life and Death dance a tangled song on Ikthe.” He looked at me. “We will away.”
“Yes,” I said, and resumed our walk, panting and looking behind me at the dead snake. That had been too close. I gritted my teeth, determined not to be a liability to my only ally and … friend. I darted a look at his powerful form, always impressed by his size coupled with his grace. It was tempting to rely on his strength, depend on his power, and revert to the helpless child I once was. But that wasn’t how my dad had raised me. I needed to take care of myself. I took a deep breath and made sure to check the canopy as well as the foliage on either side of the trail.
Hivelt hadn’t brought up our deal, where he would tell me his story if I shared mine, but it weighed on my shoulders. Great Spirit. Let the truth fly as a feather on the wind and take up the burden in my soul.
“When I was an adolescent, my father took a job with Intergalactic Mining Conglomerate,” I said.
Hivelt’s steps faltered a bit, then he slowed to keep pace with me. He said nothing.
“It is a huge industry. With outpost
s across deep space, it finds uncharted planets and mines their resources.” I peeked at Hivelt, who nodded. “They overlook things like underage employees and criminal records,” I said with a shrug. “My father had some dealings with a criminal element, and I wasn’t old enough to work yet. With no other family and an angry loan shark on our tails, Dad took a risky job with IGMC and brought me along as an apprentice.”
Hivelt held out a hand. “VELMA will substitute words when one comes up that does not fit in my language; however, I have not heard from her. What is ‘loan shark’?”
I sighed. Truth sometimes required digging up roots in dark and filthy places. “My father was foolish with his money. Um, a medium for trading items? When he didn’t have enough to pay for transportation, or food, or energy, he borrowed money. And when he couldn’t pay off the loan, he dug himself deeper and deeper in debt.”
Thankfully, Hivelt withheld judgment and listened.
“A loan shark is the person who gives the money and demands repayment with interest. Extra money, for the convenience of using theirs.”
“Ah,” he said. “Go on.”
“We left Earth and traveled wherever IGMC sent us.” I looked around at the jungle, especially above me, but all was at peace for the moment. “It was … educational. I saw many worlds. We lived off the land in some places, and that’s when Dad taught me survival skills. The ways of the Old Ones.”
“Ik. Za rax bi za Scabmal,” he said. “The gifts of the Ancient Ones.”
I smiled to hear his language. “Gifts, indeed. Once I knew how to hunt, fish and trap, we never went hungry again.” Pride seasoned with sadness touched my heart. “But my father had a way of drawing those with ill intent to him,” I said. “It wasn’t long before we found ourselves in trouble again. Trying to dodge more loan sharks.”
I noticed Hivelt make a fist, but he said nothing at all.
“He appealed to IGMC at one point,” I said with a sigh. “Their solution was to let the officials put him in prison for a few years. Teach him a lesson.” My voice cracked. I cleared it. “I finished mining school and applied to the Mining Engineering program. Uh …” I glanced at Hivelt. “School to learn all I could about collecting precious resources. But specifically, working with machines.”
Tracked on Predator Planet (Predator Planet Series) Page 20