Hunted on Predator Planet

by Vicky L Holt

  Kama’s soft laugh held no humor. “They know all.”

  “Analysis of the cave pool water reveals it is a heavy concentration of the dead bacteria Esra’s body succumbed to. This will prove useful in battling her illness. I have created a timeline of Esra’s micro-indicators. It appears she contracted the airborne bacteria inside the cave of the agothe-faxl.” A graph appeared on one of the monitors, though I could barely comprehend it. VELMA had logged every sneeze, sniffle, stumble or hiccough. I caused Esra to contract the illness when I removed her helmet. Back in the cave. I did this.

  “VELMA, do you require more cave pool water?” I asked. “I will retrieve it.”

  “There is ample for my needs. It was fortunate Esra collected this for her own curiosity.” The mechanical arms and clear and gray tubes maneuvered around Esra’s still body. Her chest rose a tik, and I made a fist.

  “Did you repair Esra’s heart?”

  “The SEDP was successful. Esra’s heart beats on its own. I am administering the new bacteriophage directly into Esra’s bloodstream. Please stand by.”

  I drew in a great draught of air and stepped away.

  “The little one keeps your interest, Naraxthel,” BoKama said. She cocked her head, peering at me. “Do you feel strange? Does your heart beat erratically?”

  “Let us discuss the deposition of the Queen,” I said. “It will be more helpful to you.”

  BoKama lifted a shoulder and looked back at Esra.

  “As you wish.” She met my eyes. “All we need do is lure Scabmal Kama here. When she dies, I will become the Ikma Scabmal Kama.”

  “Nothing will draw her out of her lair of delights,” I said. I resisted the urge to spit, out of respect for Esra’s ship.

  “Nothing except the promise of raxfathe,” BoKama said. Again, she looked at Esra.

  One step brought me into Kama’s face. “Do not even entertain the thought.”

  Kama frowned. “I do not wish to use the soft traveler as a lure.” She examined Esra over her shoulder. “It would work, though. We must come up with something else.”

  “The Ikma Scabmal Kama travels with several guards,” I said. “If I were with my other four brethren, we could overtake them.”

  “With my help,” BoKama said. Her fingers played along the scabbard at her waist.

  “How did you find this place?” I asked her. I did not like the way she continued to stare at Esra’s weakened body.

  “I told you,” she said. “I saw the ship in the sight-capture you sent when the hoard descended upon you. One moment, all I saw was the pack of rokhura, and the next, I saw a little sparkle.”

  “And you’re certain the Ikma did not see it?”

  “Reasonably certain. It resembled a glitch in the sight-capture feed. Many would have suspected an error disrupted by star flares,” she said. “However, I recognized the shimmer as a cloaking device being de-activated.”

  “And no one else saw or deduced this?” I frowned with folded arms. Every jotik I spied Esra to see if her skin resumed its healthful pallor or if her chest rose and fell. But now I studied BoKama’s face and sniffed the air around her. “The Ikma has a keen eye and intelligent mind. She could have seen it.”

  “She was busy at that tik,” she said with a moue of distaste. “Otherwise engaged,” BoKama said. “I used my access to erase the vital moment. But suddenly all was clear,” she said, smiling at me. “You weren’t distracted by the pomp of the Lottery or our royal beauty,” she said. “But rather by this helpless creature, all alone on the Hunting Grounds.” BoKama broke into a wide grin. “When you refused the Ikma, I knew then, I had been given a gift. I have been offering sacrifices to the Goddesses to send me an ally.”

  I scoffed. “We are playing into the Goddesses hands?”

  “You know it is true, Naraxthel.”

  I bowed my head. “They do not intervene,” I said.

  “They are not intervening,” she said. “They have merely revealed the path we should take.”

  “Then the Ikma Scabmal Kama will arrive on Ikthe without our help,” I said. I smiled.

  BoKama cocked her head and smiled. “Very well. We wait.”

  A sigh. A cough. “Water.”

  Esra spoke!

  45

  “Very well. We wait,” I heard BoKama say.

  I took a slow breath then coughed. “Water.” My body felt weak, but free of pain. A weight on my chest caught my attention. I opened my eyes to see Red’s head resting on my chest. He looked into my eyes.

  “Your heart beats strong within its … ribcage,” Red said. I lifted the corner of my mouth. He must have been quizzing VELMA.

  BoKama had a pouch ready. I drank my fill and stared at my guests.

  Red grasped my boot with his huge hand. “Are you comfortable?”

  His simple question reminded me of our little language lesson the other night, so I blushed. “Yes.” I avoided his intense gaze. “BoKama? What are we waiting for?”

  BoKama surveyed Red and then me before she answered. “We will speak of it later. I must attend to my ship for a moment. I advise you engage your cloaking device.” With that, she exited the hatch, leaving me alone with Red.

  “My cloaking device?”

  “BoKama found you with ease,” Red said. “Should the Queen grow suspicious …”

  “VELMA, activate hDEDs.”

  “Activating.”

  I sighed and looked up at Red, who continued to stare at me. “What?”

  “I almost killed you,” he said.

  I waved my hand. “You already apologized. It’s fine.” I laughed. “I’m still getting used to the idea that I’m the alien here.”

  His brows nearly met, and I watched muscles feather over his jaw. “When the agothe-fax struck you. I removed your helmet to assess your health. I exposed you to the pathogen.”

  I watched his face, noting his downcast eyes and serious expression. “Naraxthel,” I said. He raised his eyes to meet mine. “I would have taken my helmet off eventually.” I gestured to the outside. “I live here now.”

  “Nevertheless,” he said. “I am sorry. I owe you a debt.”

  I gave a soft laugh and turned my head away. “We don’t owe one another anything.” I looked up at him. “If this planet has taught me anything, it’s that everything just wants to live, or finally gets tired of trying.”

  He didn’t respond but touched the corner of my eye with a gentle claw. “Dua la du maikquo?” he whispered so quietly, only I could hear him.

  “What did you say?” I searched his eyes. They bored into mine. His brows furrowed and he leaned close enough I could smell pepper on his warm breath.

  “Where is your fire?” VELMA translated.

  Moisture pooled in my eyes. “I don’t know,” I said. “I thought I was going to die. And here I am. I guess—maybe your Goddesses want me to live? It’s just so hard.” A tear slipped out and disappeared into my hairline.

  “Ik,” Naraxthel said with a nod. He leaned down with his lips hovering above my own. “Ikdu?”

  Was he asking permission to do what I thought he was going to do? Did I want him to do it? Goddesses help me. I did. I did want him to. “Ik,” I whispered.

  He closed his eyes and pushed his lips against mine, a gentle nudge. My heart rate spiked when I felt his fangs, but I was in no danger from them. His lips pressed harder against mine. I pushed back, and then he growled in his throat. I raised my free hand to touch his cheek. His smooth shark-skin was warm under my palm. I tasted salt and pepper in his kiss, and then his mouth opened just enough for the tip of his tongue to lick the seam between my lips. With my heart racing, I dared to open my mouth and let him in. Warmth, wetness, fire! Clashing sensations awakened every nerve ending, and I moaned, surrendering to the kiss.

  And then he pulled away, a look of horror crossing his features, and then utter wretchedness as he crumpled to the floor of my pod.

  “Naraxthel?” I wriggled my body parts, but I was stil
l weak. “VELMA? BoKama?” I was also still strapped onto the exam table.

  “Red!” He writhed on the floor, then began crawling to the hatch. “BoKama! Help! VELMA!”

  He reached the hatch; it opened, and he heaved himself out. I saw him slap pieces of armor onto his chest and shoulders, and then slam his helmet on his head. The hatch closed.

  “VELMA, release me!” Silence. “VELMA, unhook me,” I said.

  “It is inadvisable—”

  “Unhook me right now,” I repeated. “I’m going out.”

  The cables zipped back into their ports and the restraints over my left arm and both legs detached. I was still fatigued, still fighting the bacteria that zapped my energy, but I knew I would recover. Something was very wrong with Red.

  “Get BoKama out here, too,” I said. I fumbled with my helmet. A quick peek out the porthole revealed the pitch black of night. I still needed protection. I glanced down at my sleeve. VELMA had repaired it during my illness. Thank the Goddesses. I limped to the hatch. When it slid open, light spilled onto BoKama. She barred my way to Naraxthel, who continued to torque himself into agonized shapes.

  “What—?” I reached for him, but she held me at arm’s length.

  “Go back inside your ship, little one,” she said. “He will be fine.”

  I protested, but she was much stronger than I, and muscled me back inside. “I will explain all. Leave him to his torment.”

  “Let me go!” I fought with her, but her commanding voice urged me to calm down.

  “Esra, trust me,” BoKama said. “Sleep now. You need your rest so you can be strong for Naraxthel.”

  I laid back down on the table, craning my neck toward the hatch. “Is he okay?”

  “He will be. Do you want answers?”

  “Yes!” My heart beat erratically, and I felt fatigue claim my limbs again.

  “Your technology informed me you require more rest,” she said. “Lie here, and I will explain. Naraxthel will come to you soon.”

  “Okay,” I said. Tremors followed my voice and my hands. BoKama’s soothing voice calmed my nerves.

  “Now, I will tell you a story.”

  46

  Agony I’ve never before felt coursed through my veins. Doubling over, I endured it.

  Thoughts raced through my mind. Esra in pain. Esra dying. I gasped for breath.

  “Naraxthel,” VELMA’s voice sounded inside my helmet. “Do you need medical assistance? I am unfamiliar with your biology, but I may be able to assemble a treatment plan. It appears you are in pain.”

  “Continue to heal Esra. My pain is a gift from the Goddesses,” I grunted. “I will bear it with joy.”

  Silence from Esra’s Technology.

  “I am able to do hundreds of tasks at once. However, while processing your sentence, I cannot reconcile your apparent pain with the definition of joy.”

  I gritted my teeth on a humorless laugh. “I have never experienced such anguish on behalf of another.” I fell to my knees, fighting the sensation of blacking out. “I am nothing. Heal Esra. I will relish the pain, to understand my Esra better.”

  The torment was exquisite. I fell to my side, my claws scratching the soil upon which I knelt. Waves of burning contractions rippled over my frame. I saw BoKama through slitted eyes, observing me from the pod, but not approaching. She could not hear the conversation I had with VELMA.

  Through a haze of pain, I heard Esra’s voice as if through a watery tunnel. “Help him!”

  A burning sensation bored through my chest. It felt like it was ripping open. I went to my dream place, the place the Goddesses taught the Ikthekal to venture during times of privation.

  Images of Esra flashed across my mind. Falling backward down the mudslide, lying pale and lifeless on the cave floor, her hair between my fingers, riding the great grass-eater, vaulting off its back, running through the rains without complaining, lying cold upon the table—she had done all—alone. It was the Theraxl way. And yet, what if she didn’t have to be alone anymore? What if the Goddesses brought her to me, so that I might repair the errors of my people? And repair the mysterious injury done to her, as well, whatever her former mate Chris had done?

  The visions of Esra stopped. The pain eased out of my heart-home, and empty of my newly enlarged heart, it settled into a state of contentment. My eyes streamed. Esra … was my Heart Mate.

  “Naraxthel Roika, your biology has undergone a fascinating change in the last hour. It appears your four-chambered heart has shifted and is now residing outside its former fibrous cavity. This change has resulted in huge fluctuations of what appear to be hormones. If I am not mistaken, it strongly resembles the human hormone called oxytocin. Furthermore, your heart is far more vulnerable in its new place. Are you well?”

  “VELMA,” I addressed it. “What of Esra?”

  “She rests.”

  I closed my eyes and expelled a huge draught of air.

  “VELMA, you have your invisible hands in many places.”

  “It is a feature, not a bug. It is in my programming to monitor the health of those with whom I communicate. Now that I have added you to my database, I cannot help it.”

  “I am very well, now,” I said.

  “The fibrous enclosure has sealed itself with scar tissue. Should your physiology attempt a return to its original state, you would experience death.”

  “This, I know. It is well, VELMA.”

  I stood and moved my joints, free of the crippling suffering that had overcome me for nearly a zatik. I approached the ship and stared through the door.

  BoKama stood vigil beside Esra, holding her hand.

  Would Esra agree to remain at my side as my mate? Perhaps we could have no offspring due to our differing physiologies, but I could not bear the thought of her facing her life trials alone. She already had to endure so much.

  BoKama regarded me. “Your heart left its heart-home.”

  I dipped my head but said nothing.

  “I thought it was a myth,” BoKama whispered, gazing once more upon the pale soft traveler. “If Ikma learns of this, you will both receive raxfathe. She will use the Royal Court’s maikshe to keep you both alive for weeks while she toys with your entrails.”

  I felt a hot rush of blood to my face. BoKama was correct.

  “Is she—?” I gestured to Esra.

  BoKama smiled. “She rests now. You frightened her.”

  I stepped away from the ship. My kiss frightened her? Her courage in the face of danger showed her to be an uncommon female, one worthy to bear the offspring of Theraxl, if such a thing were possible. If Esra were mine, I would never allow her to be injured again. The ritual of raxfathe would be too merciful for anyone who harmed her, including the Ikma Scabmal Kama.

  My entire future danced before my eyes, here in the dark meadow.

  My life-path diverged from this point. In one direction, a solitary life filled with lands and ships, frequent trips to the Royal Courts where I would be given homage and wealth, and after a time, a seat on the dais with an honored Ikma.

  Or the second path: hunted by my brethren, exiled from Ikshe the home of my youth, and run to ground like the animals I now hunted without measure. But with Esra by my side, as we traveled together. And what? A small child tagging along behind, clutching Esra’s clothing with one hand while sucking on the sticky fingers of the other. The child had Esra’s eyes, but my tough skin and long hair fronds.

  A shift in my long-held beliefs began at that moment. Ever before, treasured offspring were left with the females to raise. Theraxl hunters visited their offspring and different mothers from time to time, ensuring they were always fed and clothed. But there was no grouping of a male and female together with their offspring.

  This different path suggested a life alongside the soft traveler, and if that came to be, what of my heart and heart-home? Would it then exist in this state of happiness and contentment, just as Natheka and myself had wondered many times in our adulthood? I could not
imagine my life without this female.

  I had endless questions about her and her people. What gave her the courage to ride the grass-eater? Why did she scrape the walls of a cave and collect water from cave pools? What did it mean when she had a question in her own eyes? These would take a lifetime to answer.

  But if she feared me—my kiss, my ardor—then perhaps I should leave. I bent to restore the remainder of my armor, my pelvic and leg pieces, and my boots. If the Ikma Scabmal Kama learned Esra was my Heart Mate, she would indeed perform raxfathe on Esra.

  I clutched my chest. A new pain throbbed. Fear for Esra. Longing pierced my gut and mind. I wanted to be by her side.

  I cursed the Goddesses. What good did it mean to find my Heart Mate if it put her in danger of the Ikma Scabmal Kama’s wrath?

  With my armor in place, I trekked to my ship. BoKama would tend to Esra. I needed to think upon my future and the will of the Goddesses.

  47

  BoKama’s long lashes fluttered as she blinked in the low light from the pod. “There is a myth we hear as children: The Goddesses of Shegoshel created a stone for the first Theraxl. The Theraxl could come to the stone and give it their problems, and it would swallow the problems one by one. But Theraxl began to give it every inconvenience, every trivial thing. The first Theraxl became a selfish and lazy race. The Goddesses were displeased and warned the people the stone must be reserved for those burdens that could not be born alone. Only the greatest burdens must be given to the stone. But they did not listen, and one day, a male came to the stone and complained his mate had burned his breakfast meal. In their wrath, the Goddesses came down and thrust the stone into the chest of the male. They had to remove his heart, in order to make room, and that is how the heart-home was created.”

  The heart-home? Red said something about that in the ship. My breath caught.

  BoKama continued.

  “The male returned home to see that storming out had hurt his mate’s tender feelings. She shed tears as she stirred a new pot of food over the fire. All Theraxl’s previous problems came rushing out of the stone and fell into the pot. The mated couple watched in horror as the problems swirled around one another in the pot and became a maelstrom. Fearing the problems would spill out and devour his mate, the male grabbed a spoon and began eating them all. From the little splinters to the greatest injuries, he tasted Theraxl problems one by one. He grew accustomed to their flavors. But his final bite was seasoned with the salt from his mate’s tears, and he felt the weight of her pain in acute detail, from the tips of his hair fronds to the ends of his toe claws. Filled with regret, he left the home of his mate, to spare her the pain of all the world. To this day, the males and females avoid long relationships, to spare one another the pains and burdens of existence.”