Hunted on Predator Planet

by Vicky L Holt

  I searched her face as my mouth dropped open. A memory of a gift, the stone! I flexed my hands, but they were both empty. “What is happening to Naraxthel? Why can’t I go to him?”

  “I believe his heart is leaving its heart-home,” she said. “We experience this in our adolescence. For three short cycles, we feel the bliss and contentment of a liberated heart. But then it slips back inside, never to leave again. This is unprecedented.”

  “What does this mean? You said he would be okay.”

  “Yes, I believe he will.” She petted my arm. “He will tell you more when he returns. In the meantime, you must fully recover. We still have so much to discuss,” she said. She cocked her head. “I believe the Goddesses have great plans for you.”

  “Why do you keep saying that?”

  BoKama stared at me with her blood-red eyes. “I have been supplicating my Goddesses for two cycles. They came to me in a dream,” she said, and then let her gaze drift away from me. “I saw five stars fall from the sky. And when I awoke, I felt hope.” Then she smiled and turned her face to me once more.

  “Theraxl people speak of the Stone Heart Myth. They say it explains our adolescence. But there is another myth.” She reached out and caressed my face. I marveled that this big race of warrior-like people could be so affectionate. “There is a myth that when one finds their Heart Mate, the heart leaves its heart-home forever.”

  I blinked, entranced by her long lashes and sage green skin. She continued.

  “The heart in its true place becomes vulnerable,” she whispered. “And yet, Theraxl once dreamed to achieve such softness, if it meant they would never hunt alone again.”

  Another slow blink. The lights in the pod seemed to dim. BoKama hummed a melody that was at once mysterious and familiar. I wanted to ask what she meant by more vulnerable, but my mouth was lax. The pod grew darker still, and BoKama’s voice was a thin strand of silky web shining in the pale light.

  VELMA must have shot me a stealthy dose of a sedative, because the next thing I knew, I was waking up to a silent and empty pod. Both BoKama and Naraxthel were gone. I tested my limbs. I felt refreshed, energized. A little loopy. I inhaled deeply and found my “allergies” were gone. My body had been fighting the bacteria all along.

  “VELMA, is the deadly cave bacteria exclusive to the caves?”

  “No. I used the volatile emissions scanner to analyze air samples from this meadow and found evidence of the pathogen. However, I was able to use Naraxthel’s DNA to genetically modify the bacteriophage to act as a vaccine in your system. You will not contract the illness again.”

  “I thought the cave was antibacterial,” I said. “The dead agothe-fax isn’t decomposing.”

  “The bioaerosol is a strain that attacks living tissue.”

  “When did you culture Naraxthel’s DNA?”

  “Observe the screen,” VELMA said. “This shows your oxygen levels at the time of the agothe-fax strike.”

  I studied the chart. “What is that influx of oxygen? And other gases?”

  “It appears Naraxthel administered an adapted form of pulmonary resuscitation. I was able to collect a sample of his residual DNA from your lips.”

  “Oh wow.” I couldn’t think straight. Everything led me back to Red.

  I sat up and waited for the dizzy spell to pass. A whiff of pepper entered my nose, and I touched my lips. “Red!” I hopped off the table and grabbed my helmet and machete. The air might be harmless to me now, but the predators weren’t. The pod spun again, and I leaned my hand against a panel until the vertigo passed.

  Exiting the pod, I peered into the darkness for BoKama or Red. Spying neither, I hiked through the grasses, checking for prints. A swatch of grass was bent leading to BoKama’s ship’s landing site, but the ship itself wasn’t visible. The cloaking device.

  “VELMA, where is Naraxthel?”

  “Naraxthel is in his ship.”

  I stopped walking. “His ship?” My voice faltered when I spoke again. “And BoKama. Where is she?”

  “BoKama is in her ship.”

  I turned to look at my pod, some thirty feet away from me, but of course I couldn’t see it either, the hDEDs were activated.

  The single moon rose over the meadow, its hazy blue glow washing out the colors of the featherettes and the green of the numerous trees and brush surrounding the meadow. I heard what I presumed to be insects buzzing and sawing the air. Why were they in their ships? Were they … leaving me?

  I rehashed all BoKama had told me about her people’s myths. She had assured me Naraxthel was fine. That he would return. But his ship was not close. He had chosen to hike there. I made fists and clenched my jaw. I needed to see him. He had been in pain. If he needed to leave, fine. But I wanted to see for myself he was okay. The kiss—well, it was breathless and sweet and held a promise I never hoped I’d receive in my life—but it was just a kiss. I tried to forget the way it made me feel.

  “VELMA, chart my course to Naraxthel’s ship.”

  “It is inadvisable to trek there during nocturnal hours due to the risk of predation,” VELMA said.

  “Just give me the map, please.”

  She inserted a map into my IntraVisor, and I studied it.

  “Engage infrasonic scan,” I said and lowered myself to a crouch. Already my heart raced at the thought of entering the forest jungle. I’d seen the worst daytime had to offer. What fresh hell awaited me in the dark? VELMA’s scan showed small creatures dotting the area. Any of them I could dispatch easily with my machete. What lay beyond the scope of VELMA’s scanners? I checked the star-spilled sky above me for black shadows. Maybe Red’s Goddesses would walk with me tonight. I swallowed a lump in my throat. I almost turned back to the pod, recalling its safe haven. But then I remembered the anguish on Naraxthel’s face. What had happened to him? I shook off the tremors I felt in my extremities. This was, possibly, the most stupid thing I contemplated doing so far. Red. I blinked and cleared my throat. “Bring on the darkness.”

  I followed the path. Rather than draw attention to myself with the headlamp, I employed night vision. The sounds of the night enveloped me, clicks, ticks, taps, buzzes and whirs that only increased in volume the deeper into the brush I traveled. I stepped on something that cracked loud in the air, and I remembered Naraxthel telling me I was too loud.

  Chagrined, I tried to watch where I planted my boots, while also pointing myself in the right direction, the flat green and black night vision revealing several small animals’ eye shine. I also kept looking behind me to see if I was being followed.

  “VELMA, how are my vitals?”

  “All within normal ranges. You have made a full recovery.”

  “Thank you for saving my life,” I said.

  “Ironically, you did. You provided the necessary virus stores from which I could splice bacteriophages to destroy the infection,” she said. “The cave pool water provided ample material, as the organisms have a symbiotic relationship with a bioluminescent bacterium and a viral detoxifying mechanism. “

  “Oh,” I said, marveling at my dumb luck. Or my intuition. “Run a subsonic scan.”

  For the moment, nothing stalked me. According to the map, I had about another fifteen minutes of walking, though the route I took was thick with fallen timber and bracken. Naraxthel couldn’t have walked this way; surely, he would have left trail signs.

  VELMA’s voice sounded in my ear. “Hostile approaching fast from your three o’clock.”

  A solid mass of power knocked me to the ground so hard, my helmet unlatched and shot off my head. I yelled when the creature clamped down on my shoulder and dragged me further into the wild. I kicked and tried to grab at anything with my left hand. A trunk, or the creature’s neck, anything. But I couldn’t take hold and ended up dragging my gloved fingers through the humus while my right hand still gripped my machete.

  The pressure in my shoulder was great, but so far, my suit held strong. I couldn’t see what dragged me, but the smell was
putrid. Hot puffs of rancid breath blew up my shoulder into my nose. I stopped flailing, fearing my movement would cause the predator to shake me like a wolf with a rabbit.

  It dragged me through the thick vegetation, leaves slapping me in the face, drips of liquids splashing down onto my cheeks and body. Skittering feet fled from the trail we cut through the weeds and bushes. The pale moonlight breached the canopy in scant slices: not enough to give me a sense of direction or memorize landmarks.

  I didn’t need VELMA to tell me my heart raced, and my breaths came in shallow gasps. My shoulder began to ache. The padding steps of the creature made little noise on the jungle floor. A dank smell slithered into my nose and I sneezed. The creature released me, and I lay like dead weight, blinking and trying to make out my surroundings.

  My eyes adjusted enough to see a wide opening leading out into the jungle. I lay at the entrance. I heard the huge feet padding amongst dried leaves and twigs, and I also heard it snuffling and grunting. Just as with all the other big animals on this planet, it didn’t make loud vocalizations. I wondered if it had one of those gross throat bags.

  The dank and moist air made me want to cough, but I swallowed repeatedly in the effort to stay quiet. I inched my left hand down my outer thigh to reach the spot where I kept my multi-tool. Sigh of relief; its weight felt good in my hand. Between my tool and my machete, I could defend myself.

  A strange high-pitched noise burped in the air behind me. It was joined by the little eruptions of more such noises. I couldn’t be sure, but I thought maybe it was the creature’s young. I still didn’t know what it looked like, but apparently, I was to be its babies’ snack.

  Tears pricked at the corners of my eyes. I was a geologist for Pete’s sake. I did not want to be plunged into a kill-or-be-killed scenario, but here I was.

  I closed my eyes and took a cleansing breath. Gripping my tool tighter, I shifted and craned my neck to see the occupants of this shallow cave.

  A huge nest of dried branches flanked one wall. I could just make out the clumsy movements of some pale-furred beasts. The mama or papa, I wouldn’t know which, paced the rear of the cave. Looking for something? Waiting for its mate’s return?

  I forced my breaths to calm. I watched the animal—it looked like a giant cross between a hyena and a mountain lion—until it plopped down and lifted its leg to clean its genitals.

  I edged away, out of the cave, sweating and gritting my teeth and praying my movements were masked by the increasing agitation of the animal’s young. I had no doubt it could outrun me, and probably track me by smell or sound or whatever, too, but I had to try.

  The animal lifted its head a moment and sniffed the air. It went back to licking, and I puffed out a small breath. Inch by inch, I slid myself along the ground, headed for the side of the alcove where maybe I could climb a tree or scale this hill, or something. Soon, I could no longer see the animal. I heard the babies making their burp and cough noises, and I scooted another foot to the side. I sat up, fisted my hand around my tool and uncurled to a stand. I worked to obscure every breath.

  Just as I had hoped, the shallow cave lay at the foot of a rocky hill. Peach light from the east heralded the rise of the first sun. I could see the hill was an outcropping of more orange rocks. The leggy animal could easily outrun me, but maybe I could climb high enough quickly enough to lose it. It was a long shot.

  I affixed the tool back onto my suit leg and grasped the nearest handholds and began climbing. I heard shuffling and grunting from the cave to my side, but nothing indicated urgency or alarm. I continued to climb, stabbing my boots into crevices between boulders, using my machete as leverage in some places and listening to raining pebbles with stark fear. Any of these noises could alert the predator to my escape.

  I crested the outcropping at the same time the first sun broke the horizon. I couldn’t see far, but I could see I was surrounded by wilderness. The tendons in my neck tightened. I knew Red’s ship was southwest of my picnic meadow. However, I couldn’t see the meadow from this pile of rocks. I had a general idea of west, and it was my best option. Swallowing my fear and dread, I made my way down the opposite side of the hill. My narrow escape was more of that dumb luck I had following me around. I wasn’t going to take it for granted.

  I climbed down, marking the footholds below me to prevent stumbling. It was going to be a damn long day. The first sun broke the horizon, and its sister sun followed close behind.

  48

  I finished my ritual washings and reapplied my armor. I wanted to communicate with my brethren, but so much had happened, and I didn’t know how they would accept my new status. Kathe. I didn’t know how Esra would accept it.

  I toggled the comm. “BoKama, how fares Esra? I will be there in a quarter zatik.”

  She didn’t reply. I switched channels, careful to avoid the community channels that could alert others of my people that she and I had been communicating. “BoKama, how fares Esra?”

  I secured my helmet, locked down my tech-slave and cloaked my ship, eager steps trekking swiftly through the ikfal toward Esra’s ship.

  No answer.

  With a silent kathe, I ran.

  With my suit’s enhancements, I was able to reach the small meadow as the first sun peeked above the horizon. Neither BoKama’s nor Esra’s ships were visible. I enabled my helmet’s wave-sight, and detected BoKama’s ship. Esra’s was still obscured. Good. Our technology couldn’t penetrate her camouflage.

  I took a step toward BoKama’s ship when one of its tooth cannons slid open. “Stand down,” BoKama whispered into my comm. A pungent odor assaulted my breath ports from the direction of Esra’s ship. A rocket shot from the nosecone with a loud hiss, and then BoKama’s tooth cannon shot artillery at the pod. I stared in horror as the pod exploded in a white fireball, its concussion pitching me backward into the brambles of the ikfal. I blinked as BoKama’s ship thrust into the air, tipped in a wave to me, and then rose higher in the air.

  Stunned and winded, I shook my head until it cleared. My ears rang, and colored lights danced before my darkened vision.

  The spot where Esra’s ship had stood so proud was now a glowing blue and white ball of ferocious flames. It roiled and billowed, like a moon of fire, and shafts of flames shot out to ignite pockets of meadow grasses. The heat from the explosion penetrated my armor.

  I glared at the pod where Esra had lain, supposedly recovering from a bacterium I had caused her to contract. Could she have lived through such an explosion? There was no time. I leaped to my feet. “Esra!” I roared and ran straight into the pulsing and roiling flames.

  I strode the halls of my dream place even as I entered the glowing mass of fire. There was nothing left of Esra’s ship. The heat repulsed me, even as I tried to penetrate its depths. My helmet visor blared countless alarms and my suit’s tendrils curled inside my body, entrenched deeper and deeper as it attempted to protect my skin from bubbling and melting off. Heedless, I circled the fireball, shouting Esra’s name and looking for a weakness or rubble or the burnt fragments of the first and only female I had … loved.

  I roared again and stepped away. Perhaps her suit could protect her from such a cataclysmic fire.

  I collapsed to the blackened ground, loathing the very air I breathed.

  Were the flames growing larger? Would it swallow me as it had swallowed Esra? Let it.

  “The myths are true,” Kama’s voice said in my ear. “When the heart leaves its heart-home, the male is rendered a forever idiot.”

  “What did you do?” I asked her and tried to crawl away, but I discovered my limbs weren’t functioning. My legs splayed out, weak and useless, in front of me.

  “The Queen’s WarGuard approaches the planet. She may have discovered my treachery; I do not know. I destroyed Esra’s ship. She was not inside it.”

  I stared at the flaming ball, willing it to expand and devour me before her words made sense.

  BoKama’s voice slapped my face. “Stop looking
at it, fool.”

  I blinked.

  I heard BoKama’s muttering in my helmet. “Into the kathe fire.” She huffed in my ear. “Get you out of the clearing. I saw Esra leave her pod a zatik ago, heading toward your ship. I assume she knew your ship’s location? The Queen’s guard will arrive in two zatiks. I have led her on a merry chase of false leads.”

  I lay my head back against a log and closed my eyes to rest a jotik. Already I felt the tendrils releasing their chemicals into my bloodstream to hasten the healing process. Esra was alive? I felt my lips curve up in a predacious grin. Now I would hunt her in earnest.

  49

  I shrieked. Something was crawling behind my neck and I was seconds away from using my machete to hack it off, possible beheading be damned. I reached and grabbed, trying to find the source of the tickling, slimy wetness on my skin. Finally, I grasped a slender vine and flung it away, swiping at my neck with my other glove, trying to wipe off the goo.

  I hadn’t even identified it, so anxious had I been to yank it off me. I realized the tree I was under had countless dangling sticky vines. Every few seconds, another one dropped to the forest floor. I jittered and jumped a few steps out of its radius. The rising suns brought a tender glow to the green forest, and I hiked through it, trying to find Red’s ship.