Hunted on Predator Planet

by Vicky L Holt

  Doubts assailed my mind, but I jettisoned them one by one.

  BoKama’s voice entered my helmet.

  “I am at your ship,” she said. “What do you require of me?”

  “Esra has sustained wounds. Prepare the healing chamber.”

  “Very well.”

  I arrived at my clearing, the Tech-slave standing ready at the bay door. I flew past him, my boots clanging on the metal ramp as I entered my ship.

  The healing chamber’s bed was ready for Esra. I placed her upon it and stood back. BoKama, now wearing her light armor, placed a hand on my arm, and we watched as the machine rolled over Esra, enclosing her for a time.

  “Where did you go?” I asked BoKama, anger barely concealed between my clenched teeth.

  “Covering tracks, Naraxthel. You must trust me.”

  I ripped off my helmet and tore off my gloves, letting them fall to the floor. I approached the table when the machine receded into the wall and touched Esra’s face with a knuckle. Dried blood obscured her white skin.

  The healing chamber’s technology announced errors. I cursed.

  “VELMA,” I said. “Use your invisible fingers to access my ship. Heal Esra.”

  VELMA said nothing, and my heart raced once more. I took Esra’s hand in my own, and something dropped out. A pale gray stone. It gleamed under the healing lights.

  “I have accessed your medical device. While I am currently unfamiliar with its capabilities as it is designed for your physiology, I was able to scan Esra’s body. Her neck and spine are intact. Her ankle is broken.” VELMA paused, then continued. “Scans indicate a significant history of forearm, wrist and hand fractures, as well as broken ribs. It appears she sustained them well before landing on this planet.”

  My mouth dried out, and I saw white sparks before my eyes. Heat, unclouded by guilt, boiled in my gut. What had Esra endured before she landed on my hunting grounds? I clenched my hands and took deep breaths through my nostrils.

  “Put Esra’s helmet on,” VELMA said. “I will diagnose further injuries.”

  I detached her helmet from my pack and slipped my hand under her head. She stirred. I froze, unwilling to jostle her should something cause pain.

  “Red? BoKama? I can smell you.” Esra spoke and VELMA translated for us.

  I let her helmet fall to the floor with a clunk. “Esra, what hurts? Does your neck hurt?” VELMA’s voice traveled through my ship’s comm as she said my words in Esra’s language.

  “Everything hurts, Red. That damn dinosaur almost ate me,” she said and groaned. “I think my whole leg is broken. Unless it’s gone. It could be gone. I was afraid to look.”

  “You are wearing both boots,” I said, controlling the emotion threatening to close my throat.

  “Thank the Goddesses,” she said in a quiet voice. “Why are you holding my head?”

  “You need your helmet,” I said. “Can you feel your limbs? Blink your eyes or signal with your fingers?” I dared not breathe as I watched her respond to my commands.

  “Everything seems to be accounted for.” She peered at me through slits. “You’re never going to believe this. But I killed it before it killed me.”

  My heart leapt and my lips curved up. “You are Iktheka Raxthe, now, Yasheza Mahavelt.” Although by the history of her injuries, she was mighty long before she arrived on Ikthe.

  “I don’t know what you just said, but I hope it’s good.”

  “It is very good,” BoKama said. “Sit, if you can, child. Naraxthel will watch over you.” BoKama took a wet cloth and bathed Esra’s face and neck.

  Esra sighed, moving her joints in turn, testing their strength. She took the helmet BoKama offered and put it on. I watched her lips move as she spoke to her technology.

  “Your mate is worthy,” BoKama said, giving me a sideways look. “But you deserve nothing less.”

  Esra deserves a worthy mate. My heart-home declares I am that mate. But would she?

  “What do we do next?” Esra asked BoKama.

  “We will find the Ikthekal and finish the quest,” BoKama said. “I believe he promised me wealth untold.” She cocked her head at me and Esra laughed.

  I gave a grim laugh. “Do you think Ikma knows of Esra’s existence?” I grasped her hand, and she squeezed back. My heart jumped.

  “She does not. I monitored the comms from my ship. She sends the vanguard to seek explanation for your lack of sight-captures.”

  I gave a half-smile. “I sent her one not a zatik ago. Perhaps she will be sated for a short time.” I thought of my brethren. “We have only a few rotiks before we must leave here.” I opened up my comm, and triggered Natheka’s channel. “Natheka, how do you fare? We are on our way to your first checkpoint.”

  “There is still no sign of Hivelt.”

  Esra gasped and furrowed her brows. Her mouth turned down. The concern touched my heart.

  “We will find him,” I said. I did not add we would give him a Hunter’s Pyre when we did. It was understood. But I hoped we would find him alive instead.

  “I have news, my brethren,” I said. Esra leaned forward in her seat. I smiled. “I received a visit from BoKama.” Gasps and yowls erupted through the comm. “BoKama shares our disgust for Ikma’s hasty sentence. She has plotted with me to overthrow Ikma’s reign. In return, she will become Ikma Scabmal Kama.”

  Voices scrabbled over one another. Raxthezana’s came through in a slither. “You have sentenced us all to raxfathe and death.”

  I slid my eyes to see Esra’s reaction. Her eyes were wide, and her mouth gaped.

  “No. We will triumph.”

  Esra’s face paled and mouth tightened. She stared at me, her blue eyes filling my vision. I could not decipher her emotion.

  “BoKama will have labeled you traitor by now. Ikma Scabmal Kama will be sending the Royal WarGuard,” Raxkarax growled through the comm. “I will kill you myself when you arrive, after smashing your soft traveler with my boot.”

  I roared and Esra curled up in her seat, a little jokal. I heard her splutter with indignation.

  “Raxkarax,” I said. “Esra can hear every word we speak. You will apologize when we arrive, or I will feed you the soup of the mud-beast with my raxtheza.”

  Silence for several tiks.

  Natheka’s voice entered the cabin. “We are on edge, Naraxthel. The pazathel-nax separated us from Hivelt.” He paused. “And now you have made a decision that impacts the rest of us. Without our consent.”

  I dipped my head. Swallowed.

  “You have every right to be angry with me,” I said. “My attention was divided, and BoKama arrived without notice. My only thought was to protect Esra. When we land, I will explain all in detail.” My eyes drifted back to her, where she listened with hands clasped together and knees drawn up to her chest. Her eyes shimmered with wetness, and the muscles around her mouth strained to stay smooth. She feared us. She feared me.

  I wished I could utter the next words privately, but I wanted no secrets between her and I. I faced Esra as I spoke to my companions. “My heart has left the heart-home. The chamber is closed.” I heard a gasp or two over the comm. “The myth is true. I have found my Heart Mate. You must know I would do anything to protect her. Anything.”

  The tears brimming in Esra’s eyes fell down her cheek. I did not know her thoughts. Her mouth contorted and for yet another tik, I caused a female to cry. I turned away and uttered a soft kathe.

  If my companions defied me, Esra and I would be forced to flee through the ikfal. I would not kill them, despite my threatening words. I had no desire to shed the blood of my brethren.

  “Your brother has done well,” BoKama broke into the conversation. Dead silence on the other end. “I was in contact with the Ikma. We have deceived her. She believes you all dead since your sight-captures have stopped. She recalled the WarGuard as Naraxthel just sent her a sight-capture. Naraxthel suggested you continue on your quest to collect the Waters and the woaiquovelt.” BoKama coc
ked her head. “The Ikma has not detected my treason yet. After a time, I will return to Ikshe with tales of Naraxthel Roika’s undying loyalty. What say you, Ikthekal?”

  Silence.

  My heart stilled. I dared not take a breath.

  Raxthezana spoke. “May the life of Shegoshel shine upon you and your offspring, BoKama.”

  “May the death of your enemies bring peaceful slumber,” she answered.

  I exhaled. “Let us trek now.”

  “After we bind your Yasheza’s ankle,” BoKama said. She found bandages and bound Esra’s ankle with haste. VELMA discouraged the use of our pain medications.

  “I need to scan its properties to ascertain compatibility with Esra’s biology.”

  Esra groaned but said nothing.

  I programmed my Tech-Slave to clean the ship after our short stay and to remove trail sign in a veltik radius.

  With Esra pulled close to my heart as I carried her, I ran once again, BoKama trailing behind. Ever since I had revealed Esra was my mate, Esra had not spoken a word.

  “Did I offend you?” I said through dry lips.

  “No, but I have a question.”

  I clutched her closer when I jumped over a deadfall. “Ask it.”

  “Why is your armor black?”

  Her question nearly made me stumble, but I found my footing. I did not answer, but I heard BoKama scoff.

  “I had to destroy your ship else it would be seen by the Queen’s guard.” She tapped my shoulder. “This fool ran into the explosion.”

  Esra’s face went white. “VELMA. How are you functioning without the pod?”

  “BoKama told me her plans. I am authorized to activate the Scram Nosecone Protocol under conditions of imminent destruction. My neural network is contained in the nosecone which now operates as a Super Low Orbit Satellite.”

  I watched Esra purse her lips and blow. Then her eyes found mine.

  “Did you run into the fire?” Esra pushed. “To save me?”

  “Yes.”

  “But I wasn’t there,” she said, her voice quiet.

  “No.”

  “You found me anyway,” she said.

  “I will always find you,” I replied the only way I could. With truth.

  Her next question was so quiet, I was thankful VELMA still translated in our helmets.

  “What will you do when you find me?”

  I felt the ground beat against my boots as I ran, thinking over my answer.

  “I will give you my heart, every time, Yasheza.”

  She whimpered.

  I saw a tear trace the line of her cheek to her jaw, and I wished I could taste it with my tongue.

  “What does Yasheza mean?”

  “It can mean soft,” I said. “Like Soft Traveler.”

  BoKama giggled behind us. I ignored her.

  “Or?” Esra would not let it go.

  I swallowed. “Or it can mean Touched Heart.”

  I felt Esra tremble in my arms, even through my armor. I spared a glance at her face but returned my gaze to the trail ahead of me.

  She was quiet the rest of the day and into the night, but she rested her hand upon my armor, right above the place where my heart now resided. Its new heart-home, in her hands.

  51

  Mate?

  I sat useless while BoKama and Red made a small camp. The suns set, and darkness spilled over the hills and into the forest. Every time my mouth formed a question, I dropped it. Instead, I watched him. The way he walked. The way he carried himself. The way his now-black armor absorbed light so he disappeared into the shadows when he went to collect wood for the fire.

  I tried to make a comfortable place on the pallet, but chunks of feldspar, quartz, fuchsite and numerous others found the soft tissue in my body when I tried to relax. I swept them aside, a fruitless endeavor.

  BoKama walked out of the dark woods and squatted next to me. “You are not uncomfortable because of the ground.” VELMA translated our conversation.

  I pressed my lips together a second, then lifted my eyes to meet hers. “Why were you not surprised when Re-uh, Naraxthel told everyone I was his mate?” I peered over her shoulder at his form, but his head tilted to the side, as if he slept. I was skeptical.

  “Because the myth has become reality,” she said. She turned to watch him. “He conceals wounds. The fire—it caused great injury to his skin beneath the armor.”

  My eyes burned. I shook my head at her words.

  “What does it mean to be worthy in your culture?” I asked.

  BoKama’s eyes rounded and her brows rose. She nodded and looked between Red and I. “The Goddesses created all. I have studied the ancient words and myths,” she said. “It is my understanding our worth depends upon our existence.”

  I chewed on that thought. “I have worth because I exist?”

  She smiled. “Precisely.”

  My hand clutched the stone I’d found before I fought the giant beast. I didn’t know how I still had it. My final quest … my eyes drifted to Naraxthel. Wounded under his armor, carrying me through the forest.

  “I do not know your people.” I met BoKama’s eyes. “Are mates subservient?”

  She grinned, her fangs catching firelight from the campfire. “The males serve us,” she said. Then she sighed. “But there haven’t been Heart Mates in hundreds of cycles.”

  I felt her hand push my shoulder.

  “Has Naraxthel told you the name of this planet? It is called Ikthe. Certain Death.”

  A chill settled in my abdomen. “It’s a horrible place.”

  “You almost died,” she said. “Many times?”

  “Yes.” I peeped at her. She pursed her lips.

  “The Goddesses view life as beloved, and death as sacred.”

  I sucked in a breath, remembering Red’s words to me. They came to me during my darkest hour on this planet, when I almost—stopped fighting to live.

  BoKama smiled. “The Goddesses favor you, child.” She rested her elbows upon her knees. “Why do you not make our people your people? Stay with Naraxthel. Bear him hunters and sisters.”

  The blood drained from my face and my mouth dropped open. BoKama stood and walked back to the perimeter, watching for the dangers that lurked in the night. She spoke as if I had a choice. My pod was gone. I drew in a shaky breath. My pod was gone, but I hadn’t used it to kill the rokhura. I had value and ability without the pod. Simply because I was alive. And by the sounds of their beliefs, I had value once I died, as well. Naraxthel and BoKama seemed to think I was worthy to be among them. What would be different if I was with Red? I thought of the song we sang together. And how we laughed. The difference was I would be happy.

  I was no longer afraid of the predators on this planet. I was afraid of a life without Naraxthel.

  I pondered on the myth BoKama shared with me. Why did the hunter-mate leave? The answer was so obvious. If they had only shared the soup … My heart sped up. Shallow breaths punctuated my thoughts. The stone. I tumbled it in my hand, rolling it over and over. The token was a stone? Snippets of the dream popped up in my mind. Triumph. I ran a gloved finger over the stone, caressing the smooth texture.

  I will cut your heart out.

  But Red, with his heart on his sleeve. Huh. With his heart in the new place …

  I will give you my heart. Every time.

  Red’s words would stay with me forever. How could he know the perfect thing to say? He couldn’t. The dreams of the Goddesses replayed in my mind. They made me pant and my chest constrict. As did the loathsome Chris’s parting words to me.

  I swallowed and turned away to stare into the black forest. If I could choose to give my heart to anyone, it would be to Red. I just wasn’t sure if I knew how to use mine anymore. But I wanted to. I squeezed the stone until my hand cramped.

  52

  “This is a horrible place.”

  My mate’s tears tore at my heart.

  Was I a selfish hunter? I declared Esra my mate before
giving her the opportunity to say yay or nay. I would not push myself upon her, but she had no chance to see me in any other capacity than as a bloody warrior covered always in hunting filth. Perhaps my violence reminded her of the one who forced her to hold her arms and hands in front of her body in defense. I growled low, daring any of Ikthe’s predators to face me this night.

  I would not withdraw my declaration, but I could not expect Esra to run into my arms and proclaim her unending happiness. Not when she feared me more than she cared for me. If she cared for me.

  This kathe planet had indeed almost killed her numerous times. It was a horrible place. No place for a female, let alone one of her fragile mien. And yet she had proved herself time and again. Both before she arrived, and after. I was not ashamed to call her my mate. I leaned my head against the tree and closed my eyes to pray.

  Holy Sisters, what would you have me do? Certain Death is not the place to join with a mate. Ikshe is under the powerful boot of the Ikma Scabmal Kama. I cannot take Esra there. Esra belongs with her people …

  Elder Sister and Younger Sister stood before me in shimmering golden robes. Their beauty outshone the queen on Ikshe. Elder Sister did not smile, but I felt love pouring forth from her heart to mine. Younger Sister smiled at me.

  “Do you dare to tell the Shegoshel where Esra belongs?” Elder Sister asked.

  I felt my face darken and I was wont to take a step back, but I raised my chin. “My mate is unhappy. She was torn from the bosom of her people.”

  “Esra was severed from a poisonous body. She is where she belongs.” Elder Sister’s eyes narrowed on me until I submitted.

  “What am I to do with a female on Certain Death!” My frustration burst out before I could bite my tongue.

  “Bring life, of course,” Younger Sister said with a smile. “The answer is in the soup.”

  A giant bowl of simmering soup bubbled in front of me; it wasn’t there before. The Sisters stirred it with long-handled ladles. Younger Sister brought the ladle to my lips. “Sup. It will make you well.”