by Simon Hawke
Wild kanks, on the other hand, though docile for the most part, could be dangerous when migrating to establish a new hive. With their young brood queen exposed and vulnerable, the soldier kanks became very aggressive and would attack anything that ventured near the herd. Kanks had many natural enemies, such as drakes, erdlus, pterrax, thri-kreen, and antloids, which would descend upon their hives in voracious swarms. As a result, the soldier kanks always attacked together, while the food producers would gather round their queen to shield her with their bodies. If humans happened to chance upon a migrating kank herd, they too would be attacked, and the powerful pincers of the soldiers could not only rend flesh and snap off limbs, they also injected a paralyzing poison.
Though kanks did not hunt humanoids or humans, someone bitten by a soldier kank would be recognized as carrion and dragged off to the main body of the herd and used as food. Kanks did not move very quickly, and they ate at a leisurely pace. Being paralyzed and eaten alive by kanks was a process that could take hours, especially if the herd was small. Ryana regarded it as a distinctly unpleasant prospect.
Kanks had poor eyesight and no sense of smell, but they were acutely sensitive to motion and vibrations in the ground. A soft footstep on the desert sand could be detected by them from hundreds of yards away. Halflings, who could move across the desert without making any sounds at all, could come to within a few yards of a kank without being detected, but even with her villichi training, Ryana knew that she could never step so softly. These kanks had become aware of them when they were a little less than two hundred yards away, and the soldiers immediately became highly agitated.
“Perhaps you had better wait here,” said Sorak, motioning to her to remain where she was.
“And let you go face them all alone?” she said, though at that particular moment, she was not anxious to venture any closer.
“It is not I who shall be facing them, but Screech,” said Sorak. “And if Screech proves unable to deal with them, remember I can run much faster than you.”
“I will not argue the point,” she said. “But if they get close enough, there may not be time to run.”
“Which is why I intend to keep well away from them until we find out if they will respond to Screech. The tribe is strong, but not too proud to run if necessary. If we should be separated, circle round them widely and head due east. The Ranger will pick up your trail.”
He started moving toward them at a steady pace, his cloak billowing out behind him in the desert wind. “Good luck!” she called out after him. “Be careful!” As he moved toward them, the kanks began to act like an opposing army. The soldiers moved forward en masse, interposing themselves between Sorak and the food producers clustered around their brood queen. They began to click their mandibles together rapidly in warning, making a sound like a child rattling a stick upon a fence, only much louder.
Sorak slowed as he approached them. Ryana watched the attitude of his body change in a subtle manner and realized that Screech had come to the fore. She had seen it happen before and so recognized the signs, though most people would have perceived no difference in the el fling. His movements altered subtly, and the way he held his body also changed, though not in any dramatically noticeable degree. But to Ryana’s practiced eye, Sorak had begun to move in a more animal-like manner. His walk became more flowing, his tread lighter, his entire body took on a sinuous attitude. There was something cat-like in his motions at first, and then that attitude underwent a change, as well, this time in a more noticeable way.
As Screech approached the soldier kanks, his movements became jerky and exaggerated, and he hunched over, holding his elbows out from his sides, his arms sharply bent, his palms flat toward the ground. He started moving his arms up and down in that curious, angular attitude, and Ryana watched for several moments, utterly mystified as to what he was doing. It appeared as if he were performing some sort of strange, ritual dance. Almost as if he were trying to imitate the way a spider moved, or else… and then it dawned on her. Screech was exhibiting the behavior of a kank. She heard curious sounds coming from his throat, and realized that he was imitating, as closely as his elfling anatomy would allow, the sounds produced by the kanks’ mandibles.
The soldier kanks, which had been moving toward him rapidly, suddenly stopped, hesitating. Screech stopped as well. Ryana saw the large heads of the kanks swiveling back and forth in puzzlement. She held her breath, watching with intense fascination.
The kanks were confronted with something that obviously was not a kank, and yet its movements were distinctly kank-like. The sounds coming from its throat were not really the same sounds they made, but their pattern was similar, and instead of a rapid, challenging signal, it was a calm indication of recognition.
Ryana saw several of the soldier kanks start forward once again, and then stop and back away a little. Screech remained exactly where he was. She watched as he moved his legs up and down, up and down repeatedly in a bizarre, jerky, spastic manner, as if he were doing some sort of stamping dance, synchronizing his arms with the movements of his legs. She had absolutely no idea what he was doing, but it looked fascinating. Then, as she watched in astonishment, several of the soldier kanks began to make similar movements, moving their multiple-jointed legs up and down repeatedly, as if running in place. It seemed they were imitating Screech.
One of them made a series of the curious stamping movements, then stopped. Next, Screech made a series of stamping movements and stopped. Then several of the other kanks did so, and Screech once again repeated the motions, taking turns doing the odd dance.
As she watched, utterly absorbed in this bizarre pantomime, Ryana suddenly realized what they were doing. They were communicating through the vibrations created by stamping their legs on the ground. She had seen penned up, herd-raised kanks making similar motions in the beast markets of Tyr, and had merely thought the creatures were restive from being confined in such close quarters, but now she realized that it was how they talked to one another. Screech and the soldier kanks were having a conversation.
As she watched, the aggressive attitude of the soldier kanks changed noticeably. The rapid, rattling, clicking sounds they were making with their mandibles died down and several of them actually turned away and went back to the food producers and the brood queen. Those who remained turned so that they were no longer facing Screech and then started doing the stamping dance. They’re talking it over among themselves, Ryana thought with wonder.
She was sure no other human had seen such a man-beast conversation before. Kanks could be controlled by psionic handlers, and herd-raised kanks could be trained to respond to handling prods, but no one had ever actually spoken to one before.
After a while, several of the soldiers that had gone back to the brood queen returned, bringing one of the food producing kanks with them. Ryana could recognize it at a distance because it was slightly larger than the soldiers, with a bigger and more rounded abdomen. There was some more of the stamping pantomime, and then Screech turned and started walking back toward her. The food producer followed, like a pet trailing its master, while the other kanks went back to their brood queen. Ryana had never seen anything like it. She had seen Screech commune with animals before, but never with anything like a kank. As he came back toward her, Screech straightened up, and his pace changed slightly. It was Sorak who reached her, smiling, with the food producing kank following at his heels.
“Your mount awaits, my lady,” he said, with a mock bow.
“If I had not seen it, I would not have believed it,” she replied, shaking her head with amazement. “What did Screech… say to them?”
“Ah, well,” said Sorak, “he more or less explained that he had a young brood queen with him and no food producer to help care for her. Kanks do not communicate in quite the same manner as we do, but in essence, that was the substance of the interaction.”
“And they simply gave you one of their food producers?” Ryana said with disbelief.
&
nbsp; “Well, ‘gave’ would not quite be the right word,” he said. “Soldiers kanks are motivated by instinct to protect a brood queen. And food producers are like-wise motivated to care for them. They recognized Screech as a fellow soldier kank, although a rather odd one, to be sure, and while their primary responses were to protect their own queen, the idea of another queen with only one soldier to protect and care for her struck them as clearly wrong. In a colony with two brood queens, the soldiers and the food producers divide to make certain both queens have adequate care and protection, and when the younger brood queen starts to mature, the colony divides, as this one did, and some of them go off with the younger queen to construct another hive. The situation Screech presented them with activated that instinctual response. At the same time, however, because this herd is rather small, all the soldiers were strongly motivated to remain with their own queen. They settled on a compromise. The second queen, meaning you, already had one soldier, meaning Screech, but no food producer, so this food producer came with us to help us start our hive.”
She simply stared at him, then looked toward the kank, which waited behind him obediently, then back at him again. “But I am not a brood queen,” she said. “And you are no soldier kank.”
Sorak simply shrugged. “This one thinks we are,” he said.
She moistened her lips nervously, as she stared at the kank again. “But I cannot imitate a kank, the way Screech can,” she replied. “This kank can surely see the difference.”
“Actually, it cannot see very much of anything,” said Sorak. “Kanks have very poor eyesight, food producers in particular. Anyway, it does not matter. This kank has already accepted us as fellow creatures. Its bonding response has already been engaged. Kanks do not second guess themselves. They are not very bright.”
“Then it will not hurt me?” said Ryana, still dubious.
“The kank would never think of hurting you,” Sorak said. “It thinks you are a brood queen. It would be contrary to all the years of kank evolution for this food producer to do anything but care for you.”
“What do you mean, care for me?”
“Provide you with food,” said Sorak, indicating the blister like, membranous globes covering the food producer’s abdomen. “You can ride to Nibenay and drink your fill of kank honey.” He brought his fingertips to his forehead and bowed his head in salute. “It is the very least that I could do for such a valiant thrax killer.”
Ryana smiled. But she still looked at the kank a little dubiously. “Brood queens do not ride upon food producers,” she said. “Will this one allow me to mount it?”
“Lowly food producers do not question their queens; they merely serve them,” Sorak said. “Aside from which, as we walked over here, Screech effected a psionic link with this kank. It would have been dangerous to attempt it with all of them, especially with the soldiers in an agitated state, but controlling this one will pose no difficulty now. It will be as tame as one raised by a herdsman, but it will have a closer bond with us.”
He went over to the kank and slapped it several times on its chitinous thorax. The creature lowered itself to the ground, and Sorak held his hand out to Ryana. She glanced uncertainly at the creature’s mandibles, smaller than a soldier’s but no less intimidating in appearance, then put her foot onto one of the ridges of the kank’s armor, stepped up, and swung her leg over the creature’s thorax. Sorak climbed up behind her. The kank’s rounded carapace made a firm, smooth, and slightly slippery perch, but by relaxing and settling her weight between the rounded ridges on the creature’s back, Ryana found the ride comfortable enough. And it certainly beat walking. The kank rose up on its legs, turned, and began to move forward, heading directly to the east on a diagonal course away from its old herd.
Its six-legged gait was remarkably smooth, with only a slight rolling action, and Ryana had no difficulty getting accustomed to it. This was traveling across the desert in style, and riding on the kank had the added advantage of reducing some of the dangers they might have faced. They were now well out of reach of snakes they might have stepped on without noticing them, and sink worms would no longer be a hazard. It would be a rare sink worm that would be large enough to swallow a kank whole, and they did not eat kanks, in any case. The giant, armored ants of the desert were not digestible by sink worms. The kank’s sensitivity to ground vibrations also effectively eliminated any potential danger from dune trappers or other creatures that lurked just beneath the surface of the loose sand, though this area of the tablelands was mostly hard-packed scrub desert. Still, the kank would sense approaching danger long before they would have been aware of it themselves.
As they continued their gradual descent along the gently rolling terrain, subtle changes began to occur in the environment around them. The scrubby desert growth gradually became more sparse, and wider patches of sun-baked ground were visible. The isolated stands of pagafa trees became more sparse, as well, and grew lower and more twisted than those they had seen before. The terrain grew flatter and the vistas stretching out before them possessed an openness that made Ryana feel very isolated and exposed. They were now well into the tablelands, and the Ringing Mountains, rising in the distance behind them, seemed very far away.
Ryana felt a disquieting sense of apprehension as they rode along. For miles, as far as she could see, there was absolutely no landmark. With the city of Tyr far behind them in the valley, there was no sign of civilization anywhere. That, in itself, did not disturb Ryana quite so much as the vast openness of the terrain. Growing up as she did in the Ringing Mountains, she had never been surrounded by civilization. However, there was the convent, and that was home, and the tall, dense, ancient forests of the mountains had an embracing closeness. Here, in the tablelands, she suddenly felt as if she were adrift on some vast, dried sea. Nothing in her experience had prepared her for the rather nerve-wracking experience of seeing so far… and seeing nothing everywhere she looked.
All around her, the tablelands stretched out into infinity, a panoramic vista broken only by a vague, barely perceptible, uneven line of grayness in the distance to the east. She was looking at all she could see of the Barrier Mountains, which lay on the far side of the tablelands and beyond which lay their destination, Nibenay. All that way, she thought with a distinct sense of unease. We still have to go all that way…
But the desert was not empty. Far from it. When she wearied of looking out into the vast flat plain ahead of them, she began to pay attention to the terrain immediately around them, looking closer at the desert at her feet. It was harsh, inhospitable country, but it teemed with life, life that she only began to notice when she focused her attention on it.
That anything at all could grow here seemed a miracle, but the years had evolved plant life that was capable of thriving in the desert. It was not yet summer, but the short and violent rainy season was approaching, and in anticipation of it, the desert wildflowers had already begun to bloom so that they would be able to deposit their seeds during the brief time when there would be some moisture on the surface. The blooms were, for the most part, very small and not visible for any appreciable distance, but from close up, they imparted tiny yet spectacular splashes of color to the desert. The sparse and trailing claw vine bloomed bright, cerulean blue, and the wild desert moonflowers developed globe-shaped, yellow blossoms that almost seemed to glow. The scrubby false agafari bush, which grew no taller than about knee height, blossomed with small sprays of wispy, feathery pink flowers that looked as fine as ice crystals, and some varieties bloomed bright crimson. The nomad brush, a small shrub that grew no more than two feet high, sent out long, trailing, hirsute vines that gathered moisture from the morning air and grew along the surface until they found purchase in loose soil. They would then take root, and new plants would form while the parent plant died back. In this time of approaching spring, the nomad brush would bloom with the bright orange, brush-shaped thistle that gave it its name.
From the distance, the desert appeared
flat and featureless, a vast, empty, and desolate place. Yet up close, it possessed a striking beauty. The hardy, sparse vegetation that grew here, storing moisture for long periods of time in its wide-branching roots and succulent flesh, supported a wide variety of small insects and desert rodents, which in turn supported reptiles and larger mammals and airborne predators like razorwings, which rode upon the desert thermals. It was a place vastly different from the forests of the Ringing Mountains where Ryana had grown up, but for all that it looked like another world, it was just as full of life.
For a long time as they rode, Sorak remained silent. Since he was sitting behind her on the kank’s back, Ryana initially thought he was absorbed in conversation with his inner tribe. When he had remained silent for a long time, she turned around to glance at him and saw him quietly looking around at their surroundings. His facial expression was alert, not vaguely distant, as it was when he was engaged in internal conversation with his other personalities. However, he still looked preoccupied.
“I was merely thinking,” he said when he saw her glance around to look at him.
“About what?”
“It feels very strange to be here. I was born here, somewhere in the desert, and this is where I almost died.”
“You are thinking about your parents?” He nodded in a distracted manner. “I was wondering who they were, if they are still even alive, and what became of them. I was wondering if I was cast out into the desert because my tribe would not accept me, or because my mother would not accept me. If the former, then did my mother share my fate? And if the latter, then was ridding herself of me the only way that she could maintain her status in the tribe? Thoughts such as that, and others, dwell upon me heavily today. It must be the desert. It has a strange effect on one.”