Later, during their time together in the ARC, Tom and Alex had given her a history lesson that had convinced her of the impossibility that any Arzats could have survived into the “modern age” of the humans. Sixty-five million seasons was almost beyond her comprehension. Alex had converted the number into the Arzat base eight numerical system so that Ara could fully understand the vast amount of time she and Mot had originally slept.
But, was it possible that some of the astrologers from some of the other clans had also foreseen the advent of the Great Fire Rock? She and Mot had survived. Was it possible that the wise mothers of other Arzat clans also knew the secrets of the long sleep? Was it possible that they too had placed some of their offspring into the depths of their own caves?
One thing Ara did not doubt—whatever world they had awakened to—there were other Arzats present. There was certainly at least one of them anyway. One large adult male, judging by the marks he had left and his distinctive scent.
She looked over at her human companion. The Pilot’s eyes had grown heavy and Ara could sense that he was just about to drift off into sleep. Good, she thought, pondering the long journey they would have ahead of them at first light.
She noted that she was uncharacteristically tired as well. Perhaps it is the new life I have inside of me. Ara could fully sense the presence of her offspring in her body, but it was far too soon to expect to communicate directly with its mind. That would come later, after she had produced her egg.
She stood quietly, not wishing to disturb the Pilot, and critically eyed the entire length of her new weapon in the light of the fire. It was not perfectly straight and was a poor substitute for the finely crafted hunting sticks she was used to, but it would do for the moment.
She placed a few more pieces of firewood into the flames and rolled the sharp end of the weapon in the fire’s embers exactly as she had done with the one she had given Mot. Finally satisfied, she removed the stick from the fire, blew on the tip, and set the stick to the side. She then carefully slid Tom’s knife back into its scabbard and took stock of their camp.
Ara noted the fresh meat that still hung in the trees. She had purposely positioned it far enough away from the fire that any determined predator could steal it without immediately putting Tom’s life in danger. It was unfortunate, but due to their need to follow Mot as swiftly as possible, Ara realized that most of the meat would be wasted anyway.
Her eyes scanned the camp’s perimeter. From the vantage point of where she would sleep, she would have an unobstructed view for several sticks—enough space to allow her to get between Tom and any potential attacker. Still, she was quite nervous. This would be the first time she had ever slept outside of the protection of the Arzat caves or even those that the humans had created—and Mot was gone. I will have to sleep with “one eye open” as Tom had mentioned earlier, she thought to herself.
She looked back again at her human friend. He had fallen into a deep sleep, and Ara could sense that he was dreaming unpleasant dreams, but she could not see them without probing his mind further and potentially disturbing his slumber.
I had better get some rest myself, she thought. Qu’aa would be rising soon. Her instincts told her that she and the Pilot would be facing a long and difficult day.
Ara took one last look around, preparing to bed. She squatted and placed the palms of her hands on the ground. There was nothing moving anywhere close by that she could detect, just the flow of water in the streambed below their camp, but when she sniffed the air and flicked her tongue her senses immediately sharpened.
She flicked again. A strange human scent lingered on the tip of her tongue. She was convinced at first that she must have mistaken it for the Pilot’s. She tried again, totally surprised. No, this was not the smell of Tom the Pilot and it was not the almost undetectable smell of Alex from earlier in the day. It was from some other human—some other female—but definitely not Alex!
Ara slowly stood back up, clinging to her new hunting stick, now completely alert, her mantle unfolding behind her head, her eyes and her ears searching the night for any sight or sound that might help her discover the source of the strange odor. She sniffed again and caught an even stronger smell. It is most certainly that of a human female, Ara concluded, as distinctive and different from that of a human male as were the scents of male and female Arzats.
She tested the air often, sure that she would smell more humans, but she only detected the one female’s scent. She held her breath and listened intently, continuing to scan the night with her almost preternatural vision, looking for any sign of movement. There must be more humans, her mind kept telling her. This must be some sort of trap. From what she already knew of them, humans were no more prone to wandering around alone in the night than Arzats. It was quite confusing.
Ara squatted and checked the earth again, her neck twisting easily in almost a complete circle as she continued to monitor the entire perimeter of the camp. No, there was nothing that suggested a group. If there were more of them, they were not moving at all. Ara was sure she would have detected it. But there was definitely at least one, somewhere out there in the night.
She was just about to wake Tom when she heard the faint snapping of wood from across the water. Ara instantly looked in the direction of the sound and could just make out the face of a human behind the branches of some trees on the other side—a very small dot of faint light in the otherwise completely black forest.
She quietly moved to Tom and placed her hand on his shoulder. He awoke with a start, but Ara was quick to silence him with her own finger across his lips. “Pilot, there is a human on the other side of the water. It is a female, and she appears to be alone. I am going to investigate.”
“Is it Alex?” Tom asked only with his mind, which was fighting its way back from the fog of sleep.
“No, it is not Alex. The human appears to be alone, but her scent is definitely not the scent of Alex. Stay as you are, Tom Pilot, and I will go and see. But you will have to guard yourself until I return. Do not move unless necessary. I wish to surprise her.”
Ara carefully placed the long knife in Tom’s hand and quickly crossed the camp without making a sound, taking with her the killing stick she had just created. She slipped quietly through the trees on the camp’s perimeter and slid into the fast flowing stream just below it. Then, she crossed the water to an area she had spotted a few sticks from the human’s location. It was her intention to circle around and catch the human unaware from behind.
Ara pulled herself silently from the stream, again checking the earth and the air for any sign of other humans or other potential threats, but there continued to be only the distinctive smell of the single female. She moved swiftly with light feet and without making a sound and stopped in the trees just behind the female.
Ara flicked her tongue to get a full sense of the strange female and was surprised when she detected that she was also pregnant. She looked carefully to see if she was armed in any way and was pleased to see that she was not. In fact, Ara detected that the little human was so full of fear that she began to wonder if her heart would stop altogether if she approached her.
Perhaps I can probe her mind, Ara thought. She pushed past the female’s current thoughts of hunger and fear and eventually discovered her recent memory banks. In just a few moments, Ara had practically relived the slaughter at the human camp and the female’s narrow escape.
So, the Arzats in this new world considered humans to be their enemies, even their prey, she thought. It was disturbing but not altogether surprising. Ara herself had secretly considered what the humans might taste like finely roasted. Apparently, the Arzats who inhabited this new world found them to be quite palatable. Her realization of that fact did not bode well for Alex, or Tom the Pilot for that matter.
Ara also realized something else of interest. This female apparently did not speak the same tongue as Alex and Tom and the rest of the humans she had so far encountered. She had no problem i
nterpreting the meanings of the little female’s thoughts telepathically, but they initially came to her more as pictures than words or concepts. She wondered if Tom the Pilot would be able to directly communicate with her using the spoken word.
Ara suddenly remembered that she had left him unguarded and she was anxious to get back to him. But if she sprang on the little female, Ara felt that she might literally die of fear. This human was rightfully afraid of Arzats.
Ara again tested the ground and the air. There were no other immediate signs of trouble, other than the ones this strange female was likely to create. Perhaps I should just leave her, she briefly considered, then thought better of it. It seemed that this human had direct knowledge of Alex’s capture.
She focused again on the female’s mind and began speaking to her with her thoughts. “I am Ara, daughter of the great Hunter Zan. You are in no danger from me, little human Maria.”
* * *
Maria held her breath. She knew the sound of the stick snapping had probably crossed the water, but she wasn’t sure if anyone in the camp had heard it or would do anything about it. Then, for just a moment, she had seen movement in the shadows of the firelight on the other side. She held her breath, but nothing had happened that indicated she had been discovered, so perhaps she was safe.
Still, for some reason, she suddenly had the uncomfortable feeling that she was being watched. Then, there was a strange feeling in her head and a brief sense of pain that quickly passed, followed by a sort of indescribable itch. Something was repeating over and over in her mind, but she did not seem to be in control of it. It was like a dream in a language that was far different than her own—yet the same. Was she going crazy?
She had seen many others in her tribe fall into the evil pit of madness before and never recover from it. Their minds simply snapped under the weight of life’s woes, perhaps due to the loss of a child to fever or hunger or to the loss of a mate who never returned from a hunt. But despite the ordeal she had been through, up to this point, she had still felt quite sane. Now she began to wonder.
“I am Ara, daughter of the great Hunter Zan. You have nothing to fear from me little human.” It was coming to her like a whisper. Slowly, the message and its full meaning were becoming clearer in Maria’s head.
Maria held her breath once again, her heart about to explode. Perhaps the gods are speaking to me directly, she thought, certain that what she was hearing was not originating in her own mind.
“You have nothing to fear from me, little human female. I am Ara, daughter of the great Hunter Zan. I am an Arzat, though I had nothing to do with the Arzat’s who killed your people. I will not harm you unless you try to harm me. Do you understand?” Ara watched the human closely, trying to determine whether her message was reaching her.
Maria had a tingling sensation run up her back. She realized she was being watched from behind. She instinctively wanted to turn and look, but she was frozen with fear. Her body simply would not allow it. Although she had understood the message, she was terrified of what she would see when she turned around.
“I will not hurt you,” Ara repeated, sensing the woman was about to panic.
CHAPTER 24
PACK LEADER
Mot heard them snarling and fighting even before he could smell them, though the sound was coming from far up the river. He bent down and tested the ground with his fingertips and felt the presence of many animals up ahead. They sounded dangerous, but they were definitely not Arzats. These were four-legged creatures but much smaller than the buffalo he had just hunted.
Perhaps they were the “dog” beasts the Pilot described as having once been the main predators of this region. “Wolves,” he remembered Tom calling them. Perhaps they were here again, he thought, listening intently to their incomprehensible barking and moaning. Perhaps they too had survived the great fire rock. Whatever the creatures were, Mot was not looking forward to a close encounter with them.
He switched his killing stick from one hand to the other and continued on. Mot had been carefully following the scent and the tracks of the male Arzat throughout the night. Shortly after he had left camp, Alex’s scent had become much weaker and more intermingled with the male. He continued to worry that the Arzat had simply killed her, but Alex’s faded scent did not yet carry the unmistakable stench of death, nor had he found any physical evidence of her demise.
Mot reasoned that the unknown Arzat that had captured Alex had decided to carry her. That made sense. That is how I would have done it, he thought, as he focused on the threatening sounds up ahead. The Arzat would be able to travel much faster and Alex’s relatively light weight would be easy to manage, even over a great distance. It would also explain the very vague scent of Alex that lingered along with the much stronger scent of the Arzat.
What did not make sense to Mot is why the Arzat would be traveling alone. Usually Arzats hunted in groups of at least eight individuals. In the world Mot had come from, it was a bad idea to ever venture out alone—even forbidden. It was a lesson he had personally learned the hard way. Yet, here he was again, in the very same position, now that he thought about it. Perhaps this other Arzat, for some unknown reason, has made the same mistake. He could only hope so. If the Arzat was indeed alone, Mot knew he would have a much easier time taking Alex away from him. He could already imagine his killing stick buried deep in the Arzat’s throat.
When he had traveled a few more steps, he suddenly encountered the vague and fading scent of another male Arzat that was quite different from the one he had been following all night. Mot sniffed and flicked his tongue. This particular Arzat had been in this place before, but not nearly as recently as the Arzat who had stolen his human friend.
As he neared the sound of the dogs, he also encountered the distinctive but also fading odor of even more Arzats. It took him a moment to sort out their various scents, but he eventually counted six in addition to the male he had been following. This was disturbing but made perfect sense. Mot had discovered the rest of the hunting party. He suddenly felt both anger and despair welling up inside of him. Now, he feared, there is almost no chance that Alex will survive.
Mot took a stronger grip on his killing stick and moved silently through the trees. There was a slight breeze that shifted in his direction and he was suddenly almost overwhelmed with the smell of decaying human flesh. A sense of dread swept over him. Was this the smell of Alex?
He charged forward, oblivious of the danger, and suddenly found himself in a clearing full of angry dogs. The beasts yelped, surprised at Mot’s sudden appearance, and ran into a pack. There were perhaps eight by three of them, their fangs bared and their heads low. They soon recovered from Mot’s surprise entrance into the camp and began to growl and circle.
Mot realized his mistake too late. He was now facing a force much greater than he could deal with. He immediately sized up the area out of the corners of his eyes, looking for a way of escape, all the while keeping his main vision on the lone dog that seemed to be in charge of the pack. There is always one, he thought, no matter the species.
Mot could immediately tell that this had been a human camp. No Arzat Hunter, as far as he knew, would ever have set up camp in such an open area and certainly no Arzat that he knew of would have been able to start a fire. The hunters must have attacked the humans as they slept, he surmised, and dressed them here. The dogs had obviously been feasting on the humans’ remains, which were scattered around the campsite.
Fortunately, there was no recent scent of Alex. There were the much older scents of the other Arzat Hunters, the still strong odor of the dead humans, and the very strong and unpleasant smell of the dogs—but Alex had not died here. In fact, it didn’t smell as if the Arzat who had taken her had even come back this way. Of that, he was fairly sure and suddenly relieved. If the Arzats had recently eaten, Alex might not be so tempting.
One of the beasts snarled and Mot turned his attention back to these strange new predators he had never before encou
ntered. The lead dog took a few steps forward. The hair on its back was standing on end, its eyes reflecting red, even in the low light. The dog bared its teeth and snarled deeply, dipping its head in the process. Mot could see that some of the other dogs had fanned out from the pack and were quietly trying to surround him. This was a tactic he was all too familiar with. He knew he needed to act.
He was grateful now that his mate had had the foresight to provide him with a weapon. Ara would be very upset if she found him in pieces due to his foolish lack of caution. Mot quickly sized up the situation and created a plan—take out the leader and run.
He hoped that killing the dominant dog would confuse the others long enough for him to make his escape. His father had taught him that lesson long ago, and he had personally seen it work very effectively with other predators. That knowledge, in fact, had already saved his life at least once.
Without taking his eyes off the pack, Mot chose an escape route out of the clearing and lunged at the pack leader, so quickly and forcefully that the dominant dog had almost no time to react. He drove the sharp end of his killing stick just under the dog’s throat and brutally continued to thrust until he was sure the animal was mortally wounded. It yelped and fell to the ground, dying quickly as blood ran freely from the large gash in its jugular. As Mot had predicted, the other beasts hesitated in confusion and surrounded the fallen dog.
Mot howled and barred his own teeth, then turned and began to run. Even in the near dark he could see his way quite clearly. He chanced a look over his shoulder and determined that only one or two of the dogs had followed.
Moments later, he determined that all of them had recovered and joined the chase. He could hear them barking and snarling as they ran after him. But Mot was running with two advantages he knew that the dogs did not possess. The first was that he was far faster. The second was that he was the one in fear for his life.
IN NATURA: a science fiction novel (ARZAT SERIES Book 2) Page 16