Merkiaari Wars Series: Books 1-3

by Mark E. Cooper

  Kazim took first watch, and Shima gratefully allowed her thoughts to slow enough that she could attempt sleep.

  “Shima?” Kazim whispered. “Please Shima, wake up. Something is coming.”

  Shima didn’t groan, though she wanted badly to do just that. The way she felt—weary to the bone and aching in muscle groups she had over used—she couldn’t have slept for very long. When she opened her eyes though, she could tell by the level of light and shadow that it was mid afternoon. Kazim was supposed to have woken her to trade watches much sooner than this. She felt anger stir but then fade, defeated by tiredness. What was the point in anger now the damage was done? No point at all, and besides, Kazim probably thought turn about was fair considering she had let him sleep in Zuleika yesterday

  Stifling her groans she stretched each leg and opened her eyes. “Mmmmmffffph, whatsit?” she mumbled around a tongue that felt thick in her mouth. By the Harmonies she wanted a drink.

  “Hush!” Kazim hissed under his breath. “Something’s out there... I feel it.”

  Shima stiffened and her eyes opened wide in alarm as she remembered the situation. Tahar, Merkiaari, Chailen...

  She rolled over to find what had Kazim so worried. He wasn’t strong in the Harmonies; if he had been he would have noticed the newcomer long before this. Shima sampled the mind glow and relaxed a little. It wasn’t good, but it wasn’t a danger to them.

  “It’s one of us, not Merkiaari,” Shima said. The mind glow felt light as a breath of wind and the colours pure pastels of orange and yellows, unsullied with the jewel colours of adult experiences. “Young I think... male? Yes male, and barely old enough to be out alone.”

  Kazim nodded, taking her word as absolute fact. He was recording with his thrice cursed camera again, Shima noted and sighed. He was useless. The beamer she gave him to use while on watch lay beside him on the damp ground absorbing moisture. She retrieved and holstered the weapon sparing a brief glare for Kazim as she did so. She might as well not have bothered. Her disdain just bounced off. He would never understand why seeing the weapon not in his hand and aimed made her angry. He had no fear, none, but it was the bravery of absolute faith in another’s abilities, not in the belief of actual safety. He was too trusting, and that endangered her as much as him. It was patently obvious she could not trust him on watch alone from now on.

  She held back a sigh. Why was she even bothering to think about it? She had known from the moment she met Kazim that he needed someone to lead him to safety. He was not wilderness wise or trained in the ancient skills as she was. It was her failure letting him stand watch at all, not his; she could have meditated instead of sleeping and kept a better watch than he could wide awake. Not boasting or false pride. Simple fact.

  Why did she always find herself in the position of den mother like this? She wasn’t a clan matriarch—mother to generations—and never would be, so why did she feel the responsibility she imagined they must feel toward others? Why did she want to reach out and make it better when she saw someone in need? She wasn’t a healer with their compulsion to take away pain and coddle everyone. Frankly, she found that trait in healers annoying if anything. She certainly didn’t feel that way did she?

  She was scientist caste as were many in her family. She fit the life perfectly. Surely she had chosen the right path. She loved her work. Research was her life, genetics her chosen field. Besides, she had never shown any talent the healers would own. Perhaps it was losing her mother at such an early age that awoke this in her. Perhaps looking after Tahar and Chailen did it, but whatever caused it had made her want to save Kazim despite himself. She couldn’t save everyone, and had lost Tahar already, but she wouldn’t let Kazim sleep walk into death. He was hers as much as Chailen was... for now anyway.

  “Don’t move from this spot, Kazim. I will fetch him. And when I give you a weapon, if I ever do again, you by the Harmonies will at least pretend to know what to do with it!”

  Kazim’s nostrils flared wide and his ears went back as if facing into a stiff wind. “What did I do?”

  Shima growled low. What was the point? He was clueless. Kazim was looking around in bewilderment trying to discern what was amiss. He hadn’t even noticed her taking and holstering the beamer right in front of him! Utterly clueless, it was simply staggering how any Shan could be this oblivious to danger.

  “Just...” words failed her. “Just... don’t move. Don’t do anything, nothing at all. Don’t help me... by the Harmonies please don’t try to help me!”

  Kazim blinked, seemingly at a loss to explain her sudden change of mood. “I’ll stay here if you want me to, but whoever he is will find us on his own. That’s why I woke you. He is coming this way.”

  “I know he is, but is he leaving a trail a wild Skaggikt could follow?”

  “Skaggikt are not indigenous to this—”

  “It’s an expression, Kazim!” Shima hissed. “There are others we don’t want following him to us.”

  Realisation dawned and his eyes widened, “You mean Merkiaari.”

  “Yes. Aliens here would be bad... besides, Skaggikt aren’t the only creatures I don’t want on my tail and some are native to this region.”

  “Really? What—”

  “Later.” Shima said cutting him off. Really, his curiosity would be the death of him, of both of them. “I’ll fetch him.”

  Shima left her beamers holstered, and on four feet trotted away to fetch their visitor. Kazim was right, the newcomer would have stumbled upon them anyway, but she wanted to be sure his back trail was clear. If she had to take in another stray, she wanted to be sure his baggage was all in order so to speak. She didn’t much like surprises anymore. They could kill you.

  She circled wide around him, keeping his mind glow centred within her search perimeter. No one was on his trail, which was good, but said trail was glaringly obvious, which was bad. Shima didn’t sigh. Another city bred mouth to feed. Seriously? Why wasn’t she surprised? The trail he was leaving meant he was like Kazim, not wilderness trained. Maybe Tahar was right when he said hunting was the past, but surely moving stealthily was Shan nature?

  There was no time to debate nurture over nature right now, but if there ever came a time for such things, she would tell the elders what was what. Training in the ancient arts needed to be put into the youngling’s curriculum if parents couldn’t be trusted to teach their cubs properly. She was being unfair, Shima knew. All Shan were instinctive hunters, but that meant there was no formal schooling for it, which in turn meant a huge variation in competence. Survival could depend on such things now.

  Shima took a little time to blur the youngling’s trail. Easily done, it took no time at all before she was ready to approach him. That she did, from behind and to his left. Never surprise a Shan from the front if you don’t want your ears shredded. Tahar taught her that when she had tried to use a tree and long leap to surprise him. He had known she was there of course—he really had been one of their clan’s greats—but he had acted as if surprised only pulling his blow at the last instant. With claws in, it had only made her eyes cross not drawn blood or shredded her ears.

  “I am Shima. You need help?” Shima said standing in deep shadow, using her colouring to blend.

  The youngling spun about and rose up onto two legs in one motion, the claws of his hands ripping the air looking for his enemy’s eyes. Shima approved of his technique. He was quick and agile. He had instinctively gone for a crippling strike rather than risk a disembowelling move that could so easily have gone wrong and left him open to a counter.

  “Where... who?” he stammered searching the shadows.

  First lesson then, Shima decided. “Take a deep breath; roll the air over your tongue and you should scent me.”

  He peered into the shadows, not quite directly at Shima, ears swivelling constantly. Shima held her breath to make the lesson stick. He was forced to try for her scent, which he finally did. Shima knew the instant he had it. His mind glow would have tol
d her, but it wasn’t that. He simply lowered himself to all fours again and looked into her eyes... or rather where her eyes should be if the shadows had revealed them. Shima decided he’d had enough for now and stepped forward.

  “I am Shima. You need help?”

  He obviously did. His harness had nothing useful on it. The holster she expected to see was there, but it did not contain a beamer. It was empty.

  “I... Merrick, my name is Merrick. I am,” he swallowed thickly. “I was going to be warrior caste next nameday, but Fleet is gone now. It must be don’t you think?”

  He had asked the question hoping she would refute him, but Fleet was obviously destroyed before the landings. Shima couldn’t imagine the Merkiaari trying to land their warriors before that was done. She knew he knew that as well as she did, but there was no need to destroy what little hope he had left.

  “We will rebuild Fleet bigger than ever after we win this new war. We did it before, we will again.”

  Merrick’s ears flicked agreement, but his face was grim. “The Murderers are hard to kill. I tried but... they captured us.” He looked down as if ashamed. “My parents and sibs. The aliens took our weapons.”

  Shima’s ears went back at that. Captured? Since when did Merki do anything but kill Shan? Why take prisoners, and do what with them once taken?

  “Are they dead?”

  “No!” Merrick snarled, his muzzle rumpling to reveal killing teeth. “Captured like I said. I snuck away... like a coward.”

  This was not her concern, Shima hurried to tell herself. This youngling could join Kazim under her protection, that would be no hardship really, but... she sighed. No, no, no she had to think of Chailen. She couldn’t get involved! She mustn’t only...

  “How long ago were they taken? How many Murderers? Which direction were they heading? How armed? Did they have a grav sled?” She heard herself saying, and railed at her foolishness.

  Shima prayed to the Harmonies that Merrick’s answers would make it easy to walk away, but it was cowardice to think like that. But Chailen... she had to get to the keep for Chailen and—but Chailen would be ashamed of her sib if she heard her thoughts. Shima couldn’t bear that. Her sib was all she had now. She mustn’t make Chailen ashamed of her, and so she had to help this youngling, right? Not for her own honour’s sake but for her sib? She told herself that Tahar would have understood that logic.

  “No sled and there were ten, all males carrying those mass drivers they use. It happened about a seg ago, and they made us walk back toward Zuleika.”

  “Just the mass drivers, no flamers or beamers?”

  “No, just the mass drivers but they were more than enough. Including mine we had six beamers. They took us by surprise while we slept. Father was on watch. They... hit him, hurt him badly but he wasn’t dead!” Merrick hastened to add. “They carried him, so he must be alive. They wouldn’t carry him if he was dead would they?”

  Shima didn’t know but it seemed unlikely. Then again, taking prisoners seemed an unlikely thing for them to do as well. “They wouldn’t bother,” Shima assured him. “Come with me. I have a friend waiting not far from here.”

  Shima led the way back to Kazim and introduced Merrick. Kazim was pleased to have another person to film and question. Shima listened only absently to Merrick’s story a second time, but she noticed Kazim’s eyes gleaming as they watched her not Merrick.

  “What?” Shima said.

  “You have a plan to deal with this, I can tell.”

  She didn’t have a damn thing, but saying that wouldn’t help matters. “Don’t know what you mean.”

  “You plan to get Merrick’s family,” Kazim said and swung the camera back to Merrick in time to catch the youngling’s excited face. “Tell me I’m wrong.”

  “If you had bothered to bring a weapon, and if Merrick still had his, I might have risked it. With only me armed? It would be foolish.”

  “Yes,” Kazim agreed. “Foolish, but you are still going to do it. I can tell.”

  How? How did he read her stupidity so easily? Was it written upon her face that she was suicidal enough to try this? She scowled.

  “If I were to give my beamers to you, one each, can I count on your accuracy? How good a shot are you, Kazim?”

  “I scored in the nineties once,” Kazim said proudly. “Merkiaari are big targets. I won’t miss I promise you.”

  Shima sighed. “I don’t want your best score. I want your average, as in what can you do consistently?”

  Kazim shifted restlessly. “Low eighties, but Shima, those targets are harder to hit than the aliens are. They are much smaller.”

  “Yes smaller, but they don’t move or fire back at you.” Shima looked at Merrick. “And you?”

  “High nineties most of the time,” Merrick said without pride. “I really was going to be warrior caste, Shima. I’m better than all my sibs.”

  Shima flicked her ears in assent. She believed him, but again it wasn’t target shooting they were speaking of. “If I do this, I’ll need you both to do exactly what I tell you. No wild heroic charges. We are not trying to kill Merkiaari, we are rescuing our people. If we can do that quietly without blood, we do it and thank the Harmonies for it.”

  “But you don’t think that will happen,” Kazim said, his camera zeroed into Shima’s face in a tight close up.

  “No I don’t, but the principal stands. I need your word you will do as I say and nothing more. If we find the situation different to what we expect, or we can’t rescue the prisoners, I need to know you will accept it and escape to the keep. We can fight and avenge them another time. Do I have your word?”

  Kazim was quick to agree, but Merick was slower.

  “Merrick, your word?”

  “My family...”

  She felt bad for him, but she could not budge on this. “I know, and we will do our best but dying ourselves against impossible odds won’t help them. Now, your word or we part company and Kazim and I head for the keep.”

  “You have my word that I will follow you and do as you command, Tei.”

  “Don’t call me that!” Shima snapped, and Kazim laid a hand on Merrick’s shoulder as he jumped in surprise.

  “I’ll tell you later,” Kazim murmured to Merrick.

  Shima stroked a hand over her harness and counted the loops holding her only chance at success. She ignored the significant glances the two males were passing back and forth.

  “Fine. We try,” Shima said, and prayed her father and her ancestors weren’t scolding her for acting foolishly. “We need to move fast. I will lead you closer. I will tell you what to do when we get there.”

  Shima raced into the trees back the way she had come with Merrick, using her own scent to find where they had first met. When she reached the spot, she switched to Merrik’s scent and followed that to the place he had been captured. The stink of Merkiaari saturated the place along with Shan pheromones of fear and desperation. Shima’s vision threatened to tunnel, but she forced away the fight/kill reflex and found a trail to follow.

  Shima pushed the pace beyond safe limits. She knew she did and tried to compensate using the Harmonies. It was harder to do than she thought it should be. It was the combination of distractions she decided. Trying to sense danger with the Harmonies, trying to use scent and her tracking skills to follow the trail left by the Merkiaari, while at the same time running through wilderness with not one but two untrained males... well, it was a wonder she could do it at all.

  Finally she found them.

  “Stop here,” Shima panted. “They are not far ahead now. Take these.” She gave each of them a beamer. “Have you ever seen what happens when a beamer cell is overcharged, or burned?”

  Merrick gulped and Kazim’s jaw dropped. Shima started plucking free all the spare cells she had loaded her harness down with. She kept only two back for later, if there was a later. She gave each of the males half of the cells.

  “This is what you will do...”

  Th
e fauna and flora of Child of Harmony was different to the homeworld, and well did Shima know that. Those differences played a large part in her research. Modifying food crops to thrive here in this environment was the goal of her research. But a tree was still a tree, no matter how different its form and those oddities played no part in the current use Shima had for them.

  Shima followed the Merkiaari patrol high in the trees, using the canopy to hide her movements and the thick chunky branches as her highway. Shan as a rule were more comfortable on the ground, but hunting and pouncing on prey from above was a valid skill. Her ancestors certainly thought so, Shima mused. She doubted Kazim’s would, but then the deserts of Harmony had no trees, just scrub and brush, and lots of sand. Hunting there was more about finding prey to kill than combat. Desert clans hunted fire lizards and the like. Hard to find in the first place, but not hard to kill once found. Fire lizards were fast like most species back home, but they had few defences once cornered.

  Shima paused, gauged the distance to the next tree, and leapt, landing with claws out to gouge into bark and secure her grip. She was above the prisoners now, and Merrick was exactly right in his description of what to expect. Five Shan, four females and one male. The male was awake but not well. The Harmonies told Shima he was in pain, and her nose told her he was bleeding though not how badly. The Merkiaari warrior closest to him was no longer carrying Merrick’s father. He simply prodded the injured and stumbling male forward, snarling words that only another Merkiaari would understand. The intent though was obvious. Move faster or die, seemed the likely translation.

  Shima could have killed this warrior easily from where she was, but that wasn’t the plan. She had to save them all, not just one injured male, and to do that she needed Kazim and Merrick to do as she had bid them. It shouldn’t be long now.