The Battle for Tomorrow
Book One: Ilon the Hunter Series
Frederick Bell
Copyright © 2011 Frederick Bell
All rights reserved; no part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted, in any form or by any means, electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording, or otherwise, without the prior written permission of Alternative Views Publishing.
Manufactured in the United States of America
ISBN: 978-0-9823079-2-2
Cover Design: Molly Bond
Cover Illustration: Eric Williams/The July Group
The characters and events in this book are fictitious. Any similarity to real persons (living or dead), businesses, or landmarks is coincidental and is intended only as fictional verisimilitude.
Library of Congress Cataloging-in-Publication Data
Bell. Frederick
The Battle for Tomorrow /
by Frederick Bell.
p. cm.
ISBN: 978-0-9823079-2-2 (pbk.)
1. Literature—Fantasy and Science Fiction
2. Fantasy and Science Fiction—Fiction
3. Adventure—Fantasy and Science Fiction
1. Title
Alternative Views Publishing
Web site: http://www.alternativeviewspublishing.com
Chapter One
EARTH RELATIVE COORDINATES
planet: Egris
distance: 15,000 light years
people: Egris
location: Olahn territory
time: Present
The tree-top prairies stretched all the way to the horizon, a dark line made darker with approaching daylight. In the early light of dawn only the brightest stars remained visible in the sky. The second moon, now sinking beneath the forest, reflected on a spot where the water had collected in a stagnant pool; something stirred near the water’s edge and caused it to ripple.
Just before sunrise some of the first animals were awakening. The gray shapes that dotted the field now could be made out more clearly. Moving sluggishly forward one of the herd made a rumbling snort, and the others of its kind soon began to stir—gigantic eight-legged creatures with solid bodies, massive heads, and thick outstretched tails. Tree eaters. Snapping its jaw shut the great beast started to advance. Most in the herd resisted, yet once they saw it lumbering away they too assembled behind the leader and plodded off toward the lightening sky.
Ahead everything appeared to be the same, endless and unchanged. There were no large hills or deep valleys, no visible landmarks that might indicate their traveling direction, though the goud seemed to know exactly where they were going. Even as the day progressed the blazing sun did not deter them from their trek. At dusk they halted for the night, tearing out huge clumps of green vegetation with their beaked jaws and chewing contentedly. Where one of them was browsing a tree branch suddenly cracked and buckled beneath the animal’s great weight.
To the untrained eye it was easy to think of this place as an undulating endless plain, growing atop of what might just as easily have been mistaken for solid ground. Yet beneath the living floor, under this intricate latticework of thickly woven branches and green leaves, far, far below, was in fact another world altogether.
At dawn the next morning the goud were awakened by an animal screaming from out of the depths of the forest below. The sun was above the horizon and they were ready to depart. The invisible route they were on took them eastward. After three more days of traveling, from sunrise to sunset, they finally reached their destination. Some of the early arrivals had been congregating here for days. From all across the prairies the goud came. Now tens of thousands were grouping on the field, grazing placidly while the latecomers plodded in to join this burgeoning crowd. As one herd passed by another several of these beasts lifted their heads and bellowed hoarsely.
This was the way it was, every year. When spring came to the forests of the far north countless herds began the migration south, traveling almost to the very edge of their world, where the tall trees ended and the grass-filled plains began. As in the past this was where they came, driven here by an instinctual force to return home to their birth place. After climbing up the tree trunks and chewing through the dense overgrowth they completed the end of their long journey by mating and laying their eggs in the branches.
And then they died.
Their dying began the cycle anew. Soon after their deaths the eggs hatched, and the voracious youngsters, devouring vast amounts of leaves, grew until they were as big as the adults. They ate everything in their path, sometimes eating right down to the bare tree trunks. These ravenous creatures might have devoured the whole forest were they not possessed by the same fierce instinct to climb back down and join their kind below.
It was almost dusk and the goud were still milling about on the field. A trumpeted roar soon broke the spell. The second full moon’s light was spilling onto the herd just as the first animals gaped open their huge, beaked jaws and plunged head-on into the floor, wriggling out of sight. One after the other each goud tore through the overlapping branches and vanished into the choking mass of green growth. Now they began the long climb down into almost permanent darkness.
But the worst part of their journey was just beginning. Being on the ground exposed them to a whole new set of dangers. Unlike their tree-top home, there were meat-eaters down here, and undoubtedly some of them were stalking nearby. Luckily, many of the big game carnivores seldom penetrated this deeply into the woods. Even so, and despite the great distance that separated them—some did.
To be sure, there were other animals that were swifter, better armored, but the goud’s sheer physical size made them difficult to kill. Nevertheless they had hungry enemies, meat-eaters who were not afraid to risk death for a mouthful of their tasty flesh. So as the goud continued their downward descent it was possible that some of these bloodthirsty creatures were waiting below.
Now in the ink-black darkness the goud began climbing off the tree trunks and spreading out. The main body eventually splintered into smaller groups that were soon following their own path south. Further back, behind one of the trees, something moved. This unknown creature suddenly made a bestial roar and the goud steered immediately back for the trees. However, its sound soon died away and so the herd slowly reassembled on the well-trampled trail, though were ready to leave it again at any time.
But just as soon as the first stalker departed now another one was watching them. In absolute silence a near invisible form crouched in the bole of the tree while the big animals rumbled past. Its huge ears twitched with every footfall. Even up this close it remained perfectly motionless, watching and waiting for the moment to strike. One of the passing goud inadvertently swung its tail around, forcing the creature to jump aside. It did not make a sound when it landed. Not that its silence mattered, for once the Egris found the goud death would certainly follow.
Of all the creatures in the wild world this one was the most devastating predator of all. An incredibly fierce and fast predatory pack killer, who with its deadly rows of spiked teeth and retractable claws could tear apart its prey with bloody efficiency. Using its powerful hind legs for jumping it could chase down even the swiftest of prey. Standing erect on its haunches, at over ten feet tall this was no puny animal that could be frightened off by something as big as a goud. Continuing to watch from its concealed position, now the Egris swung its tail in the opposite direction and leapt away, only a puff of dust showing where it once stood.
The hunter, an adult male, soared through the air with a powerful thrust of his muscular legs. Each jump propelled him skyward in a graceful
arc that carried him far from where he landed. His mighty tail slapped the dusty floor as the ground exploded beneath him. Without taking a step he sailed straight back into the air, leaving a trail of swirling debris in his wake. Something was moving up ahead, dark shapes angling toward him, and so he came down just as two more Egris landed in front of him.
One of the two, a female, snorted through her nostrils as she smelled the scent of food on the returning hunter’s hide. “I smell goud,” Dhorsal growled hungrily, licking her wet chops. “So you found us food at last. Tell us where?”
Gangahar excused her impertinence, for she was indeed hungry and wished only for information that would take her directly to a fresh meal. “Traveling south,” he replied. “Through those trees to the trail marker, then straight ahead. Straight to the goud.”
“I’ll get the others,” Magamengon said without delay. Quickly he jumped away, and very soon nine more hunters came leaping in to join them.
“Goud.” Takilisk smacked his lips together when he learned of their target. “My teeth will be the first to taste its sweet flesh,” he boasted.
“Enough talking,” Yaryar ordered. “Talk when your belly is full of meat. Now is the time to hunt.”
They left immediately. Since Gangahar knew the way he was the first to depart, with the others of his trod flanking him on both sides. All of them were jumping simultaneously together, leaping high past the trunks of the great trees, heading straight toward their prey.
*****
A low, distant growling noise echoed out of the forest. The fleeing goud reached a spot where the tree trunks were spaced more widely apart, and undoubtedly this was where their attackers would strike next. Instead the karafins retreated, staying well back from the herd, though remained close enough to attack again. Earlier, three of them had boldly surprised the herd. Although slow, a lone goud was not easily killed, and these marauders, perhaps more hungry than stupid, had wrongly chosen to pick this animal for their next meal. Instead the big goud proved itself the superior fighter, and though bloodied by the battle, easily fended off its adversaries. As for the karafins, only two remained. The third, now mortally wounded, slumped to the floor and breathed its last breath.
It did not take very long for the stench of death to reach the scavengers. Very soon a roving band of ethusentaks crowded around the fresh corpse, eager for a mouthful of its still warm flesh. One of the animals, a long string of meat dangling from its open mouth, looked around in sudden fear as it felt the ground shake beneath its feet. A second ethusentak tilted its head and squealed nervously. There was no mistake about what was coming. Immediately it emitted a shrill shriek of alarm and the pack instantly divided and fled back among the trees.
Something dark soared through the air above and there was a sudden gust of wind that followed. The ground shook heavily and then was followed by silence. Further up ahead the thudding sounded again, each time growing more and more distant.
The first goud to hear them coming were at the end of the line and immediately started galloping past their slower companions, retreating back up the trees. So for those who were only now starting to react—it was too late. From high above the first hunter came hurtling down, his powerful tail thudding onto the dusty floor. Saliva dripped off his teeth as he steered straight toward his chosen prey. Using his huge, slashing attack jaws, Magamengon bit deep into the goud’s unprotected flank and tore out a bloody chunk of flesh.
Yelping, the injured animal reared on its attacker, though by the time it closed in with its beaked jaws the same spot where the hunter had stood was now empty. Another hunter came plummeting down, then another, each taking their turn before leaping away with bloody hunks of flesh. Although the goud fought back viciously, desperately, wherever it turned there were razor sharp teeth and stinging claws to send it stumbling back. Unable to withstand this relentless attack any longer it charged uselessly forward, then backwards, again and again, finding nothing in its jaws but clouds of its own dust. In this grim, sightless blackness, though, the Egris were leaping all around it, clicking their teeth in wild excitement. The goud was beginning to falter and screeched loudly as it crashed to the ground, writhing in agony. As Dhorsal delivered the killing blow the great beast screamed fitfully and then died.
A loud animal roar of satisfaction reverberated off the rooftop as the hunters gathered around the carcass to eat. Smelling the sweet smell of flesh they wasted no time, sinking their slavering jaws into the goud’s meaty hide. Though adept hunters the Egris were particularly crude eaters, often swallowing bolts of meat whole, for it was their nature to eat as much as possible since their next meal might not be for days. Yet the goud was a gigantic animal, big enough that it could have easily filled the stomachs of three other trods as hungry as this one.
While they were partaking of the goud’s tasty meat one of the hunters, a female, suddenly broke off and stood outside their circle. Something appeared to distract her, and after a moment she hissed loudly between her teeth for attention. The other hunters, some with their heads still buried inside of the animal carcass, reluctantly withdrew and responded by hissing in return.
“What is it now?” Yaryar growled ill-temperedly. His was the voice of authority. Naturally it was toward him that all heads were turned. Yaryar, the oldest, and leader of trod Yaryar, impatiently thumped his tail against the ground as he awaited her answer.
Instead Horhon maintained her rigid stance, was looking straight into the black depths of the forest. “Listen. Do you hear that? Something is moving in there.”
Yaryar frowned. “I hear nothing. Only the wind. Now be silent and eat.”
His quick pronouncement was welcomed by the others. No one really wanted to listen to her; no one could think of any good reason to pay attention. Those who had stopped eating quickly bent back over the goud and snapped up some more. Horhon was well known for raising false alarms. Earlier this same night she claimed to have sighted something flying overhead, had foolishly sent them all running for cover. It had proved to be nothing as well. So this time they ignored her completely.
This bold rejection incensed Horhon. The strength of her emotions forced her to turn her back on them to sulk by herself.
“So full,” Dhorsal moaned, crushing back against her tail.
“You look fat,” Magamengon complimented her.
“I am the fattest,” Karkakass bragged, patting her belly.
All but two had finished up. The goud’s fleshy ruins and well gnawed bones looked particularly appetizing to the scavengers that were amassing outside of the hunter’s perimeter. Some of the smaller tickridents were boldly scurrying in on all eight legs to be first before the bigger animals got their teeth bloody on them. Yaryar, his face and chest stained dark red, joined his corpulent companions to celebrate the end of an excellent meal.
“The eating was good tonight,” he said, using one of his serrated claws to tease out the bits of meat stuck between his teeth. “But I think this is our last day. We head for the plains. Tomorrow.” As leader, he was a practical thinker and had no intention of waiting for the forest to empty of goud before they were forced to leave. Though intelligent hunters who could foresee nature’s cyclical patterns, their world had its own set of rules that either they obeyed, or perished. The goud would continue south to the great plains, and so this was where they were going too.
Gangahar, still licking the blood from his fingers, crouched on his haunches beside Horhon who was pretending to ignore him. “Do you still hear anything?” he asked her.
Her headshake no was his answer.
“So was it the Iranha?” Gangahar continued, trying to get her to speak.
She grinned a little at that because he thought more of her feelings than his own feelings of doubt. “I think it was,” she replied.
Behind them, Yaryar snapped his jaw resoundingly shut. “And what foolish stories will you tell us next, Horhon? That these Iranha things are here in our forest right now, stalking us, prepar
ing to skin us all?”
“They might be, or they might come tomorrow or even the next tomorrow. It does not matter. What matters most is that if tomorrow we go south to the great plains, then they will certainly find us and kill us all. We are safer here.”
Yaryar looked at her scornfully. “Stay in the forest? Ridiculous. The plains are filled with game, the hunting is good. Everything we need is there.”
“Everything—and the Iranha,” Horhon grimly added.
The Iranha! Yaryar swung his tail down and scowled, loathing that name. He still remembered the first time he had heard it spoken aloud. None in the trod might have ever believed these stories had it not been for Horhon. She was an outsider. Only recently, home for her was in the desert country, where the grasslands ended and undulating dunes of sand began. Tragically, though, she had lost her entire trod to the Iranha, and she, the only survivor, the only one who knew firsthand of these new and dangerous killers. But he had also heard the rumors that were spreading among the other trods, stories that seemed to grow more fantastic with each telling. In fact most of what he heard was a lot of wild speculation and hearsay. Nevertheless there was some dark and appalling news which only recently was reaching this part of their world. Apparently entire trods were being found slaughtered, and in grizzly ways that no hunter would dare to have imagined, for what kind of animal would take only their skins and leave the flesh behind for the scavengers to tear at? If the stories were true—if they weren’t in fact bald faced lies—then there was another kind of hunter loose on the plains, a hunter more ferocious, more bloodthirsty than even themselves. And these Iranha, it seemed, were hunting for them. But for now trod Yaryar was safe from the Iranha. Safe here, or so he steadfastly and stubbornly believed.
Grinding his teeth, Yaryar finally said, “You can’t be sure that the Iranha are here to stay. We have looked very carefully, all of us, searched everywhere and found no sign of them. Only you have seen their flying machines overhead.”
The Battle for Tomorrow (Ilon the Hunter) Page 1