The Battle for Tomorrow (Ilon the Hunter)

by Frederick Bell

  Then suddenly Ilon heard shrieks of terror, instantly followed by screams of death. A sharp movement caught his eye and he braced as an Iranha lumbered straight toward him. Clutching his spear, he fired at his running target, but not before the despicable creature got off a shot that was too close. Ilon screamed and dropped to the floor as the wall behind him exploded in a flash of light and color. He rose and brushed off the debris, seeing the smoking ruin, now an immense hole where the solid wall had once been. As he approached the dying creature it squirmed and made horrible noises that made his head hurt. Withdrawing his spear, he struck again, happy to see the end of it. Now there was one less Iranha in the world.

  After a thorough search of the whole complex Antayak returned with Sanbat and said, “All dead. None escaped us.”

  “Good. Go back outside and bring me wood,” he ordered. “We must destroy this place completely so that it can never be used for killing again.”

  While Ilon awaited their return he found the sealed doorway leading outside to the animal pen. Frustrated, he swore and kicked at it, but the door wouldn’t budge. In his desperation to free the trapped hunter, his mind returned to the burnt hole where the Iranha had shot its fire-stick. After retrieving the weapon he first studied it closely to see how it might work. He had a picture of it in his mind as he turned the barrel towards his face and peered at it with intense curiosity.

  The blast shattered the ceiling above him.

  Calming himself, this time he pointed the weapon and took aim. One burst from his gun was all he needed to bring the door down. “You are free hunter. Now come outside the walls of your prison and taste the sweetness of freedom.”

  She moved her body with pleasure and gratitude. “My name is Kykiris. I am grateful to be spared so terrible a fate, happy as well to see my captors deservedly dead. Are they all dead?”

  “These ones—but not all. We will never be rid of them all until this is so.”

  “That would be my greatest wish. If only to live until that day, to die seeing their end.”

  “My wish too,” Ilon said. He then told her of his hopes for the future.

  Antayak soon returned with an armload of thick branches. Sanbat, close behind him, squealed happily as she handed over her one stick to Ilon.

  “What is it that you are doing?” Kykiris asked him, now seeing that he was rubbing two sticks violently together.

  “Making fire,” Ilon puffed.

  “What is fire?” She did not have to wait long. Within moments there was smoke, then . . . “Fire!” Kykiris screamed, watching with astonishment as the wood pile caught and flamed up high.

  “Get more wood,” Ilon urgently commanded. “Hurry!”

  Soon the entire building was engulfed in flames and the hunters fled outside to escape. From a safe distance they watched with pleasure as the building collapsed under a great explosion of smoke and flames.

  “A happy day this has happened,” Kykiris said. “I marvel at your abilities, friend Ilon, and remember as I go what you have told me.”

  “Then you will speak of our future together with the other trods?”

  “You have my word. I promise. For this task I pledge my life.”

  They parted friends. As Ilon watched her go he knew that he had his first real convert. And what was the beginning of a new friendship, he hoped, was also the beginning of the end of the Iranha.

  Chapter Twenty Two

  “Destroyed!”

  Pulima Cos, her body quaking with rage, beat her fists on the shiny wet metal of her desk. So great was her anger that the messenger instantly recoiled in fear as she picked up her wet chair and hurled it as hard as she could at the wall. She could hardly speak, could barely move the air through her pores. When she reached the cowering messenger and seized him by his wattles of skin, only one important question needed to be asked.

  “How?”

  “By fire,” he blurted out, recounting the exact message given him so that he would get every word right. “An explosion of great magnitude that leveled the entire building, destroying it utterly and completely.”

  A financial disaster, Pulima Cos thought, her body slumping under the weight of this devastating news. When news of this event reached the other cities many important and influential people were going to be very displeased with her. Some might even demand a return of their investment. Now she could only worry and wait for the inevitable fallout that was sure to come.

  “Tell me what happened,” she ordered him, her next words even more demanding. “Explain every detail. I want to know everything.”

  “I—I do not know,” the messenger replied haltingly, wanting to please her with information but having nothing to tell her.

  “Then were there any witnesses, any survivors at all?”

  “Again, I do not know.”

  “You know nothing, stupid one!” Pulima Cos gestured annoyance. What she needed was accurate, first-hand information. Perhaps if she told him just how close he was to death then that might improve his memory. As she waddled across the floor there was an undulating swell of fat underneath her purple gown. “Who knows? Who sent you? Who is in charge of the investigation?”

  At last the messenger moved with comprehension, eager to speak his answer and be gone from her sight. “Why Poxiciti himself is looking into this matter.”

  Pulima Cos writhed at the very mention of his name. “He is there right now? You saw him?” When the messenger indicated he had, she fought to compose herself. “Why that ugly thing? Why him? What does he think he will find out there?”

  The messenger started to respond, only to be cut off by his own gasp when he realized that she was merely thinking her thoughts out loud. Fortunately she was too deep within herself to hear anything else but her own worries. He shrank back and awaited her next order.

  To Pulima Cos this could not have been worse news. If Poxiciti was on the case he would undoubtedly learn the truth and ruin everything. Better for her if she had never let him live. From that first day she seized power she should have killed him.In the shortest time he had become her greatest enemy, and every day he lived was another day to regret his existence.

  Not killing him when she had the chance was a critical mistake that might still yet bring her government down. One of her own now deservedly dead hahlok commanders had given him classified documents showing that city Tykrerek’s main generating station had failed several safety inspections and yet somehow continued to operate despite supposedly strict government regulations. Further investigation showed that several well-connected company officials managed to avoid a public inquiry by paying off the inspectors. In addition, their superior was given explicit orders to bury the reports in return for an undisclosed cash settlement. It was so scandalous an affair that Pulima Cos and her administration were still reeling from the exposure. New charges were still being laid, and there were fresh allegations that several of her top aides also received expensive gifts and interest free loans.

  Luckily for Poxiciti the people were still on his side. Pulima Cos tried to have him arrested, though his imprisonment sparked a revolt that very nearly toppled her government. Now her powers over him were limited, yet not so diminished that she still couldn’t reach out and crush him. She wanted that very much. His outspoken tirades on animal rights and environmental lies were turning many of her own supporters against her. What a pleasure it would be to see him dead. Already she was busy plotting his happy and much anticipated demise.

  After dismissing the messenger Pulima Cos sent for her attendant who promptly contacted Poxiciti. In the late afternoon he strutted into her office, his one good eye on her as he seated himself in a comfortable wet chair.

  “You summoned me here? Why?”

  She was not used to being questioned, yet she responded politely only because he was incredibly egotistical and might not tell her everything if she wasn’t at least gracious. “To question you of a disturbance early this morning in the Noxada sector.”

&nb
sp; “Out of whose big mouth did you hear that?”

  Snorting derisively she said, “Surely you, Poxiciti, must know that everything you do bears my closest scrutiny. Now—what can you report of this event?”

  “Not much. Had I been allowed to conduct my investigation uninterrupted then I might have more to tell you,” he huffed, indicating that his ordered presence was a great nuisance to his work. Despite this he managed to give a brief description of the event, then added discreetly, “The damage was rather extensive. There was little left on-site to salvage. However we did manage to retrieve something of significance from the rubble.”

  “What?”

  “An important piece of evidence, without which we could not have completed the puzzle.” Seeing her confused motions Poxiciti further clarified this point by telling her, “A surveillance camera was pulled intact from the ruins. I believe that when its contents are examined we will discover the nature of the building’s demolition—and even more importantly—the identities of those responsible for the felonious activities going on inside.”

  Pulima Cos squirmed uncomfortably. “I don’t understand.”

  “The building was an illegal facility being used to harvest segathars for skins. Also employing uncertified skinners and opportunists. Poachers!” Poxiciti said with all the vehemence he could muster.

  “Monsters who should be punished,” she quickly agreed and then carefully asked him, “Were any of these criminals apprehended and taken into custody?”

  “Unfortunately, no. But happily they had the deaths they deserved. The bodies we discovered were burnt beyond recognition. All were incinerated by the blast.”

  “And the cause of the explosion?”

  “Chemical. That kind of damage is indicative of orghalax, a popular yet highly combustible cleaning solvent.”

  “Then it was an accident of immense stupidity,” Pulima Cos quickly concluded, hoping to deflect any further discussion and bring about a swift resolution. “Some wicked poachers are dead, and their facility rightfully destroyed. No doubt an immense victory for you and your followers. Now this whole sordid affair can be turned over to the district prosecutors, and I, happy to hear the end of it.”

  “I think not.” Poxiciti then spoke with a firmness and resolve that made clear his intent. “This neat solution that you so readily and speedily advocate clearly smacks of a cover-up. No sooner had I given you this evidence would it have disappeared—and probably those of any knowledge along with it.”

  How he hated and despised her. Just seeing her made him want to kill her. He had unhappy memories of the past. As part of her austerity measures she had purged her new administration of males, replacing them with female conspirators and profiteers, anyone who supported the ecological rape of the planet. Political opponents were arbitrarily arrested and thrown into jail, or worse, disappeared. Environmentalists were kidnapped, then only to be found tortured and murdered. It was a very bad time.

  But the dark days were behind them and the light of the future was shining up ahead. Activists were now rallying against her, the opposition was speaking out again. Pulima Cos’s impervious armor was beginning to rust.

  “There is working within your government an organization of complicity and corruption, one I believe that starts at the bottom and climbs to the very top.”

  But she repudiated his charge totally and absolutely. “Ridiculous. How can you make so absurd an allegation?”

  Producing a piece of selp paper he proceeded to unfold it in front of her. “To operate this large a facility so close to the city requires the protection and financial backing of some powerful people. Traders, merchants, city officials. I wonder if Midlothian herself might know of its existence.”

  Pulima Cos could no longer sit still. She rose from her chair and paced the floor nervously. When Poxiciti handed her the paper she first looked it over with trepidation then strongly rejected it by crumpling it up and saying, “This proves nothing.”

  “Hardly that. According to those figures your own Tomauk is demanding a hefty salary for supplying soldiers to an undisclosed station outside of her city. Yet apparently this damning bit of information was retrieved from within the destroyed walls of the building.”

  “So now I see your insidious plan. That is to tear down my government with your fabricated evidence and untruths.”

  Poxiciti laughed hysterically. “Your ability to deceive is as inflated as your brains. You might address yourself to the real truth, and that is, while you conduct these nefarious activities and shady dealings, I come closer each day. The animals you slaughter are gone but your slime remains, a trail that if I follow will inevitably lead me straight to you.”

  “Get out!” Pulima Cos roared. “Get out of here!”

  He had struck too close this time, and she believed that he could strike even closer. He would learn the darkest truth of which she shared the greatest part. Favors would have to be bought. And it would be very costly, Pulima Cos knew, though she was desperate to eradicate every shred of evidence which might condemn her. When Poxiciti was far removed from her sight she summoned her closest aides. What she needed was a diversion.

  Chapter Twenty Three

  His visit to city Anaxerxes was brief but decisive. Poxiciti knew the risks of such an encounter, but to see her corpulent bulk shaking with fear was pleasure among pleasures. Certainly he had wounded her. Now as he returned to his own city he looked forward to any new revelations that might deliver the final killing blow.

  Under a dark, heavy sky, Poxiciti exited the shuttle and forged on through the blowing wind toward the main terminal. He made a wide track in the accumulating sand. Guards escorted him inside where he shook himself off and waited for the next transport to arrive.

  Outside the storm was worsening, the wind hurling the sand against the windows with unrelenting fury. During this onslaught a bolt of lightning crackled across the sky, and the room suddenly blackened. Inside there was a lot of confusion, everyone was shouting, but none louder than Poxiciti who spoke with authority while those around him scrambled to do his bidding. Despite their best efforts those who labored under his direction were unable to restore the power, and so he sat down in the darkness and brooded. It was a frustrating end to his day and he was greatly displeased with this time-consuming delay.

  Finally a passenger vehicle pulled up alongside the building and signaled. Poxiciti barely had time to open the door when Inelefar leaned over the driver’s seat and shouted into his auditory hole.

  “Came as soon as I could,” he gasped breathlessly. “So much has happened since this morning.” He seized Poxiciti’s arm. He could scarcely contain his excitement. “We have to get back to the city.” Poxiciti eagerly climbed aboard and awaited his stunning news.

  “Then you have found incriminating evidence against Pulima Cos and her band of cut-throats?”

  “Not exactly,” Inelefar hummed as he pressed on the accelerator and sped off toward the city. “Something even more important.”

  He stared at him incredulously. “More important than seeing our arch-enemy and her army of polluters and profiteers eradicated? More important than overthrowing her corrupt and evil empire? I doubt that. Explanation of facts. What exactly did you find?”

  “A discovery of incredible significance,” Inelefar hinted without the slightest betrayal of information. “Evidence of a kind that will not be believed.”

  Now Poxiciti was more than puzzled. What could he mean? Inelefar was a good assistant but proved himself a worthless communicator. To pry information from him required the strictest attention, the greatest of patience. Poxiciti sincerely doubted that he would learn anything until they reached the city.

  A small crowd was waiting for them inside the auditorium, an expansive room decorated with ornate marble columns and gold and onyx inlaid floors. Plush wet chairs lined the three main aisles, arranged in a semi-circle so that each occupant had a clear sight of the enormous view screen. As Poxiciti entered the room
the onlookers immediately quieted down.

  “So what is this momentous news that I still know nothing about?” he said after seating himself in a front row chair. An echo of silence was his only answer. Then a voice that he recognized rose behind him.

  “A matter so vital to our future that I instructed Inelefar to tell no one, lest word of this reach the wrong people.” Borobos, a solid and strong female, rose from her chair and thudded to the front of the room. A bio-genetic engineer, now a staunch environmentalist, she wore her scars like an emblem of pain, attesting to her years of torture and imprisonment in one of Midlothian’s many jails. Indeed she was a creature of stature and political sway, having contacts that some said reached into Pulima Cos’s closest circle.

  “Tried to contact you in the city,” Borobos apologized. “The storm was intense. . .”

  “Understood.” Poxiciti quickly dismissed it; he was more impatient for answers.

  “The video we extracted today. Your conclusions proved correct,” Borobos continued. “They were operating an illegal processing and distribution center. Had it not been destroyed it might well have soon emptied the forest of segathars.”

  This was especially good news to her listeners. Naturally everyone was pleased to hear of its end, delighted that every block and beam had been pulled down, although unhappily, Borobos reminded them that just as quickly as that one had been destroyed, another one would soon replace it.

  Looking around the room Poxiciti saw all of the angry faces. Borobos elicited more hot emotion than rational thinking and that was not the way to see behind their problems. “Did you find any condemning evidence?”

  “Some,” she answered. “Solid and indisputable proof linking three of the dead to Oneteesel, a key trader from city Tykrerek.”