Endurance

by Richard Chizmar

  “Reever did not kidnap me. The Garnotans are not artists, Cherijo. There is no artists’ colony on that world.” All around its neck, silvery fur rose. “They are slavers.”

  “What?” I got to my feet. “Alunthri, I went down there. I saw those people. They were all … they weren’t really artists?”

  “I am sorry to say they are not. Their pretense draws the unsuspecting to the planet. It’s all a sham. Garnot is a slaver-depot. Just like this one.” Alunthri bared its teeth in a silent snarl. “They had me chained and in a holding pit before the Sunlace left orbit. One of them said I would fetch a good price from Chakaran traders.”

  “I left you there. I should have checked that place out more thoroughly, damn it.” My brow furrowed. “So Reever … what, bought you?”

  “I do not know if credits were exchanged. Hsktskt centurons removed me from the slave pits and brought me directly to Joren and the Perpetua. By the time we arrived, Reever and the Hsktskt had gained control of the League fleet.”

  Which I’d helped them do. Willingly. Cheerfully.

  “You carry much blame for the actions of others, Cherijo. What happened to me on Garnot is not your fault. Nor is the betrayal of someone you thought a friend.”

  “I have no friends, except you.” I laughed bitterly. “Isn’t that awful? But it’s true. I can’t trust anyone. Not Reever, not Noarr.” I wiped the last traces of tears from my face as Reever walked through the door panel. “A blinding example of my own lousy judgment.”

  “I beg your pardon?” Reever said.

  “Never mind.” I got up and trudged over to my sleeping platform. “Alunthri is staying with us tonight.” I glanced back at the big cat. “You don’t mind sleeping on the sofa, do you?”

  It knew I didn’t want to be alone with Reever now. “Not at all, Cherijo.”

  I silently cried myself to sleep that night, and several nights following that. Reever made a few comments, but otherwise left me alone. Noarr didn’t attempt to make contact. The moment he did, I was going to add a few more swirls to that face of his.

  Everything seemed to decelerate to slow motion as we waited for the Jorenian/Aksellan forces to reach Catopsa. The days dragged while the tension mounted. Prisoners avoided congregating in groups to prevent the guards from overhearing any plans being made. We simply had to hold on until help arrived.

  Someone got suspicious anyway.

  I was summoned by FurreVa early one morning to slave tier six, where she and her guards had started making a surprise inspection of the prisoner chambers. I found her standing in front of an access door that had been smashed. Shards peppered the floor around her.

  For a moment, I simply stared. What had happened to the quasi-quartz to make it break like this? No one had been able to make a scratch on it for months. None of the Hsktskt had any unusual devices or weapons. Then I saw black streaks running through the bits all around my feet, and peered into the tunnel.

  The black growths were gone. They’d somehow gotten into the walls.

  “We discovered this passage. What is it?” FurreVa asked me.

  “I have no idea.” I looked as confused as I felt. “What broke the wall?”

  “Her.” FurreVa pointed to a large, muscular female prisoner being held by three centurons. “And him.” An injured centuron lay on his side, clutching a certain vulnerable portion of his anatomy. Dozens of transparent shards gleamed, imbedded in the thick scales along his outer arm.

  I seized on the medical problem to avoid dealing with more questions about the crystal. “Let me get him to the infirmary.”

  TssVar ordered his centurons to search the entire compound, of course. Once I’d finished removing the quasi-quartz from the injured guard’s hide, I was summoned to accompany one of the teams sweeping the tiers for more hidden passageways.

  I didn’t want to go. Didn’t want to find the Hsktskt dragging Noarr out of some hidden corner. I ended up on Reever’s team, which only made things worse. He positioned himself at my side and watched my every movement. Keeping up a bland, indifferent expression while I watched the guards smash their weapon butts into the prison walls was a real challenge.

  FurreVa’s team joined ours. Then GothVar and his squad. No one looked very happy to see each other. Something bad was going to happen. Really bad. I could feel it, like a palpable force, tightening around me.

  Another tunnel was exposed, right in front of my eyes. I spotted the barely noticeable dark veins, and tried not to react. The centuron must have noticed them, too. He heaved the end of his rifle into the center of the thinly webbed surface. The mirrored panel didn’t crack. It shattered, spilling tiny, black-shot shards all around our feet. Centurons disappeared into the small tunnel, searching for concealed prisoners.

  Reever stared at me. I shook some shards from the top of my footgear and didn’t return the favor. GothVar trudged over and planted himself in front of me.

  “She knew about this,” he said, stroking the pulse rifle’s trigger with two claws.

  “You think so?” I gave him a thin smile. “Prove it.”

  The centurons called to Reever from the tunnel, and he gave me a final glare before stepping through the entrance. A moment later, he came out and beckoned to me. “Cherijo, I need you to look at this.”

  Was it Noarr? My bruised heart turned over in my chest. Was he hurt, had someone—“Right. Coming.”

  Reever disappeared into the dark ahead of me. More veins laced the inner tunnel surfaces, creating shadows that thickened several feet in until they solidified to form an impenetrable expanse of solid black. With all the light gone, I felt my way by walking with one hand against a wall. A centuron outlined in the frame of another shattered access door curled a limb toward me, and I headed in his direction.

  The tunnel emptied out into an equipment storage area, and a strange sense of déjà vu swept over me when I saw Reever kneeling next to something small and white.

  Suddenly I flashed back to the incident on the Perpetua. Level eighteen. The sharp, poisonous smell of ammonia. A lump of what appeared to be melted chalk.

  I slowly removed my scanner, passed it over the residue, and recited the readings. “Hydrogen, oxygen, nitrogen, calcium, and phosphorous. Minute amounts of deoxyribonucleic acid.”

  Reever sent the bulk of the guards on to continue their sweep. “The same as we found on the Perpetua.”

  GothVar came over to peer at the remains. “It is filth, nothing more.”

  “No, OverCenturon.” I deactivated the instrument. “This was a person.”

  “So was this.” FurreVa entered the chamber, carrying the partial remains of another prisoner, and placed them next to the skeletal residue. What she’d brought in was gruesome, only a portion of a torso and one limb. It was bundled in a transparent material of a type I hadn’t seen before. “I found it in an adjoining compartment.”

  GothVar stepped aside, as if offended by the sight of the bundle.

  I unwrapped the material and examined the bloodless remains. “This appears to have been a female Tingalean.” I bent closer to study the unusual striations on what was left of her right lower appendage. “She was dismembered, but not very efficiently. These look like gnaw marks.” I glanced up at GothVar as I carefully replaced the material. Interesting, the way he’d reacted to the corpse. Wonder why?

  “There are dozens more like this.” FurreVa hitched her weapon up on one shoulder. “All dead. All escaped prisoners, from the look of them.”

  “They didn’t escape far. The pattern of the wounds suggests a large, sharp-toothed assailant.” I turned to Reever. “I’ll have to do a postmortem to be positive, OverMaster, but from the marks I’d say one of your friends here got hungry. And this”—I indicated the chalky pile—”is what couldn’t be digested.”

  “Hsktskt no longer consume lesser-evolved beings,” FurreVa said, her gruff voice almost soft and thoughtful. She wasn’t talking to me, I saw. She kept her gaze fixed on GothVar.

  “I
’ve heard plenty of Hsktskt threaten to eat prisoners,” I said, even as I realized I’d never seen a Hsktskt eat anything, other than the synthesized glop FurreVa had fed her brood.

  “We threaten, yes. Perpetuating your ignorant assumptions provides an excellent means of control.” FurreVa took a step toward GothVar. “No Hsktskt would in fact devour a live being. That would violate Faction law.”

  “Someone violated it. I need to see where you found them, FurreVa. With that many bodies, I’ll have plenty of saliva traces to identify who killed these prisoners.”

  But I already knew.

  I went still as an odd sound rushed in my ears. The sound of a low, monstrous voice …

  For a moment, I was back in the launch bay on the Perpetua, my arm being gouged by the thresher. He had come up behind me. He had told me what he planned to do to me.

  “I will take you on the tiers, Terran. Piece by piece, I will devour you. A small part of you each time. First your fingers … then your ears….”

  He had told me exactly how he’d planned to eat me. I hitched in a breath at the thought of what these poor beings had suffered, then swiveled around slowly and stared at the one responsible for doing it.

  GothVar must have realized I’d remembered, for he chose that moment to go completely insane.

  “Move against the wall.” He gestured to two of the centurons who tended to hang around him, and the trio leveled their weapons at me, Reever, and FurreVa. Reever and I slowly backed against the specified wall. The big female stood her ground and hissed with what I could only call satisfaction.

  “At last, you rankless son of a worm. I have you in violation.”

  GothVar lifted the rifle and pointed it directly at her face. “Your new visage will not be so easy to repair this time.”

  “He did this to you?” I asked FurreVa, hoping to distract FlatHead long enough for someone to do something.

  “Tell her,” GothVar said. “It does not matter if they know. None of you will leave here alive.”

  “This worm”—FurreVa took great pleasure in enunciating that—“attacked me while we were on a planetary raid. He wanted my position, and sought to take it.”

  I looked at her once-distorted face, then GothVar’s oddly sloped brow. “You did this to each other by fighting over how much junk is on your uniforms?”

  “I would be interested in hearing more on this.”

  TssVar and several heavily armed guards came into the storage area, which abruptly got rather crowded. There wasn’t even a question of a fight this time; GothVar and his cronies lowered their weapons and were swiftly disarmed.

  “OverLord.” FurreVa made her report about the bodies she’d discovered, and implicated GothVar and his two pals as the perpetrators. “Dr. Torin believes she will have enough evidence to prove their guilt.”

  “I claim reprieve as brood sire,” GothVar said at once.

  “Indeed.” TssVar turned to gaze at the OverCenturon. “You claim it now, yet you are not joined.”

  “I’m definitely not following this,” I said to Reever.

  “Hsktskt males can assume the higher rank of a female, if they join in a unity ritual. The female is reduced to the rank of Nurturer until she delivers her brood.”

  “Yes, but OverSeer FurreVa refused to join with me.” GothVar’s tongue flickered rapidly. “Thus I persuaded her to cooperate.”

  “He rendered me unconscious so he could sire my brood,” the Hsktskt female said. “When he told me what he had done, I refused the union. That is when he did this.” She touched her reconstructed face.

  “Why didn’t you tell someone?” I demanded.

  “As soon as my superiors discovered my state, GothVar and I would have been required by law to join.” FurreVa lifted her head, and her eyes resembled small, raging suns. “I preferred to be executed.”

  “You are still required by Faction law to join with me. I offer it to you again,” FaltHead said, as though conferring a great honor.

  TssVar hit him then, driving him back into a cluster of console units. “She does not accept. Once it is proven you violated Faction law by devouring these prisoners, you will be executed.”

  “As sire of her brood, you cannot execute me, no matter what my crime is. I claim sire’s amnesty.”

  “So be it,” TssVar said.

  “Wait.” I looked from Reever to TssVar. “Let me understand this correctly. FlatHead beat and raped FurreVa, in order to take over her rank and force her to marry him. She refused, he tried to murder her. He didn’t succeed. She’s had to hide her pregnancy, avoid him, and wait all this time to nail him for some other violation of your laws. But when she finds out that he and his friends have been snacking on prisoners, he says he wants to get married and play Daddy, and you’re saying you can’t kill him because of that?”

  “In a sense, yes, that is correct.”

  “And she still has to marry him?” FurreVa hissed. TssVar nodded. I held out a hand. “I can solve this problem. Give me one of those rifles.”

  “There is an alternative, brother.” Reever stepped forward to tug me away from the OverLord. “I remind you of the sire’s right of protection.”

  GothVar sneered. “TssVar did not sire this female.”

  If TssVar could have smiled, his lipless mouth would have stretched from brow ridge to brow ridge. “You forget, OverCenturon. We are at war with the Allied League of Worlds.”

  FurreVa gaped for a moment, then performed a low, respectful bow. “I am honored, OverLord.”

  GothVar, on the other hand, said nothing, but suddenly seemed to be shrinking a few inches.

  “Escort them to the arena,” TssVar said to his guards, then watched them depart. “Doctor, I will need that forensic evidence immediately.” He walked out, and FurreVa followed.

  “They lost me again,” I said to Reever.

  “TssVar claims a sire’s prerogative—to defend his female young from a rank challenger. Something he can do only in wartime.”

  “Why only then?”

  “Mobilization during military conflict prevents FurreVa from returning to the homeworld and petitioning her sire to defend her. As her commander, TssVar may act in loco parentis and will fight GothVar for the right of protection over FurreVa.”

  Which meant one or both of them was going to need my services immediately thereafter.

  I had to transport the remains of thirty-seven dead prisoners to the infirmary, where I set up a temporary morgue. I performed five scans before I found enough DNA evidence to convict GothVar and the other two guards of Faction law violation. When I signaled the same to Command, TssVar ordered me to report to the arena.

  “I don’t want to watch,” I said. “I’ve got thirty-one more autopsies to perform.”

  “FurreVa has no comrades. No one to stand as witness.” The OverLord studied me for a moment. “Except you.”

  “All right, all right.” He certainly knew what buttons to push. “I’m on the way.”

  Every Hsktskt who could be spared entered the arena to watch the OverLord defend FurreVa’s honor. I managed to stay back out of the way, until Reever saw me and made me squeeze through to the front of the crowd.

  “I really, really don’t want to see this,” I told him.

  “FurreVa—”

  “I know. FurreVa needs a pal.” I saw the big female standing beside the quad, looking distinctly isolated. No one came near her—probably another weird taboo of theirs—so I inched my way in her direction. When I got there, I saw the fine tremors of rage and worry running through her limbs.

  “Hi.” I took position at her side and studied the gore-spattered panels in front of us. “Should we get some popcorn?”

  She turned to me. “Some what?”

  “Popcorn. It’s what Terrans eat when they watch holofilms. Sort of goes along with entertainment.”

  “I think not.” Her perfectly proportioned head swung back toward the quad. “Even now, you seem determined to provoke me.”
/>   “No. I’m determined to be your friend.”

  “You are Terran. I am Hsktskt. We should not be friends.”

  “Shouldn’t we?” I saw the crowd part on either side of the arena. “Here comes the main event.”

  TssVar and GothVar entered the quad. Both were stripped down to minimal garments and displayed fairly awesome physiques. As far as size went, TssVar held the advantage, but GothVar had more bulk. It looked to be a fairly even match.

  The crowd fell silent as TssVar stepped into the center of the quad and held up two of his limbs.

  “My people. I come here defending OverSeer FurreVa, with sire’s right of protection.” He turned to indicate GothVar. “This male has violated her, attempted to kill her, and now tries to force unity. He is a coward, undeserving of the honor of brood-sire’s rights.”

  Now it was FlatHead’s turn. “My comrades. I have but wished to join with my mate. She has delivered the brood I sired. By law she is to be mine. OverLord TssVar claims sire’s right when none is necessary. She will be mine.”

  “Now they beat each other’s brains out?” I murmured to FurreVa.

  “Yes.”

  And with no further speeches or ceremony, that’s what they did. I’d seen hand-to-hand combat before, even participated in some myself. It paled in comparison to this.

  Hsktskt use all their limbs in the quad—upper, lower, and even their prehensile tail appendages. The results ranged from bone-cracking grappling holds to violent impacts of limbs into torsos and heads. TssVar sent GothVar sprawling to the surface of the quad over and over. GothVar ripped huge gouges in TssVar’s hide.

  The blood and brutality made me sick. “How long will they keep this up?” I yelled to FurreVa over the shouts of the crowd.

  She never took her eyes from the quad. “Until one of them dies.”

  For a short time I thought that might be TssVar. FlatHead sank his teeth into one of the OverLord’s upper limbs and held on, tearing and pulling at the joint until with a horrible cry TssVar went down.

  The limb, however, stayed in GothVar’s mouth until he removed it and threw it from the ring.