by Scott Moon
The mortality rate during Reaper birth was high, which should be expected. Mothers often ate their young, but the young sometimes ate their mothers. He had seen it and been horrified but came to know it was their nature and nothing more. He didn’t understand why they needed to feel the terror of their victims or why they had been made to be pure killing machines.
There probably was a reason. Kin forced himself to remember that there was a good chance the Reaper had never thought to mate with her. He had no evidence such a thing had happened and dared not ask her.
“Rickson, if I run into the night without warning, take Clavender as quickly as you can to Crater Town. Don’t try to help me,” Kin said. “We’ll need to track the Reaper until we know where he is. It’s dangerous, but the only way.”
Rickson nodded. “I’m no expert, but tracking something that’s hunting us shouldn’t be difficult.”
“It’ll be as easy as jumping off a cliff,” Kin said.
Rickson laughed awkwardly. Lack of sleep showed on his face and he was tense. Clavender moved to his side and touched his hand. He blushed and stood as straight as he could manage.
Kin led the way across the open ground, kneeling frequently to search for tracks. He smelled the soil, pinched it between his fingers, but didn’t taste it as Bear would have. Many animals had come this way during the night, probably running from the Reaper. Kin chose a course that came near the water but not too near. The Reaper would hunt wherever game existed but wouldn’t swim unless there was no choice. He found Droon’s trail and quickly lost it.
“Stop,” Kin said. “He is circling to our back trail.”
“Why would he do that? He could just attack. We have nowhere to run,” Rickson said.
“Don’t worry until you hear him wail. Then it’ll be time to move out,” Kin said, listening to the wind.
Kin wanted to change course but saw an injured hopper bird and decided to investigate. He didn’t want bad news from Laura but needed it. There was no use walking into a Fleet ambush. Orlan would be gunning for him and Kin hadn’t forgotten about Lieutenant Raker. The intelligence officer would want to interrogate him, and when that was done, he would probably want him dissected and his organs placed in stasis jars.
Kin couldn’t fight Fleet troopers in full battle gear at the same time he fought a Reaper who either was in Bloodlust or soon would be. Mating made Reapers crazy and if this one hadn’t mated, it surely wanted to, which made Kin glad there were no Reaper females around. The sight of Reapers in heat was a savage thing.
Droon had already done things no normal Reaper would, like carry Clavender without taking a single bite. He had also bonded with a Clinger. Kin took a deep breath and released it.
There were several slips of paper tied to each of the hopper bird’s legs. It was no wonder it had been attacked as it floundered under the unusual weight. The paper was thin and fragile, but every ounce was an extra burden for such a small creature. Kin snatched the note from the bird and was about to put the poor creature out of its misery when it scampered away. He watched it for a moment, then read the note.
I am angry with you, Kin. There will be consequences. Why have you not told me of all your women? I thought we had something special, the gentle way we touch and the way you hold me without bondage. Always with love, Laura.
Kin held the note at arm’s length to see if he had read it wrong. He pondered the note and put it away. He had no doubt she was angry and understood what she usually meant by consequences but hadn’t believed she knew how to spell love. Gentle was in their relationship’s vocabulary, but was a seasonal thing at best.
He opened the next note and struggled to decipher the cramped writing.
Why do you not respond? Have you been injured? I know that troopers like you recover quickly and are back in the field fighting and hunting with a vengeance.
Laura never wrote like this. She had sent intimate messages before, but they were dirty and direct. Kin, meet me by the lighthouse so we can fuck. I’m going to hurt you. She was trying to warn him about Orlan — that was clear. The man had recovered and was being put back in the field, which probably meant he had been sent to hunt both Kin and the Reaper. Commander Westwood and Captain Zelig considered Orlan an expert on each. What Kin didn’t understand were the references to gentle romance and consequences. He supposed the false sweetness could be a warning to treat the message, or at least part of it, opposite of what the words said. He read the third note.
Commander Westwood must disassemble his ships to build atmosphere boosters. We shelter inside biospheres most of the day. He does not believe our witch can do anything.
Kin found himself looking in the direction of Crater Town, wondering how bad it could be there. Atmosphere boosters had long been discredited. Terra-forming only worked on planets that were generally headed in the right direction already and was never attempted unless the planet or moon was small. Significantly changing the atmosphere of Crashdown would be less effective than trying to heat the ocean with a candle.
He assumed the coast was being hit by a toxic cloud from the north, but the theory didn’t satisfy him. Commander Westwood was a seasoned campaigner who had fought on every class of world known to Earth Fleet. He should know the difference. Kin opened the fourth note without looking at it immediately. When he did, he nearly bit off his tongue.
I took care of Becca for you, traitor. Come and kiss my ass and I might give you a lock of her hair.
The handwriting wasn’t Laura’s, but it was beautiful. The letters had been formed with artistry and grace, exactly as he remembered Orlan’s style. Kin looked for the bird, but it was gone. Now he understood how the hopper bird had been injured. Orlan intercepted the messenger and added his own words. Kin turned the paper over and saw Laura’s original message.
You deserve her love. (But I will still do you when she isn’t looking.)
Kin’s anger faltered because Laura’s last message made less sense than the rest of it. Did she think he was in love with Clavender? She should know better. Clavender was beautiful and kind, but Kin had been her friend a long time and he thought Laura had overcome her jealousy. He massaged his temples and fought back exhaustion.
“What do the messages say?” Rickson asked.
Kin looked at him, then at Clavender. “They’re having problems with the weather. The Fleet troopers are tearing apart ships to build a refuge. If they intended to stay, I’d think they were converting warships into terra-forming machines.”
“But they aren’t staying,” Rickson said.
“I get the feeling they want to be gone yesterday,” Kin said.
Clavender moved close to Kin and touched him. She slipped her arm around his waist and put her head on his shoulder as she was prone to do. Her skin was hot and she leaned on him more than normal.
“You cannot keep him from taking me.” She cried, but Kin also heard a guttural noise that reminded him of the Reaper. She was awake, but Droon was close enough to press into her subconscious. Kin examined the bite wounds. The flesh around the lacerations was purple and healing slowly.
“We are going to move fast, Rickson,” Kin said. He took Clavender by the hand, not because she needed help, but because he feared she would try to escape. They ran as often as they walked and Droon seemed to be behind them, in front of them, and on both sides each time Kin changed course.
“Kin,” Clavender said.
He stopped and watched her face, trying to detect a fit caused by Reaper venom.
“I want to go home,” she said. She converted her sadness into a smile and lifted her gaze to meet his.
“When this is over, I’ll take you.”
“No you won’t,” she said. “Can we rest here? We should talk while my head is clear.”
Kin found a place for Clavender to sit and told Rickson to climb a large boulder and keep watch.
“When I was young, I controlled the wormhole easily and visited many places. I brought pretty things home, th
ings that tasted good, people I found amusing. This displeased my father, but he did not stop me from wandering,” Clavender said.
“Why tell me this now?”
“Because I know of the Imperials of which your Fleet warriors speak. I know that they conquer worlds and impress people and creatures into their army.” She paused, giving Kin a chance to interrupt, but he didn’t.
“I found an army of Imperials being destroyed and pulled them through the wormhole. That was one crime my father could not forgive. My people knew nothing of war. The people you call Imperials shared many good things with us, but they also taught us war and violence. Paradise was broken and my father and his warriors wanted to punish and destroy them. I was still a young girl at the time, by the standard of my kind, and I fooled the Imperials and my people.
“As the warriors of the Ror-Rea massed, I convinced the Imperials they could win a great victory if they gathered at a certain place at a certain time. When they arrived, I flung them through the wormhole to the farthest part of the galaxy where they could wage war constantly. Of all the places I have seen, this part of the galaxy is the worst — constant war, terrible creatures, and murderous armies. I knew it would be almost impossible for the Imperials to fight across the galaxy to my people.”
“The story you’re telling would take eons,” Kin said. He’d participated in planet-hopping campaigns early in his career and understood the cost in lives and equipment. He also knew an army fighting for ages to escape the war torn corner of the galaxy Clavender described would change each generation. They would live for war and understand nothing else.
She smiled and touched his face with her soft hand. “After I came to the coast and found the people here, I created a ring around the area to keep my people away, but also to keep people from Crater Town from finding the Ror-Rea.”
Kin evaluated every word she said and her body language. “Are you telling me the storms, monsters, and earthquakes are your doing — that we could live in peace if not for your feud with your father?”
“I did not say that. My people still wish for me to send them through the wormhole to destroy the people they feel ruined the Ror-Rea, but I have refused. Warriors of the Ror-Rea gather once a year and attempt to fly to the wormhole and force their way through. It is foolish because they do not understand that most of the openings are in the void of space.”
“You told me about the young warriors trying for the wormhole, but why are you telling me the rest now?”
She waited a long time before answering. “A man came to see me after your Fleet landed.”
“What was his name?” Kin asked, although he already knew.
“Raker. He asked questions and I lied. He knew much of the Imperials, and that is why I call them thus. In my language, they are called the Mazz. The Clingers are their creation and what drove my people to war,” Clavender said. “The Mazz subdued the monsters and used them as weapons. Many kinds of men and beasts have suffered a similar fate. The Mazz, the Imperials, would do the same to my people and yours.”
Kin heard what she said but was thinking of Droon and his Clinger armor being turned into a weapon to attack the Fleet. “Rest. I need to scout this area before we go.”
The decision to continue at night was the hardest decision Kin made during the entire journey. He’d pushed Rickson and Clavender hard across the canyon floor, wanting to reach shelter before darkness fell. The canyon was deceptively rugged. From a distance, it looked smooth, but there were loose rocks on every path. Stone outcroppings frequently concealed mazes and other dangerous places for ambush. Every stream and river presented tactical problems. Kin could imagine Droon rising from the mud, shaking off his camouflage like a Special Forces commando who understood Kin’s best tactics.
Dancing with Droon was dangerous at night. The Reaper was too fast, too strong, and could see in the dark. Kin faced the added difficulty of keeping his weary band together. He had to watch Clavender carefully and Rickson had to be kept close as well. This prevented them from spreading out. The Reaper would be able to find them in one place and pick his target. The midnight sojourn was foolhardy, but Clavender couldn’t wait. They had to reach Crater Town before she succumbed to the spell of the Reaper.
“She’s getting tired, Kin.” Rickson removed his travel cloak and wrapped it around her. The boy looked skinnier than usual, shivering in the cold night air.
Kin watched the scene and realized Rickson was deeply, hopelessly in love with Clavender.
She walked with the grace of a princess. Her arms hung at her side and swayed as her body moved to the rhythm of her stride. Moonshine and wormhole light reflected from her skin. Head held high, eyelids partially closed, she looked not so much as a woman hunted as a lover who dreamed of forbidden romance. Her brilliant white wings flared slightly from time to time.
“Come back to us, Clavender,” Kin said.
She looked over her shoulder and smiled.
“He is calling me,” she said.
“Wake up, Clavender. Stay with us,” Kin said.
“I am awake. I do not fear. The pain is gone because he needs me,” she said with the look of a person who had been given a heavy narcotic after suffering a serious injury.
Kin shuddered. Her face had been a mask of pain.
“I can heal him,” Clavender spoke, but her words seemed like private thoughts, directed at neither Kin nor Rickson.
Kin understood Clavender had the heart of a healer and couldn’t turn away from a creature that suffered. This was a bad time for her to show her true nature. He searched the shadows for the glowing eyes of Droon, knowing that the Reaper would have them closed to slits to prevent the reflection of moonlight.
“Is he there?” Rickson asked, gripping the staff and staring wide eyed into the night.
Kin shook his head. “I don’t know.”
CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE
THE glow of Crater Town promised salvation, but Kin understood they were farther from town and the Fleet than it seemed. He lost count of how many valleys and winding mountain trails they traversed.
Each day was long and arduous. He fantasized of stealing Fleet armor but didn’t dare. An FSPAA unit wouldn’t function without the codes. And even if he had the codes, the units could transmit suspicious DNA profiles to Command. The Fleet designed the procedure to keep aliens from stealing technology, but the reason didn’t matter. All he needed was the FSPAA attempting to confirm his DNA and revealing him as the Traitor of Hellsbreach.
He’d need someone in the Fleet to cancel the computer alerts before powering the FSPAA unit. With Fleet armor, he’d be able to carry Clavender no matter how hard she fought him.
He was more likely to travel back in time than have such a gift handed to him.
“I cannot,” Clavender groaned. “He is too far away. Let me go!”
“Walk,” Rickson said, pulling her by the arm. Exhaustion showed and his voice revealed desperation. “You have to walk. I can’t carry you anymore.”
“Save your strength,” Kin said. “The Reaper will catch us. She’ll change her mind when he attacks.”
Minutes later, Clavender’s expression transformed. Kin instantly knew Droon had closed the distance they had fought so hard to obtain. He longed for the sight of Captain Raien and her company of looters — anyone with weapons, anyone crazy enough to take on a Reaper.
He pulled Clavender up and spoke in a low, calming voice. “Tell me about your father while we walk. It will take your mind off the Reaper.”
“Why is she like this?” Rickson asked.
“Toxins build in her blood the longer they’re apart. On Hellsbreach, Fleet scientists claimed female Reapers infect their mates with a virus, compelling them to stay and protect the mother and child during birth,” Kin said. “I never believed it, because I saw Reapers eating their young more than once. It’s more likely Droon poisoned her and his venom is also the antidote.”
“Why would he do that?”
“S
o he can hunt and terrorize his victim without the risk of her escaping.” Kin almost restrained himself from saying what came next, but the words left his mouth and couldn’t be taken back. “Their mating rituals are indistinguishable from their hunting rituals.”
Clavender stared at him wide eyed and hugged herself. Apparently, she was just as capable of fear as anyone. Few people remained sane after being a Reaper captive.
Kin could only guess what she had endured. He regretted the words. He was tired and making too many mistakes. His feet hurt. His stomach pitched and roiled from hunger.
“Am I poisoned?” she asked.
“What do you remember?”
She looked away. Kin saw her shame. There was a lot she wasn’t telling him.
“Where was he taking you?” Kin asked.
Without looking at him, she said, “He claimed he was taking me to a birthing pit.”
Rickson blushed and let out a breath he had been holding. He gripped his staff, twin expressions of anger and betrayal on his face.
Kin put one hand on the boy before returning his attention to Clavender. “The birthing pits are used for many things. When I was a captive, they put me in one to heal me.”
Tears ran from Clavender’s eyes. “I do not remember everything the Reaper said or did. The ordeal was a nightmare and I do not know when I was asleep or awake.” Clavender held herself tightly.
Kin had no reassurance to offer. He’d survived their cruel medical care and had seen Reaper women give birth. He had also seen Reapers tearing their young out of their wombs because the Fleet was coming and there was no time for a proper birth. Some of the mothers survived long enough to be gunned down and run over by Tanks. The Reaper babies had been tossed aside where they crawled into holes like humanoid lizards.
“We need to move as soon as we can. When he’s about to attack, he won’t worry about controlling your mind. I’ll keep him busy, and the two of you have to run.”
“Why don’t you just kill it?” Rickson asked, frustrated.