by Philip Hamm
Narikin froze and had to swallow several times, fighting the urge to vomit. He saw the head several feet away and closed his eyes for a moment.
Kruvak continued walking towards the nearest hut. “I’m going to take a closer look inside – you don’t have to come if you don’t want to.”
Narikin didn’t want to be left alone so followed without replying. In the doorway was another skeleton. There was still some skin and long prickles instead of hair partially covering the skull. Kruvak stepped over it carefully but Narikin stayed outside.
The more he looked, the more he saw: there were bones in the grass on his right and in a vegetable patch on his left. The empty sockets of the skull in the doorway stared at him and he had to turn away. He took deep breaths and closed his eyes again but then he imagined he could smell the flesh rotting on the corpses.
“Eight dead,” said Kruvak as he came out of the hut. “All murdered but not recently... Are you all right?”
Narikin shook his head, “I’m going to be sick...”
He ran around the side of the hut and threw-up behind the remains of the chimney, where his cousin couldn’t see him. When he was finished, he leant against the rough bricks until his head stopped spinning.
He turned the corner again and Kruvak wasn’t there. “Cousin...?”
Then he saw him walking back from the scout with the flask in his hand. “I’m here,” he said.
Narikin noticed the way he looked around him, scanning the houses, the river and the trees. He was wary but he wasn’t afraid and Narikin wished he could be more like him.
Kruvak poured tea into a tin cup and handed it to him. “Drink this,” he said. “It’ll help take away the taste...”
It didn’t but Narikin thanked him anyway.
“I’m sorry...”
Kruvak shook his said, “Nothing to apologise for; nobody likes seeing a body the first time.”
Narikin forced himself to look at the remains. “How long ago do you think this happened?”
“Not long – it’s summer and the bodies would corrupt quickly. Perhaps a month or two – but certainly before the Rickobites decided to pack-up and leave.”
He squatted down beside one of the prickly skulls and picked it up gently. The dried flesh started to come away and Narikin had to look elsewhere.
He asked, “Why do you think they were killed?”
“Perhaps it was a test.”
“Of the insects...?”
“I can’t think of another reason.” Narikin heard him sigh. “They were just farmers, gentle and harmless. Whatever the Rickobites were doing on their world, they would have kept out of their way. They didn’t deserve to be torn apart like this.”
Narikin forced himself to turn back. “How do we know the damage to the corpses wasn’t post-mortem; could wild animals have scattered the bones?”
“Maybe, but these vertebrae have been sheared in two – not chewed. The only comparable damage I’ve ever seen is from the jaws of a myrmec but this cut is clean; more like a sword but from both sides of the bone.”
Narikin took a quick glance at where he was pointing and was reminded uncomfortably of his pruning secateurs.
Kruvak put the skull down carefully and stood up. “Can you take pictures or would you rather sit in the scout and wait for me?”
“I’ll take pictures.”
“Good; I’m going to walk up the hill and see if I can find any evidence of the livestock.”
“Why...?”
“Just a theory...”
Narikin took pictures of over fifty people, not just adults but infants too; cut and broken, bones chopped, smashed and mutilated. When he saw the body of baby, sliced in two, he burst into tears and had to stop. He went down to the river and stood on the jetty. He looked at the dark water and tried not to think at all.
He had never been close to so much freshwater before. There were ornamental ponds, tiny streams and miniature waterfalls on Kimidori but even on the bigger islands there was nothing like a proper river.
He watched as leaves and twigs were carried along by the current. Water-birds squabbled among the reeds on the opposite bank. A dragonfly skipped across the surface and a fish left a brief ‘O’ as it snapped at the insect.
With difficulty, Narikin went back to the village and finished recording the evidence. It was almost too dark to take pictures but he took them anyway.
Then he saw Kruvak coming back from the hill and went to meet him on the pathway back to the scout.
“They killed the animals too,” said his cousin. “I found the bones of sheep and cattle in the meadow. I think they came over the hill and swept down on the village, killing everything in their path. I’ve seen tracks in the soil that are not the marks of a human or quasi-human or another invertebrate - not a myrmec or a lycosa, or even a Cizer legionnaire. I can’t prove it but I’d say they were made by the ‘mantids’ I saw on the Felspar.”
“What was your ‘theory’?”
Kruvak sighed, “I think they were brought here so they could feed.”
Narikin swallowed, “But how do you know they came to eat and not just to kill?”
“If the villagers were the target; why kill the animals too? But there’s nothing left, not even a few stray chickens. The myrmec and lycosa were never this efficient.”
Narikin glanced at the forest, “And are we sure they’ve gone?”
“No - but there’s nothing left for them here.”
“Except us...”
“I’ll get you a rifle from the scout. Collect some wood for a fire.”
“Won’t the Rickobites see it if they’re patrolling?”
“They’re long gone. As far as they’re concerned, Tenrec is a dead planet.”
“But if they’ve left some of their monsters behind in case we came looking...?”
“That’s possible,” he agreed. “But if any of the villagers did survive, I hope they’ll see the light and then we’ll have witnesses to what happened here.”
By keeping busy, Narikin managed to keep his fears in check. He collected sticks and bits of broken fencing and made a pile near the jetty by the river. He avoided the huts and made sure he didn’t mistake bones for firewood.
He picked up what he thought was a branch or a piece of broken furniture and cut his hand on a sharp point. He dropped it again and then looked closer. He paused and looked around for Kruvak, saw him coming back from the scout with the rifle and the package Gader had given them.
“I’ve found evidence,” he shouted, trying not to sound too triumphant.
Kruvak left the package near the pile of firewood and ran across. “What have you found?”
The object was curved like a scimitar, two feet long, and covered in barbs like a briar-bush. The inner edge was serrated, with long points as sharp as knives. The sinews dangling from one end had dried in the sun.
Kruvak took it from him carefully. “This is what I saw on the Felspar; this is definitely the forearm of a giant mantis. The shape is identical.” He smiled at Narikin, “Well done, cousin.”
The thick, natural armour was pock-marked and they could see lead pellets buried in the surface. “Somebody has used a shotgun to try and kill it,” he said.
Narikin looked around to see if the rest of the body was nearby.
“They’ve barely grazed the surface,” said Kruvak. “The force detached the arm but I don’t think it stopped the creature.”
“It managed to get away...?”
“I expect so.”
“Are you sure a fire is a good idea?”
“We still need witnesses. This is good evidence but it’s just a piece of an individual and we don’t have an accurate idea of how many attacked the village.”
“What about the footprints?”
“They have six legs, Narikin; even half a dozen can look like a thousand if they’re running around in circles.” He handed his cousin a box of matches. “I’m going to put this in the scout and call the Kyzyl K
um to pick us up while you have a go at making a fire. Can you manage that?”
Narikin nodded, “Our gardener, Chikutei, showed me how.”
While the captain stowed the arm away and called the ship, Narikin piled sticks and lit them, added bigger bits of wood and soon had a good blaze going. He found two wooden boxes and sat down. He tried not to imagine eyes watching from the darkness but the flickering of the flames made movements on the walls of the huts; made him think monsters were prowling around them.
He added more wood and wondered if, like other beasts, the mantids were afraid of fire. But Kruvak had said they were intelligent, disciplined, so perhaps they could master their fears. Never-the-less, he made sure he could reach a burning brand if he needed to.
He was glad when Kruvak came back and said he’d made contact with the ship. “They’re on their way. We can eat while we wait,” he added, sitting down on the spare box and opening the package. “I’m looking forward to the pie; I have no idea how Huldi makes them. He says he got the recipe from the chef on a Droger trader but I think he must have been talking to the Lords. Try some; I don’t think you’ll have tasted anything like it...” He unwrapped the pie, broke a piece off and handed it to his cousin.
Narikin didn’t feel very hungry but he took it and nibbled at the edge. It had a strange taste. The outer layer of pastry was hard and savoury with a slightly greasy texture and a kind of jelly under the crust. The filling was pale and salty and he wasn’t sure he liked it very much.
After a mouthful, he gave the rest back to his cousin who accepted it eagerly. He stared at the fire for a while but then his eyes were drawn to the shadows and the points of white in the blackness that were the bones of the dead villagers. He wondered if they ought to bury them.
Kruvak saw him staring. “You can’t bring them back,” he said.
“Do you think every village on Tenrec has been wiped out?”
Kruvak was quiet for a moment and then said, “Yes - it seems only logical that they wouldn’t leave anyone behind who could testify to what their new weapon is capable of or how many of the creatures they’ve bred.”
Narikin shook his head, “I don’t understand how or why the Rickobites did this to another species. They were the tsars’ financiers, not killers; they never took part in any of the violence during the war.”
“What’s your point?”
“Are they really behind this crime or is there somebody else involved?”
“That is a good question.”
“A Zarktek perhaps...?”
“I hope not but the massacre of these people is their style. When we drove them out of their strongholds during the last phase of the war, they left nobody alive - not their servants, guards or anyone who could reveal where they were running to. This has a familiar feel, I agree. But if there was a Zarktek on this planet, he’s long gone now.”
Narikin stared at the flames, “There won’t be any other evidence, will there?”
Kruvak shrugged, “We’ll have another look when its light.”
“Without more, it’s going to be impossible to persuade the clans to believe us, isn’t it? However good the arm or my photographs, the Taira will say they mean nothing in particular or we’ve faked them for our own purpose.”
“That’s true - we need a witness. Failing that, if our fire attracts one of the insects we’ll try and capture it alive.”
He paused, watched Narikin’s expression turn to horror and laughed, “Just joking – if one of those things comes near us, I’ll shoot it dead.”
He unwrapped a packet of sandwiches and offered one to his cousin, who shook his head and said, “I’m not very hungry.”
“I know how you must be feeling but not eating won’t help.”
Narikin took the bag and looked inside. He found an apple and began to nibble at it.
Kruvak, still watching him, shook his head. “No wonder you’re so thin,” he said.
“Maybe if the giant insects see how little meat there is on me, they’ll leave me alone.”
Kruvak snorted, “Or maybe they’ll use your skinny bones to pick their teeth. Here, have a rifle and keep watch if you’re worried.”
“I don’t know how it works,” he confessed.
The captain showed him how to turn the safety-catch off and where the ammunition went. It was tricky to unload the cartridge that fitted under the firing mechanism but easy to put a new one in. When he felt confident he could use the weapon, they shared a cup of lukewarm tea from the flask.
“Apart from the shotgun blast,” Narikin began, “I didn’t see any barricades or attempts at defending their homes. The attack must have been very sudden.”
Kruvak nodded, “They had no warning and the insects probably came at night. A shotgun for hunting game was likely as much weaponry as any of the villagers possessed and as we’ve seen, ineffective against the insects’ armour.”
“They didn’t stand a chance then.”
“To be honest, I’m not sure a rifle bullet will stop them either. At the Battle of Myrmec, you could cut off their legs and even their heads and they would still keep coming. That’s why we lost. In the end, we retreated, left the planet and never returned. The Lords know if they’re still alive down there or whether they’ve died out, but you wouldn’t get me to go back.”
He talked about his experiences for a while and Narikin could only admire the way he seemed so relaxed about the dangers he had faced. But he noticed his cousin never stopped watching the darkness around them; he may have seemed indifferent but tiniest movement caught his eye.
Narikin could only feel uneasy. He kept looking over his shoulder and when he saw a flicker above his head he nearly jumped out of his skin. “What was that?”
“Just a bat,” his cousin replied.
He didn’t know what a bat was but he hoped it would go away. Then he heard a loud, sneering laugh coming from the direction of the river.
“A duck,” said Kruvak.
“You must think I’m pathetic,” said Narikin, shaking his head at his cowardice. “You’ve fought wars, seen horrors that would give me nightmares, and the only danger I’ve even been in is from a few harsh criticisms of my father’s. Are you sure you wouldn’t rather I taught one of your men how to use my camera and make pictures and take me to Awa where I won’t be a burden?”
His cousin laughed, “I’d rather face a legion of insect than the wrath of your father. I’m quite sure I haven’t made a mistake.”
“He wants me to die out here.”
Kruvak looked at him, “What do you mean?”
“My father wants Titer to replace me; that’s why he let me join the rangers. He thinks I won’t survive.”
“What makes you think that?”
“It’s just a feeling – I know he doesn’t like me.”
“It’s a big jump to go from dislike to wanting your son to die.”
“My father is a pragmatist – it makes more sense to him to have a warrior as his heir rather than a weakling who jumps at the sound of a duck.”
“And yet you came anyway - I think that took courage. Besides, Titer is no warrior. He’s never fought in a battle or crossed the border into hostile territory – you’re already more of a hero than him.”
“You’re the hero, cousin; I’m just here to take pictures.”
Kruvak paused, “Do you hear that?”
Narikin gripped the rifle tighter, “What is it?”
“Listen...”
Narikin heard a rushing noise on the breeze, growing louder. “What is it?” he repeated.
Kruvak smiled, “Our bed for the night.”
The silhouette of the Kyzyl Kum crossed the night-sky and circled around before coming to a stop above the river. A light blinked at them from the bridge. Then the field was trimmed and they could hear the sound of the ramp being lowered, Quassin shouting and rangers stomping across the decks.
“Come on, cousin,” said Kruvak, standing up. “Let’s go aboard and
have a proper meal.”
14 – Journey to Sarillon
They spent two days on Tenrec looking for survivors but as Kruvak predicted, they found nothing except empty villages and the skeletons of the villagers, all of whom had been torn to pieces. They found signs of the giant insects that had killed them, even the scene of a short and bloody battle in one village, but nothing to indicate their numbers and nobody came out of the woods to be a witness. There was no sign of Rickobite ships either, not even as they left the system and crossed where they ought to have been patrolling between Tenrec and Awa.
At a meeting between the Kruvak, Durgah, Jamadar and Quassin in the wardroom, to which Narikin was invited, they discussed where the Kyzyl Kum should go next.
Quassin said, “Despite the Shōgun’s injunction, I believe we should go north, to Variola, and see for ourselves what the Rickobites are doing there. We have Narikin’s camera now; we can take pictures and present the evidence to the Council of Empires on Gemote.”
Kruvak turned to Durgah, “What would you do?”
“I don’t agree with Quassin; even if we take pictures of a great fleet being prepared at Variola, the consequences of breaking our word to the Shōgun could lead to us losing his respect. Without the Shōgun’s blessing, our ‘evidence’ would never be accepted by the Council.”
“What would you do instead?”
“I think we should travel east or west along the border and look for other signs of their army. We are assuming the insects were taken to Variola but they could have been moved to Blench or Ugali. We need to know.”
“Jamadar...?”
The War Master paused for a moment and then said, “If the Rickobites are gathering their forces at Variola, the rest of Evigone should know. But I agree with Durgah; if we break the terms of the Neutral Zone Treaty and defy the orders of our Shōgun, not only we will lose his respect but it will not change our position with the Taira. There might be an army preparing to attack our colonies from Blench or Ugali or both - but without the Taira to help us, what can we do on our own?”
“Then we need to go to Kaishaku,” said Quassin. “If we can persuade Titer to send a larger force...”