Yazdani sat high in the saddle, the horse also burdened with full saddlebags. One of the Resistance fighters approached him the first day and wordlessly handed him a blaster rifle. Yazdani thanked the man, and slung the rifle over his back.
“You have blaster rifles?”
“Yes,” Shirazi replied. “Tech smugglers from the Union sometimes visit us. They cannot supply us with the amount Kilgore once did, and they sell to the Shah. But they also bring us information about what is happening in the Union.”
As they rode, Yazdani noticed the men kept a sharp eye on the surrounding mountains. “Can we expect the Naati here?” he asked Shirazi.
“It is a possibility, but the Naati almost never leave the dig sites; we are here, watching them. The dithya are the more immediate danger.”
“The dithya?”
“A sect of Muslim tribesmen. They hate everyone who does not follow their narrow interpretation of the Prophet’s faith, including the Shah. The dithya are scattered and weak, and only ambush us in remote areas.”
“Has there always been conflict between Christian and Muslim on Borrega?”
“No. As told in The Righteous Diaspora, Muslim and Christian fled Earth together almost four hundred years ago. United Earth was a pit of sin and filth, and our people were under constant persecution from the United Earth government. The State demanded the right to dictate our beliefs. By law, we had to buy licenses at ruinous cost just to worship God, as He demands. This forced both Muslim and Christian together to fight for our rights, but the persecution was too heavy. We spent decades saving funds in order to build ships and make our escape. Many of our ancestors did not want to undertake such a journey, but enough thought it necessary.”
“How many left Earth?”
“A million believers, Cyrus; a million people from the ancient lands in and around Persia, and some from other nations of the Earth. They set out in twenty sleeper ships and settled a succession of worlds over the next two hundred years: Alexie, Phoenix, and Kursk. More persecuted people from the worlds of United Earth joined us and our numbers grew, but United Earth eventually came to rule all of these, and the government enforcers were always there to meddle in our affairs. Our leadership decided we must flee beyond the borders of United Earth and chart our own course. After a journey of much difficulty, and not a few lives lost, we found Borrega.”
“‘Borrega’ is not a Persian or an Armenian word. How did it come to be the name of this world?”
“We Christians were a sizable minority. The first man who stepped on this planet, his ancestors were from South America, and he thought the world would be a fine place to raise sheep.” Shirazi smiled. “My grandfather was a shepherd.”
“I was born on Kursk. My ancestors were part of the original diaspora, but did not continue the journey.”
Shirazi laughed. “That is why your superiors selected you for this mission.”
“It seems so,” Yazdani said. Why didn’t his own ancestors continue the migration? Yazdani put that thought out of his head. “You were not attacked by the Snirr?”
“No. Borrega did not suffer during your Snirr Wars. The world is outside the historical borders of that species’ territory, and United Earth was too busy fighting for its survival to bother with us, out here on the edge of space.” Shirazi smiled. “We saw your troubles as Divine Judgment; indeed, United Earth is on the ash heap of history, yet here we survive.”
“What about the Naati?”
“We were troubled by the Naati twice, during what you call the Naati War and the Great Sophont War. Each time they occupied Borrega for several years, and we retreated to the wild spaces,” he paused and raised his arm toward the mountains around them, “and Muslim and Christian together fought the Naati as best we could. The cost was heavy; we lost millions of lives to violence, disease, and starvation. Borrega once had a space station and other facilities in orbit, as well as beautiful cities on the surface, but the Naati destroyed all of it, and Borrega has never recovered. The Naati retreated with the creation of the Neutral Zone. By God’s Grace, Borrega fell within the borders of that zone, giving us several decades of our own rule.”
“But then the Naati returned.”
“Shah Najid III Gul began another persecution against Christians when he ascended the Celestial Throne almost fifty years ago. His son, Sajad, continues to this day. The fool made an alliance, an unholy pact with the Naati. The Naati did not fight us openly at first; they aided the Shah with technology and intelligence. In payment, Sajad allowed them to conduct studies of us. When Kilgore was betrayed, Sajad let loose the Naati against those resisting his rule.”
“Studies?”
“Medical and genetic experiments. Psychological torture. It was the goal of the Naati to learn more about Humans, to find weaknesses in the Hominin Union. Admiral Kilgore knew the Naati were torturing us, and this was one of his motivations in providing support to the Resistance.”
“Can you provide proof of this? If there is, I must pass it to my superiors.”
Shirazi smiled. “Yes. You will get the proof you seek. Soon.”
“Why would the Shah allow this?”
“The Shahs’ desire for power and their hatred of us outweighs any scruples they may have in allying with the demon Naati. They keep power through terror, and mollify the Muslims under their rule by persecuting us Christians. That is why we cannot live under the Shah’s thumb; we must chart a separate course. Kilgore understood this.”
“Kilgore wanted war with the Naati; he hoped they would discover his meddling and attack the Hominin Union.”
“Is that what they told you?” Shirazi laughed. “Kilgore was a true believer in the Hominin Union. What do you call it? Yes, the Reconciliation and Reunification Act: the Union’s purpose is to guard all Hominin life in the Galaxy, not just on those worlds in the Union. Kilgore sacrificed his life to that purpose. The coward who betrayed him understands none of this.”
“Do you know who it was who betrayed him?”
Shirazi turned and looked at him. “Oh, yes. His name is Joshua McFinn.”
A few days later, as the column passed through a narrow alpine meadow hemmed in by sheer cliffs, the lead scout held up his hand and stopped his horse. The entire column stopped, and Shirazi hissed an order of silence. The men sat motionless for several minutes and looked around at the cliffs. The lead scout dismounted and knelt on the ground. He picked something up, mounted, and the three lead scouts rode back toward the main group. As the lead scout approached, Yazdani noticed a wide grin on his face. The scout spoke quickly and held out his hand so Shirazi could inspect the round pellets. Yazdani didn’t catch the meaning, but Shirazi smiled and turned to look at Yazdani.
“God has smiled on us this day, Cyrus. We know of one creature more ferocious than a Naati.”
“I don’t understand,” Yazdani replied, “how could that be a good thing?”
Shirazi pointed at the scout’s hand. “This is the feces of a cavecat, a creature native to Borrega. It is an ornery beast, and still much feared, but the dithya were the first to use the creature to fight the Naati.”
“In God’s name, how?”
“Watch and learn, Cyrus. Bijan has captured cavecats before, and has even trained a few. This is a good sign!”
Shirazi spoke orders, and the men dismounted and hobbled the horses. Several men pulled out fine metal nets from saddle packs and draped the rolled mesh over their shoulders. Shirazi and Yazdani dismounted and one of the men led their horses away. Shirazi spoke with the scout, Bijan. The latter was a tall, thin man, with brown skin and a thick black beard. His ready smile revealed several missing teeth. The scout wore a faded leather cap and brown and tan robes, and carried a long blaster rifle over his shoulder. He pointed at Yazdani and smiled. “What about the off-worlder?”
“He will accompany us on the hunt,” Shirazi replied.
Bijan laughed and shook his head.
“Me?” Yazdani felt the fear rise in
his stomach and chest. “I couldn’t possibly do anything but hinder you; I’ve never hunted for anything in my life.”
“Come,” Shirazi said, “you must see this. I insist.”
Yazdani shouldered his rifle and walked beside the Colonel. The majority of the party followed, while a few stayed back to watch the horses.
“These nets are made with fine links of stainless steel,” Shirazi said. “Cavecats have a strong bite.”
Yazdani felt more than a little nervous. “How big do they get?”
“The largest grow to a meter in length, and they have powerful legs and jaws, sharp eyes, and a keen sense of smell, but they’re deaf as a stone and have no voice. However, I will let you see their most startling characteristic for yourself.”
Great.
Shirazi ordered the men to set their blaster rifles to the stun setting. Yazdani did the same, and knelt, like the others, for a firmer base of fire. The men formed a line along the path, pointing their rifles in alternating directions, to opposite sides of the path, as if expecting attack from all around.
“Cavecats mostly feed on grubs and worms in the ground,” Shirazi said, “digging them out of the ground with their powerful limbs. This soil is rich, the result of erosion off the surrounding cliffs and mountains, and is full of such vermin.” He looked at Yazdani and smiled. “But they are clever predators, also fond of the flesh of horses and men.” He pointed at the cliff. “The beasts lair in the rugged caves and tubes that riddle these mountains. It seems we have crossed into their territory.
”Are they watching us?”
“Unlikely. Their eyes, while sharp, are also sensitive, and they do not like bright light. They live in dark caverns and only come out at night. That will give us some advantage. But they probably already smell us and the horses.”
“Will they attack us?”
“No. They need to be given a little incentive to emerge into the light.”
“Incentive?” Yazdani couldn’t believe what he was hearing.
Shirazi turned. “Bijan. Bring it to me.”
The scout pulled what looked like a vial or tube out of his vest and handed it to Shirazi.
“Cavecats find the pheromones emitted by the Naati extremely irritating,” Shirazi said. “Some men on Borrega have theorized that these chemicals somehow scramble the cavecat’s nervous system. As a result, the beasts will attack any Naati on sight.”
Yazdani pointed at the vial. “Is that what I think it is?”
Shirazi smiled. “Prepare yourself. Fire at any movement in the grass.”
“Where the hell do you get Naati sweat?” Yazdani asked as he raised his rifle.
“Later.” Shirazi opened the vial and threw it far into the grass. Bijan threw another into the grass on the opposite side of the trail. Yazdani almost gagged, the smell something like a week’s worth of smelly clothes and several kilograms of rotting meat that had fermented in the sun for a few days. He kept his eyes on the grass and the cliffs. The grass grew taller further away from the trail, but still covered the ground right up to the path. The cliffs loomed no more than twenty meters away on either side.
Everyone remained tense and quiet for several minutes, and then some of the men lowered their rifles. “Stay alert!” Shirazi hissed.
Yazdani heard a single pulse to his left, then several to the right. Some of the men shouted, and then everyone started firing into the grass.
Yazdani saw a ripple in the grass close to the cliff. The ripple seemed to move straight for him. Then the motion branched and three shapes emerged side by side from the taller grass directly in front of him, moving at incredible speed, but Yazdani couldn’t quite see them clearly. He pulled the trigger and the rifle fired clear blue pulses. The bolts loosed from several other rifles streamed toward the same targets. Several bolts struck each shape and they tumbled. Two of the shapes seemed to recover and lunged forward, but blaster bolts struck them again and tumbled onto the ground, not five meters from where Yazdani knelt. As the three shapes lay on the ground their color changed, and Yazdani saw what looked like hairless pink lions. “Active camouflage!” he cried.
The blaster fire tapered off and Shirazi stood and smiled. “A good catch! Three here!”
“Three more down here!” someone called.
“Four down on this end!” another cried.
“Any injur...” Shirazi began to shout, but screams cut him off. A man screamed off to the left, then another to the right. Pulses of blaster fire filled the air and the men at either end of the line scrambled toward the middle. A burst of red caught Yazdani’s eye, and he turned to see a man go down in a spray of blood, something on top of him. More shapes emerged from the grass, and Yazdani screamed and fired.
“We’re surrounded!” Shirazi screamed and fired his rifle. Yazdani scanned the grass and fired at anything that moved. More shapes emerged, slaughtering more men. The men bunched up, and Yazdani could no longer fire without hitting another man. He looked around in desperation.
Just as quickly as it had begun, it ended. Men lay moaning on the ground, some missing limbs, but others lay quiet, their entrails spread out beside them. The others rushed to assist the wounded.
Yazdani felt his body tremble with anger. He threw down his rifle and seized Shirazi’s jacket, pulling the man close to his face. “You knew this would happen!”
Shirazi’s voice sounded low and even. “I knew it was a possibility, yes.”
“For the love of God, how could you?”
“I wanted you to see this, Cyrus. This is just a sample of the daily sacrifice we made to fight the Naati and the Shah. Against the Naati just one of these creatures is worth ten trained men, and we will need them to show you what the Naati are doing here on Borrega.”
“But these are your men!”
Shirazi grasped Yazdani’s hands and pushed him away. “These men know the risks, and yet they willingly fight.” He straightened his jacket. “As do I.”
Yazdani sat on the ground and put his head in his hands. He felt the tears flowing down his cheeks. All of the agents and operatives he sent into action floated in front of his eyes, but he himself had never been in any danger. The guilt rose like a wave, a tsunami that threatened to drown him.
Shirazi knelt beside him. “This is what you in the Hominin Union do not understand. We will sacrifice everything, if need be, for our faith and our freedom. Could you say the same?”
They had enough nets for a dozen cavecats, so they slaughtered the others. The creatures regained consciousness after twenty minutes, and thrashed about in the steel nets for another twenty, but then finally lay still. Banji and the other two scouts administered a sedative to each, and the men draped the motionless creatures over the backs of several packhorses.
The largest was over a meter long. The creatures had lithe and muscular cat-like bodies, pink and hairless. The head looked monstrous: the creature had two over-sized eyes covered with a milky nictitating membrane; the mouth was huge, with several rows of sharp teeth; two leaf-shaped organs on either side of the head served as sensitive chemical receptors.
Yazdani did what he could to help the wounded, but it seemed he was just in the way. Four men suffered grave wounds, so the others would need to lash them to packhorses when the party continued on its way.
A dozen men died during the assault. The remaining men washed each of the bodies and enshrouded them in white cloths. Under normal circumstances, they would bury the bodies, but in this case, they were burned so any remaining cavecat would not eat the dead. All of the men, including Yazdani, participated in the collective prayer for forgiveness of the dead. As he spoke the words, memories of his childhood flooded into his mind.
They spent the night in that narrow meadow, General Shirazi posting guards in case any cavecat prowled the darkness. Yazdani ate his evening meal alone and in silence, and didn’t close his eyes all night. The long forgotten memories awakened by the funeral rites haunted him. He saw the funerals of his great-grandp
arents as if it happened yesterday. Waves of shame came over him, shame at abandoning his beliefs, shame at the sins he committed in his adult life, shame and guilt at sending intelligence operatives to their deaths. He felt he could not compare to these men, men he at one time thought simple, or even barbaric. He could not deny their bravery and sacrifice.
Have I wasted my entire life?
Several days later, after riding long hours, the column entered a narrow ravine. A man appeared, and Shirazi called out in greeting. Shirazi slipped off his mount, strode forward, and the two men embraced. The other men began to dismount and unload supplies. Yazdani gingerly dismounted and hobbled over to the side of the ravine. I’m never going to sit down again. He leaned against the rock and winced. He couldn’t even remember how long they had been on the trail. Fourteen days? Fifteen? Sixteen? The only certainty was soreness and pain.
Shirazi introduced him to Ahmad Abbas. “Commander Abbas was pilot of the last shipment of arms and supplies from Admiral Kilgore all those years ago. Ahmad, this is Cyrus Yazdani, an agent from the Hominin Union.”
Yazdani shook the man’s hand. “I was told you might still be alive.”
“I am glad the Union has decided to return,” Abbas said with a wide grin. The man had weathered brown skin, dark eyes, and a thick black beard shot with gray.
The Borrega Test Page 22