Jalok

by Elin Wyn

  I climbed out of the crater.

  Halfway up, I lost my footing. It wasn’t a far fall but the Puppet Master burrowed up vines to catch me anyway.

  “Thanks,” I gave the vine a pat.

  Once out of the crater, I headed to a copse of trees deeper into the forest. Since the Xathi invasion, the creature populations dropped considerably.

  Walking through the forest was a death wish before. Now, it was just highly unrecommended.

  Which didn’t seem like a bad idea to most people, but I knew it was a sign that our ecosystem had been badly disrupted.

  I stopped in a small clearing. Thanks to the Puppet Master and the efforts of dedicated citizens, the forest had begun to grow back.

  It wasn’t what it used to be. I could still see chunks of sky through the canopy and most of the trees still had tinges of brown death on their trunks.

  It was progress, though. The forest would be in top shape in no time.

  The Puppet Master’s vines rose out of the earth beside me. I reached out and pressed my palm against one.

  “It’s my duty to advise you that being here is unwise,” the Puppet Master warned. “The creatures of the forest have begun to return to this area.”

  “Why? I have the ultimate protection.” I gave the vines another pat.

  “What sort of experiment are you trying to perform?”

  “I’m going to attract one of the sentient trees. You’re going to stop it from attacking me. While you do that, you’re going to tell me everything you’re thinking and feeling.”

  “Thinking is an inaccurate term for what I do.”

  “I know but I’m human, remember? Limited understanding of beings and brains bigger than my own. Now, will you do this?”

  The Puppet Master went silent for a few moments. “A Durindium is already on your scent,” he stated.

  “A what?”

  That was far faster than I expected, and I jumped to switch gears from the theoretical to the very, very immediate.

  Before the Puppet Master could respond, a creature leaped down from the canopy above.

  Its body was long, lean, and feline in proportions. Sharp obsidian talons dug into the earth as it landed. Its face looked avian with a sharp, bony beak. Around its neck was a fan of growths that looked like thick flower petals.

  It reminded me of a lion’s mane in the old vids from Earth.

  It eyed me with its split pupil stare and let out a shriek that made my ears ring.

  “Find a way to stop it from attacking me.” My voice shook as I spoke. “And let me know how you’re doing it.”

  Whose idea was this?

  “Its willpower is substantial,” the Puppet Master replied.

  The Durindium slowly circled me.

  I pivoted, keeping my body square with its body. It was looking for a weak point, a good place to pounce.

  “Is willpower a key factor in determining how you control another creature?” I kept my voice steady.

  Focusing on the experiment would help keep my fear under control. I had a feeling the Durindium could smell fear.

  “Yes. Right now, I’m negotiating with the Durindium’s essence, it’s soul if you will,” he explained.

  The Durindium snapped it’s beak and hissed.

  “It doesn’t look like it’s going well.”

  “It’s not.”

  “Why would you tell me that,” I whimpered.

  “Did you not wish to know?”

  The Durindium swiveled to face me head on. It lowered its haunches in preparation to spring forward right at me.

  “Now would be a good time to wrap up negotiations,” I pleaded.

  The Puppet Master didn’t answer.

  A wave of doubt washed over me. What if the Puppet Master wasn’t my friend at all? What if he was still an enemy of the humans at heart?

  The Durindium leaped forward. I closed my eyes and curled myself downward as if that would protect me from its slashing talons.

  I heard its feet land on the forest floor but no impact came. Its hot breath whipped through my hair.

  Against my better judgment, I peeked up.

  I was face to face with the Durindium, my nose less than an inch from its protruding beak.

  I raised a shaking hand and touched the Puppet Master’s vines, curling around my feet.

  “So,” I gulped. “The negotiations went well?”

  “I convinced the creature that eating you will bring on my wrath,” the Puppet Master supplied.

  Guilt hit me. I shouldn’t have doubted him.

  Slowly my stomach began to unknot.

  “Can you walk me through your process? I was too busy being terrified the first time.”

  “Certainly.”

  The Puppet Master must’ve done something else to the Durindium because it suddenly let out a yelp and darted back into the forest.

  I released the breath I didn’t realize I’d been holding.

  At the Puppet Master’s insistence, I agreed to go back to the safety of the crater. Once I was seated with my equipment once more, the Puppet Master began his explanation.

  “What occurs between myself and another lifeform cannot be accurately put into your human vernacular,” he started. “However, I’ll do my best. My lifeforce pulses through this planet like a network of rivers. All lifeforms on this planet drink from my rivers. Parts of me are parts of them. Do you understand?”

  “Partially.” I recorded a few notes in my field datapad and nodded for the Puppet Master to keep going.

  “I control my lifeforce, even the parts that are in other lifeforms. My lifeforce becomes their lifeforce. When I take control of another creature, I’m simply taking control of my own life force.”

  “Why was it harder to control the Durindium than it is to control the sentient trees?” I asked.

  “The Durindium is an active hunter, a strategist. Its intelligence is greater than that of the sentient trees. It’s clever enough to detect an outside force in its mind and fight against it. The one that attacked you was also desperate. Its natural prey populations are far too small.”

  “I understand.” I took down more notes. “Could you’ve used vines to directly manipulate the Durindium?”

  “If I’d planted one of my seeds within the Durindium, I could have. However, it’s more likely that would’ve killed it. The sentient trees make excellent hosts since they are closer to plants than animals. They are infinitely simpler than creatures like the Durindium, who are more like animals than plants.”

  “Is that why you can’t control humans or aliens?”

  “I never said I can’t control them.”

  Wait. What?

  “If I were to try, it would take a great deal of energy and it would be a lengthy battle for control. You humans and your alien friends have my lifeforce within you. You take it in every time you eat a plant or an animal from the forest.”

  “I appreciate that you’ve never tried to take over my brain,” I chuckled.

  “Brain is inaccurate,” the Puppet Master corrected. “But since I can’t draw a more apt parallel, you’re welcome for not taking over your brain.”

  With a laugh, I checked the neuro-monitors I had hooked up earlier. The monitors recorded great spikes of energy during the time of my ill-planned experiment.

  My field equipment couldn’t fully analyze the spikes so I send them over to my lab back in Kaster.

  If I couldn’t complete a satisfactory analysis there, I’d have to send it to the lab in Nyhiem.

  “If a creature came from somewhere else, but took in your life force, would you be able to exert control over it?” I asked.

  “Yes, with one exception.”

  That didn’t sound good. Not at all.

  “Which is?”

  “My race doesn’t have a proper name for them. Millennia ago, when there were more of us and we were able to communicate, we called them the Ancient Enemies. They were older than us, more powerful than us, and capable o
f siphoning out lifeforce until there was nothing left.”

  “How awful.” I made note of this new, unsettling information. “What else can you tell me about them?”

  “Nothing.” The Puppet Master sounded mournful. “That’s all I know. My race never learned how to combat them. We never discovered where they were from or what their purpose was, other than stealing our lives.”

  “Is that something we should be worried about?”

  “They haven’t been active for thousands of years. I suspect they’ve moved on to a more plentiful galaxy.”

  I entered this new information into my notes.

  Somehow, the Puppet Master’s words didn’t bring me any comfort.

  Jalok

  Hunched over, elbows on knees, the turbulence jostled me about to the limits the shuttle’s crash webbing would allow. Air travel has never caused me much problem, but I had to feel for Navat.

  The big Valorni sat a few seats to my right, and struggled immensely to keep down his last meal.

  Our team leader, Sk’lar stood in the aisle between us grunts, not bothered in the least by the turbulence. As a highly modified K’ver, his ebony skin was laced with circuitry, connecting a series of implants that let him accomplish feats like remaining upright inside an airship shaking like a leaf in the wind.

  “Kaster’s central city square has become the site of a massive protest by the anti-alien movement.” His black eyes constantly scanned the faces of our team, making sure we were still paying attention, despite the turbulence. “Likewise, counter protesters have swollen the city block far past capacity. In short, it’s hot, cramped, miserable and there are thousands of angry people.”

  “Sounds like a hot date night with your woman,” Cazak quipped. Some chuckles went around the cabin despite Sk’lar’s withering glare.

  “Knock it off.” Sk’lar’s voice dropped an octave, and he gave Cazak a particularly stern glare. “Our job here is to quell any violence, period. If we can’t be professional amongst ourselves, how are we going to keep everyone else calm?”

  “With all respect, boss.” We turned our gazes on Tyehn, who had his hand sheepishly raised. “A little ribbing does not make us unprofessional.”

  “I don’t recall exceptions about ribbing your commanding officer, soldier. If you don’t have anything useful to contribute, shut your mouth and load up with non-lethal rounds.”

  “Non lethals?” Cazak’s voice took on a whining quality. “When do we just get to bust heads like the old days?”

  “You have your orders. We want this situation contained with a minimum of collateral damage. Once we touch down at Kaster, we will coordinate our efforts with civilian security. Does anyone have any questions?”

  Tyehn and Cazak put their hands up.

  “About the mission?”

  They both lowered them back down.

  “I’ve got a question.”

  Sk’lar glared at me, but nodded curtly, giving me permission to speak.

  “If the humans hate our guts, how are we supposed to keep things calm? We’re the ones being protested against. Shouldn’t we at least be wearing the holo-disguises?”

  “General Rouhr wants the anti-alienists to see that we’re not the enemy. That we’re just here to keep the peace.” He shrugged. “Apparently some of them heard rumors we can shapeshift or something, which isn’t helping with the whole trust issue.”

  He scanned the cabin, then nodded as if to himself.

  “Good. Now, Strike Team Three has a reputation with command for being a bunch of, to use a human term, ‘cowboys.’ I’d like to change that perception. Clear?”

  “Yes, sir.” We all said raggedly. Sk’lar sat down to make adjustments to his own munitions.

  “He was more mellow before he started screwing around with Phryne,” muttered Cazak. “Isn’t that supposed to work the other way around?”

  Sk’lar glanced our way sharply, but didn’t offer any rebuke.

  The shuttle banked into a hard turn, throwing us against our crash webbing. Engines decreased their rhythmic throb as we slowed our pace and came in for a landing. There was a thump beneath our feet as the landing pylons deployed, then the ship settled in with surprising gentleness.

  “All right, lock and load.” Sk’lar lead the way down the gangplank as Team Three disembarked. As soon as the ramp dropped down, we could already hear the cacophony of shouting from the town square.

  Everywhere we looked, there was a press of sapient beings.

  Civilian security had erected waist high barriers, keeping the protesters and counter protesters roughly divided on either side of the square. However, the barriers were easily circumnavigated, and there was a near constant parade of traffic back and forth. As we watched a group of masked anti-alienists leaped across the barrier and charged across the short stretch of flagstone separating them from the other side.

  They heaved metal canisters over the barriers, then ran back where they came from. We couldn’t see where the canisters hit, but several clouds of noxious smoke indicated where they had fallen.

  “Look alive, people. Navat, you and I will seek out the officers in charge of security here. We’ll use comms to coordinate. Tyehn, we can assume that the anti-alienists are the more likely to be violent, so keep watch on their side. Let me know the second another group tries to cross those barriers.”

  He turned his black eyes upon myself and Cazak.

  “You two. Those masked men. I want their asses.”

  So much for keeping the peace. But honestly, it didn’t look like we had much choice.

  “Yes, sir.” Cazak headed off at a dead run, an eager gleam in his eyes. As I hastened to follow, Sk’lar bellowed after us.

  “Alive. Take them alive.”

  The sight of two heavily armed Skotan soldiers beating feet cleared a path before us. Protesters on both sides gaped at our surprising speed. My scales rippled out along my body as I prepared for combat.

  Cazak reached the barrier first. He leaped into the air, drew his legs up under his body, and cleared the barrier by a good three feet. On his way down he lashed out with both feet into the sternum of an anti-alien protester.

  I didn’t know if the man was threatening Cazak in any way, but I did know that he wouldn’t be causing anyone any trouble laying on his back gasping for breath.

  The relatively lower gravity on our new planet allowed us Skotan to perform feats which were out of reach to our allies. I bunched my legs up and leaped into the air over the barrier, but I cleared the barrier by nearly five feet, putting me high above the throng.

  That viewpoint allowed me to spot the handful of masked men as they cut through the crowd like a wedge. They were even knocking down and trampling over their own allies.

  “Nine o’clock, Cazak.” I landed in a run and stretched my legs out for maximum speed. A protester, his face a mask of rage, swung an improvised club my way. I pointed my rifle and squeezed the trigger, sending a slow velocity latex based projectile into his sternum. The man’s cheeks poofed out, his club clattered to the ground, and he crumpled into a heap.

  Anyone else who even looked like they were going to be a problem got the same treatment.

  The mercy rounds created a kind of silly sounding floop when fired. Judging by the floops which came from behind me, my team were likewise deploying their weaponry with a liberal hand.

  Sure, those protesters would be hurting for days after the riot.

  But I’m not the one who ruined a perfectly good day by protesting another sapient species’ right to exist.

  If it had been up to me, we’d all be at the nearby beach having a—what did the humans call it?—a Luau.

  That sounded nice.

  Instead, I found myself in a swirl of sweating, furious humanity who all wanted my blood and I was not allowed to kill any of them. The press of the crowd closed in behind me, swallowing Cazak.

  I was not particularly worried about him, or the rest of the team. They could take care of
themselves.

  I was worried about myself, because at that point I was facing down dozens of protesters, some armed with bladed weapons. My thumb switched the rifle from single shot to free fire mode. I swung the rifle in an arc, and the barrel spewed a sadistic spread of non-lethal agony throughout the would be attackers.

  People always think they could tough it out until they took a mercy round. Then even the biggest, baddest Valorni will crumple into a heap.

  But the crowd was all around me, and multiple hands clamped onto my arms. My rifle was pulled out wide, useless at such close quarters, and blows rained down on my head and shoulders.

  My scales absorbed the worst of it, but the sheer weight of their numbers threatened to overwhelm me. If I went down there, I would die, simple as that.

  With a sudden surge, I threw off most of my attackers and leaped into the air, climbing upon a communications pylon some twenty feet above the grand melee.

  I reached back and tossed off the fool still clinging to my neck.

  Some of the crowd hurled rubbish my way, but a few squeezes of my trigger taught them the error of that tactic.

  Panting, I wiped blood from my eye. There was a small cut on my forehead, but otherwise I was uninjured.

  My gaze swept over the square. It had descended into total chaos, with the barriers knocked prone and both groups swirling about like a horde of angry talusians. The situation had gone from a raucous protest to a full blown riot.

  It was possible the arrival of our team might have been the catalyst for the bedlam, but part of me also believed such an outcome was inevitable.

  If people want to riot, it doesn’t take much to set the spark.

  With all of the wild fighting going, on, I could not spot my team.

  Only the sound of their weapons discharging gave me an estimate of their location.

  But I would have to wade through a sea of hostile humanity in order to reach them.

  Skrell.

  Dottie

  After getting such exciting results from the Puppet Master, I’d headed back to Kaster to run the samples through the computers.

  And that’s where it stopped being exciting.