The Ven Hypothesis (Kepos Chronicles Book 2)

by Erica Rue

  She kicked herself for taking so long to figure it out, but that’s what she got for thinking of it as a plant, even though it was an animal.

  “Zane, I haven’t seen any predatory mammals, except maximutes, but how far back was the last angler worm you spotted?”

  “Maybe ten minutes, why?”

  Dione grinned. “Are you a fast runner?”

  ***

  Dione was waiting for Zane to signal he was on his way. According to the plan they’d hurriedly made, once the Vens on the opposite bank had gone out of sight down the river, Zane would get the attention of the two Vens patrolling the water’s edge on his side. They would chase him to where she was waiting, trap ready. He would just have to reach Canto before they caught him. Should be manageable.

  This was why Dione’s heart skipped a beat when she heard the gun shot. That was not part of the plan. Had Zane needed to defend himself? That pistol might be enough to kill one Ven, if they were lucky, but not four. Dione hesitated for a few moments, waffling between staying put and sticking to the plan, or running back to help Zane.

  She began to move when he called over her manumed, his breathing heavy. “We’re on our way. They didn’t want to chase me, so I had to shoot one of them.”

  “I assume it’s still alive?”

  “Yeah, I missed.”

  “All right, I’m still in position. Remember the song to send Canto to a safe distance?” They had decided they didn’t want him too close in case things went badly.

  “Yes, got it.”

  The minutes Dione stood waiting were agony. She was afraid to blink or even clear her throat for fear of missing the early signs of their arrival. Soon she heard the unceremonious snapping of twigs that meant Zane was getting close. She hoped it was Zane. Please let it be Zane.

  “They’re right behind me,” Zane said as he ran up to Dione, careful to watch his step. She had her machete out. A Ven came hurtling into the clearing and charged right for them, but before it could reach them, it stopped, unexpectedly jerked back. Its foot was caught in something. By something. The angler worm.

  A few days ago, an angler worm had been large enough to pull Lithia’s thin frame all the way into its hole. This one was smaller and the Ven was bigger, which meant that the Ven was only up to its thigh on one leg. Having one leg free gave it a huge advantage when it came to leveraging itself out of the hole. The Ven struggled and growled.

  “Where’s the other one?” Dione asked in the uncertain respite.

  “I don’t know. It was right behind me.”

  The trapped Ven pushed against the ground, trying to free itself. “We’ve got to take this one down while it’s still immobilized.”

  Dione watched her own footing. They had picked an area especially dense with angler worm flowers to increase the odds of a catch, and it had paid off. Dione threw a rock at the nearest and most threatening flower, just so she wouldn’t have to worry about it. It disappeared underground. Now, she could concentrate fully on the Ven, the one with three nested rectangles.

  She thought the Ven would be more restricted and lower to the ground, but its size meant that it was still upright and fighting back. Zane was at its back trying to slide his machete in between its plates to reach those vulnerable neural connections. She was staring it in the face, trying to keep it occupied with jabs from her machete. It was a hacking weapon, not a stabbing weapon, so she aimed for the places where the plates overlapped, hoping to injure it slightly.

  It was not very effective. Zane wasn’t having any luck either. Once she thought he had it, but he had hit the wrong plate junction, and his machete stopped just a few centimeters deep.

  “Should I shoot it? I could probably hit it at this range,” Zane said.

  “The gunshot would give away our position,” Dione said.

  “I think all this growling already has.” As if on cue, the Ven let out a shrill howl.

  “All right,” Dione said. The Ven looked like it was making progress in its battle against the angler worm. “Anything to slow it down.”

  Dione got out of the way, and Zane fired two shots. The first hit it in the neck, and the second missed, because it writhed in pain. Or anger. Dione still had no idea what those facial expressions meant.

  The Ven sank a little deeper into the hole. One more shot from Zane, this one to the head, slowed it significantly. The Ven began howling again, and Dione just wanted it to be quiet. By some miracle, the other Ven was not there yet. Dione saw her opening and took it. She shoved her machete into the Ven’s open mouth, bringing her close enough to feel claws scrape her right shoulder, but they didn’t go deep.

  Finally the Ven collapsed, giving Zane the opening to sever the neural connections. The Ven was finally dead. The angler worm continued pulling.

  “I’m not sure how I feel about feeding this thing,” Dione said.

  “I doubt it will be able to pull the Ven down anyway,” Zane said, reloading the pistol.

  “Never underestimate nature.”

  A growl echoed through the forest, but it was not a Ven growl. It sounded like a dog. The frightened growl was followed shortly by a whimper.

  Dione’s head jerked up. “Canto! It must be the other Ven. Come on.”

  They two ran off through the trees in search of the maximute, before it was too late.

  13. DIONE

  Dione and Zane followed the sounds of Canto through the woods. When they crashed into the right clearing, they found Canto and a Ven squaring off. The Ven seemed put off by the hugeness of the maximute, and both creatures looked worse for wear.

  Canto had a nasty scratch down the side of his face, and the Ven, the one with the spiral, seemed to be limping.

  “We’ve got to help Canto,” Dione said.

  Upon their arrival, Canto gave a gentle boof, as if in warning. She had never heard Canto be so vocal before. He didn’t bark or growl while they rode him.

  “We’re here to help,” Dione said. Three of them against one Ven. These were the best odds they’d had yet. The Ven let out a piercing howl, almost like a challenge. She and Zane attacked from either side while Canto swatted at the Ven with his giant paw. Somehow the wretched creature managed to dodge most of their swings and jabs, rotating its body at just the right moments to avoid the brunt of the attacks.

  Finally, Canto got a solid smack in with his paw, knocking the Ven down. Before Dione could rush in for the kill, Canto snapped up the Ven in his mouth and shook vigorously. The Ven struggled and clawed wildly, but Dione heard the cracking noise of bones and plates breaking.

  Canto was a freaking beast, and she had not realized it until now. He might be beautiful, but he was a far cry from the gentle dogs back home. He dropped the Ven on the ground and yelped. Dione looked to the Ven, and guessed it was dead, but Zane moved in to make sure. Then Dione looked to Canto. Had the Ven tasted so bad he would yelp? Or maybe he had cracked a tooth?

  Canto approached, turning slightly, and Dione immediately saw. Deep horizontal gashes crossed his back and bled into his golden fur. He turned his head in distress, but clearly couldn’t see his injury well. It probably hurt a lot.

  She rubbed his neck. “It’s okay, Canto, we’ll get this fixed up.”

  How the hell was she supposed to do that? They didn’t have any medical supplies that would help him. She didn’t want to send him off alone, even to safety. What if he was too weak to make it?

  Canto lay on his side and panted. Dione stared at him, running through possible scenarios in her head. Suddenly, though, his ears perked up and he was growling again. He got to his feet.

  “Zane,” she said, but he cut her off.

  “The other two Vens. They found us.”

  This was not good. The final two females with the spiked circle and the bisected triangle, had entered the clearing.

  Canto did his best to look menacing, but he also looked very tired. His panting was loud, and Dione worried that he wouldn’t be able to fight. If he couldn’t fight, sh
e and Zane were screwed, too.

  She realized her own fatigue at the same time her despair set in. All of the running and hacking and jabbing had worn her down. Her right shoulder stung where she had been scratched, but her wrist especially ached from bracing herself against the inevitable resistance of Ven plates.

  She cycled through their options. They could flee, but Canto was in no shape to carry them, and they would not be able to outrun the Vens for long. They had to fight, though they would lose.

  Could they somehow do both, retreating slowly back to the angler plant? It had worked on the first Ven, but she worried that a Ven corpse sticking out of the ground would either spook the others or enrage them. Maybe Canto had enough fight left in him.

  The Vens focused their attention on the maximute, as if they knew he was the real threat, that the pitiful humans standing nearby would be easily killed afterward.

  One charged, and Dione lunged with her machete just in time to make him dodge, forcing him to veer from his attack vector. Immediately the other raced forward from the other side. Neither Dione nor Zane were close enough to stop it. It would land a blow on Canto’s unwounded side.

  A hair-raising howl pierced the air. The Ven stopped and turned. Two giant dogs sprinted into the fray. The dark brown one at the front didn’t slow down, but charged head down at the Ven closest to Canto. The Ven flew backward and struck a tree.

  Wild maximutes. They must have heard Canto’s cries and come to help.

  The other maximute, a lighter chestnut brown, snapped at the standing Ven and got a clawed hand to the face. He yelped and retreated backwards, but managed to swat back at the Ven. Everything happened so fast after that. Dione didn’t see what happened to the Ven the first dog attacked, but she did watch the second Ven get dismembered, limb by limb, like a chew toy. The maximute made it look as easy as pulling the legs off a bug, but there was no way a human would be able to replicate that Ven-killing method.

  The sounds of battle faded to the heavy breathing of all five survivors.

  “I think they’re dead,” Zane said.

  Dione nodded. Now to assess the damage. She approached Canto, but the dark brown maximute growled at her.

  Dione held up her hands in a useless, human gesture of peace. “We’re his friends.”

  Canto let out a few gentle barks, and the wild maximute stopped growling, but stayed close to Canto. The chestnut maximute licked Canto’s face right where the Ven had scratched him. The dark brown one was licking the other scratches along Canto’s body. Canto whimpered, but once he was done, he did the same for the chestnut one.

  Perhaps maximute saliva had healing properties, or at least did something to reduce the risk of infections. Dione was fascinated. At any rate, she was glad someone could help Canto, because she had no idea what she and Zane would have done. Her next thought was to call Brian. He might have some insights or advice where Canto was concerned.

  Zane called over to her from beside the dismembered Ven. “I severed the neural connections on the other Ven, but this one, well…”

  It had been decapitated. Pulled apart.

  Dione nodded. “I don’t think even a Ven can survive that.”

  ***

  While they rested, she monitored Canto closely. The maximutes seemed to be doing the same, judging by the soft, grumbling sounds all three were making in turn. Once they were satisfied that Canto was okay, the wild beasts each gave him one final lick, then trotted off into the forest. She wondered if Canto had met them before, perhaps on his way to or from a rendezvous spot. She would ask Brian when she called.

  She put off the call for several more minutes, worried that he would blame her for this, too. When she finally got up the nerve, there was no answer. She tried Lithia, but her manumed was off.

  “Lithia and Brian aren’t answering,” Dione said, the first sign of anxiety hitting her voice. “I guess Victoria didn’t like the evacuation plan.”

  “I’ll call Bel. Maybe she’s heard from them,” Zane said.

  He put Bel on speaker. She was able to tell them that Lithia and the Ficarans had survived a Ven attack last night, but she hadn’t heard from them this morning.

  Dione couldn’t believe it. Lithia and Brian could have been killed. “Why didn’t you tell us the Vens attacked!?”

  “There’s nothing you could have done. I didn’t see a point in worrying you. Have you found the professor?” Bel said.

  Dione looked to Zane to back her up, but he didn’t seem all that bothered. She sighed. “No, but we got the Vens that were hunting him. We think,” she said, “that he’s hiding in a cave system on the map, but his manumed’s blown.”

  “Are you sure? He said it was broken, but maybe he’ll get it working.”

  “No, it’s blown,” Dione said. “Some trick Zane used to get a location.”

  “Then you’d better get to that cave system.”

  “We’re going to need someone to come get us afterward. Canto’s injured. He’s doing okay, but he can’t carry three of us back to the Ficarans.”

  “I wouldn’t send you back there anyway. The attack last night was a ruse. Now that they’ve seen the defenses, they’ll make their real attack.”

  “They still have time to evacuate,” Zane said.

  “I just don’t know if they will. From what Lithia told me, Victoria seems more interested in stealing Aratian supplies than dealing with the real threat.”

  Dione clenched a fist. “What? Are you serious?”

  “Lithia was a little hard to understand, but that’s the gist of it. She was going to try to convince her this morning. If you can’t reach her, I imagine it didn’t go well.”

  “Then once we find the professor, what are we supposed to do?”

  “Find shelter and hope the Ficarans change their mind,” Bel said. “I don’t think I can fly the Calypso, and even if I could, I definitely can’t find a place to land in the woods. She’s too big.”

  “Fantastic. Let us know if you find anything else useful.”

  “I’ll take another look at the Ven body, but I want to go through some of these logs Zane found, too. Good luck.”

  “We’ll tell Professor Oberon you say hi,” Dione said.

  Things were not going as well as she’d hoped, much less how they’d planned. The Ficarans should have evacuated by now, but instead they were off raiding farms, doing exactly what she feared they would do with the newfound technology, and Brian and Lithia were out of contact.

  As much as she wanted to take a break and rest, she couldn’t risk losing the professor. Canto was curled up, not quite asleep, breathing shallowly.

  “Zane, will you stay here with Canto? I don’t want him to exert himself. I’m going to go find the professor.”

  “On your own?”

  “I think the worst of the threat is over,” she said, gesturing to the Ven corpses that littered the ground. “Plus, I can’t stand the smell here any longer.” Vens were nasty in every conceivable way.

  “You’re right about that,” Zane said, wrinkling his nose. “Once Canto feels a little better, I’ll take him down to the river. He probably wants to wash the Ven taste out of his mouth.”

  Dione gave the maximute one last pat on the head and headed back, toward her professor’s last known location.

  14. CORA

  Cora woke up late. She lay awake in her bed for a while, dwelling on her father’s disappointment. He should have been angrier with her. Yelled at her. Maybe he would when he returned in the evening, when he wasn’t within earshot of his men.

  Tomorrow was the Matching, a tradition started by the Farmer himself. During the ceremony, young women and men would be paired with the goal of improving the genetic diversity of the settlement. Pathetic Ficaran raiders would not keep her father away, and even if he was still upset, she wanted him to be there for her Matching.

  Besides, she had meant well when she helped Lithia escape, but Lithia and Zane had tricked her with the communication devices.
Lithia looked so much like her that she’d been sure it was a sign, but Lithia had somehow faked her DNA and appearance. They were not related. It wasn’t possible. Lithia was an alien, just like she claimed the Vens were.

  No, she wasn’t really an alien. Her uncle’s DNA analysis couldn’t be that far off. She came from somewhere else, though. Cora was tired of thinking about it. She would help her aunt make the final preparations for the Matching. Aunt Amelia had not been pleased last night by the news that Evy was still at the Mountain Base. She blamed Cora, even though she knew how stubborn Evy was. She got dressed, asked around, and soon, she found her aunt.

  Cora noticed the bags under her aunt’s eyes. She looked tired. She and some of the other women were sitting at a long table, fashioning wreaths from fresh-cut flowers. Their fingers poked, pulled, and twisted flower and stem into position in a mindless rhythm, like background music for their soft conversation. They deftly wove together the pink, orange, and blue flowers, some large and vibrant, others with thick clusters of tiny blooms.

  “Good morning, Aunt Amelia,” Cora said.

  “It’s hardly morning anymore, child,” Amelia said, not looking up from her work.

  She was still mad about Evy. Last night Aunt Amelia had asked about her cousin. Cora showed her aunt the mark on her wrist where Evy had bitten her to escape. She had tried to bring her back, but apparently not hard enough.

  Aunt Amelia was probably just upset with Evy. Cora studied the streaks of gray in her aunt’s hair and the curve of her frown lines and wondered how much of it was age, and how much of it was Evy. Aunt Amelia was not very old.

  “How can I help you prepare for tomorrow, aunt?”

  “Help? And what’s inspired this sudden change?” Amelia said. One or two of the women at the table smiled, but the others pretended not to hear.