Rogue Stars

by C Gockel et al.

  The road led to the spaceport where she was sure the Murderers would be doing alien things that made sense to them, but no sense to anyone sane. She wanted nothing more than to be far from there and under a trillion cubic tonnes of rock in Kachina Twelve, but that would take a few cycles more and some careful work on her part. Kazim was a good sort, but obviously needed care. Shima would provide, who else was there?

  The Harmonies revealed Kazim’s anxiety. He had been like that since discovering the massacred people. She thought until then Kazim had been treating the new war as some kind of adventure, exciting and possibly a way to advance in his clan, but now the reality had him by the tail. He had realised that labelling events as the end times didn’t make them a neat and tidy thing. There was blood, and there was pain, and there was death. A great deal of death.

  There was no choice, Shima decided. The Harmonies assured her no one was close, but that didn’t mean they were safe. Her gift could reveal living things, but it could not show her devices or tell her if the area was being observed from a distance. With the Merkiaari in control of the orbitals, if any of them had been spared, they could have surveillance of anywhere on the surface they wished. Even if they had destroyed everything in orbit, a situation Shima deemed likely, the Murderers still had their ships watching. Still, how likely was it for two people to be detected from orbit way out here?

  Shima would have been very surprised to learn it was in fact highly likely, because the Merkiaari were already tracking various groups leaving the cities and had set a continuous over watch of both inhabited planets. It was standard doctrine to track vermin migrations to aid in extermination missions.

  Shima did not know anything about Merkiaari standard doctrine or procedures. She simply had the Harmonies and her instincts. She felt uneasy, but had felt that for most of the cycle and so dismissed the unsettling feeling as her imagination. Besides, even if the Murderers appeared before her on the road in plain sight, it didn’t change her need to head toward the mountains. She was sure to feel better once deep into the trees and hidden under their concealing canopy.

  “I’ll go first,” Shima said. “Don’t follow me right away. Wait and watch half a seg before leaving cover. I will wait for you.”

  “Half a seg! Really? Don’t you think that’s over the top?”

  Shima hesitated and then reluctantly agreed. Her paranoia was getting the better of her. They really did need to vacate the area. “Let’s say... a tenth seg then?”

  “A tenth it is,” Kazim said.

  “If something happens, run Kazim. I will find you.”

  Kazim’s ears went back briefly at the thought of running away, but then he agreed with the necessity. He was armed with a knife and nothing he could do would help Shima if she was seen.

  Shima crept into the open on four feet, keeping her tail tucked and her belly low to the ground. It reminded her of hunting with her father, and she could almost see him in her mind’s eye, his translucent kah just ahead leading the way.

  Right fore-foot left hind-foot and pause. Left fore-foot right hind-foot, and pause to listen. She kept her head held low between shoulders, ears swivelling listening for any sound, muscles taught with tension ready to launch her into a sprint in any direction.

  She lowered her face to the road and breathed in, rolling scent markers over her tongue and the glands at the back of her throat. A growl rumbled deep in her chest, but the stink of Merkiaari was old. She raised her head as tension eased a little, and with more confidence, she trotted across the road and into the trees. She allowed herself a sigh of relief, and lowered herself to the ground in some brush to watch Kazim’s crossing.

  As planned, he waited a tenth and then crept out into the open. She watched with her eyes and the Harmonies, but as far as she could tell, Kazim was safe. He did all the right things, and it wasn’t long before they were moving together under the safety of the trees.

  Shima only looked back once to see the red glow in the sky as Zuleika burned.

  They stayed on four feet that night, ready to flee at top speed on the instant; besides that, it was easier to negotiate the wilds that way. Shan had evolved to walk upright yes, but they were still at their physical best on all fours. It allowed them faster responses, allowed them to use sensitive noses and glands in the throat to snuff the ground seeking scent trails. Even their tails became what they were meant to be rather than just another appendage for gesturing. A Shan’s tail was quite muscular, but it hadn’t evolved to hold things, though it could do that in a clumsy way. It was for balance. When a Shan ran at high speed and needed to change course abruptly, something hungry Shan in the past often needed to do while chasing canny prey, the tail became a way to help balance and steer.

  They didn’t stop that night; neither did they hunt. They had both eaten heartily back in the city and could go without food for cycles at a push. Shima would prefer not to fast for that long, she had used her reserve escaping the Merkiaari, but she could if she needed to.

  Without discussion, they kept moving until dawn approached. When Shima sensed it was nearly sun up, she began actively seeking water and a place to stop. It took no effort to find a stream, barely a trickle of water above the surface but good enough for their needs and after drinking their fill they burrowed into dense underbrush to rest.

  Kazim took first watch, and Shima gratefully allowed her thoughts to slow enough that she could attempt sleep.

  “Shima?” Kazim whispered. “Please Shima, wake up. Something is coming.”

  Shima didn’t groan, though she wanted badly to do just that. The way she felt—weary to the bone and aching in muscle groups she had over used—she couldn’t have slept for very long. When she opened her eyes though, she could tell by the level of light and shadow that it was mid-afternoon. Kazim was supposed to have woken her to trade watches much sooner than this. She felt anger stir but then fade, defeated by tiredness. What was the point in anger now the damage was done? No point at all, and besides, Kazim probably thought turnabout was fair considering she had let him sleep in Zuleika yesterday

  Stifling her groans, she stretched each leg and opened her eyes. “Mmmmmffffph, whatsit?” she mumbled around a tongue that felt thick in her mouth. By the Harmonies she wanted a drink.

  “Hush!” Kazim hissed under his breath. “Something’s out there... I feel it.”

  Shima stiffened and her eyes opened wide in alarm as she remembered the situation. Tahar, Merkiaari, Chailen...

  She rolled over to find what had Kazim so worried. He wasn’t strong in the Harmonies; if he had been he would have noticed the newcomer long before this. Shima sampled the mind glow and relaxed a little. It wasn’t good, but it wasn’t a danger to them.

  “It’s one of us, not Merkiaari,” Shima said. The mind glow felt light as a breath of wind and the colours pure pastels of orange and yellows, unsullied with the jewel colours of adult experiences. “Young I think... male? Yes, male and barely old enough to be out alone.”

  Kazim nodded, taking her word as absolute fact. He was recording with his thrice cursed camera again, Shima noted and sighed. He was useless. The beamer she gave him to use while on watch lay beside him on the damp ground absorbing moisture.

  She retrieved and holstered the weapon sparing a brief glare for Kazim as she did so. She might as well not have bothered. Her disdain just bounced off. He would never understand why seeing the weapon not in his hand and aimed made her angry. He had no fear, none, but it was the bravery of absolute faith in another’s abilities, not in the belief of actual safety. He was too trusting, and that endangered her as much as him. It was patently obvious she could not trust him on watch alone from now on.

  She held back a sigh. Why was she even bothering to think about it? She had known from the moment she met Kazim that he needed someone to lead him to safety. He was not wilderness wise or trained in the ancient skills as she was. It was her failure letting him stand watch at all, not his; she could have meditated instead of sle
eping and kept a better watch than he could wide awake. Not boasting or false pride. Simple fact.

  Why did she always find herself in the position of den mother like this? She wasn’t a clan matriarch—mother to generations—and never would be, so why did she feel the responsibility she imagined they must feel toward others? Why did she want to reach out and make it better when she saw someone in need? She wasn’t a healer with their compulsion to take away pain and coddle everyone. Frankly, she found that trait in healers annoying if anything. She certainly didn’t feel that way did she?

  She was scientist caste as were many in her family. She fit the life perfectly. Surely she had chosen the right path. She loved her work. Research was her life, genetics her chosen field. Besides, she had never shown any talent the healers would own. Perhaps it was losing her mother at such an early age that awoke this in her. Perhaps looking after Tahar and Chailen did it, but whatever caused it had made her want to save Kazim despite himself. She couldn’t save everyone, and had lost Tahar already, but she wouldn’t let Kazim sleep walk into death. He was hers as much as Chailen was... for now anyway.

  “Don’t move from this spot, Kazim. I will fetch him. And when I give you a weapon, if I ever do again, you by the Harmonies will at least pretend to know what to do with it!”

  Kazim’s nostrils flared wide and his ears went back as if facing into a stiff wind. “What did I do?”

  Shima growled low. What was the point? He was clueless. Kazim was looking around in bewilderment trying to discern what was amiss. He hadn’t even noticed her taking and holstering the beamer right in front of him! Utterly clueless, it was simply staggering how any Shan could be this oblivious to danger.

  “Just...” words failed her. “Just... don’t move. Don’t do anything, nothing at all. Don’t help me... by the Harmonies please don’t try to help me!”

  Kazim blinked, seemingly at a loss to explain her sudden change of mood. “I’ll stay here if you want me to, but whoever he is will find us on his own. That’s why I woke you. He is coming this way.”

  “I know he is, but is he leaving a trail a wild Skaggikt could follow?”

  “Skaggikt are not indigenous to this—”

  “It’s an expression, Kazim!” Shima hissed. “There are others we don’t want following him to us.”

  Realisation dawned and his eyes widened, “You mean Merkiaari.”

  “Yes. Aliens here would be bad... besides, Skaggikt aren’t the only creatures I don’t want on my tail and some are native to this region.”

  “Really? What—”

  “Later.” Shima said cutting him off. Really, his curiosity would be the death of him, of both of them. “I’ll fetch him.”

  Shima left her beamers holstered, and on four feet trotted away to fetch their visitor. Kazim was right, the newcomer would have stumbled upon them anyway, but she wanted to be sure his back trail was clear. If she had to take in another stray, she wanted to be sure his baggage was all in order so to speak. She didn’t much like surprises anymore. They could kill you.

  She circled wide around him, keeping his mind glow centred within her search perimeter. No one was on his trail, which was good, but said trail was glaringly obvious, which was bad. Shima didn’t sigh. Another city bred mouth to feed. Seriously? Why wasn’t she surprised? The trail he was leaving meant he was like Kazim, not wilderness trained. Maybe Tahar was right when he said hunting was the past, but surely moving stealthily was Shan nature?

  There was no time to debate nurture over nature right now, but if there ever came a time for such things, she would tell the elders what was what. Training in the ancient arts needed to be put into the youngling’s curriculum if parents couldn’t be trusted to teach their cubs properly. She was being unfair, Shima knew. All Shan were instinctive hunters, but that meant there was no formal schooling for it, which in turn meant a huge variation in competence. Survival could depend on such things now.

  Shima took a little time to blur the youngling’s trail. Easily done, it took no time at all before she was ready to approach him. That she did, from behind and to his left. Never surprise a Shan from the front if you don’t want your ears shredded. Tahar taught her that when she had tried to use a tree and long leap to surprise him. He had known she was there of course—he really had been one of their clan’s greats—but he had acted as if surprised only pulling his blow at the last instant. With claws in, it had only made her eyes cross not drawn blood or shredded her ears.

  “I am Shima. You need help?” Shima said standing in deep shadow, using her colouring to blend.

  The youngling spun about and rose up onto two legs in one motion, the claws of his hands ripping the air looking for his enemy’s eyes. Shima approved of his technique. He was quick and agile. He had instinctively gone for a crippling strike rather than risk a disembowelling move that could so easily have gone wrong and left him open to a counter.

  “Where... who?” he stammered searching the shadows.

  First lesson then, Shima decided. “Take a deep breath; roll the air over your tongue and you should scent me.”

  He peered into the shadows, not quite directly at Shima, ears swivelling constantly. Shima held her breath to make the lesson stick. He was forced to try for her scent, which he finally did. Shima knew the instant he had it. His mind glow would have told her, but it wasn’t that. He simply lowered himself to all fours again and looked into her eyes... or rather where her eyes should be if the shadows had revealed them. Shima decided he’d had enough for now and stepped forward.

  “I am Shima. You need help?”

  He obviously did. His harness had nothing useful on it. The holster she expected to see was there, but it did not contain a beamer. It was empty.

  “I... Merrick, my name is Merrick. I am,” he swallowed thickly. “I was going to be warrior caste next nameday, but Fleet is gone now. It must be don’t you think?”

  He had asked the question hoping she would refute him, but Fleet was obviously destroyed before the landings. Shima couldn’t imagine the Merkiaari trying to land their warriors before that was done. She knew he knew that as well as she did, but there was no need to destroy what little hope he had left.

  “We will rebuild Fleet bigger than ever after we win this new war. We did it before, we will again.”

  Merrick’s ears flicked agreement, but his face was grim. “The Murderers are hard to kill. I tried but... they captured us.” He looked down as if ashamed. “My parents and sibs. The aliens took our weapons.”

  Shima’s ears went back at that. Captured? Since when did Merki do anything but kill Shan? Why take prisoners, and do what with them once taken?

  “Are they dead?”

  “No!” Merrick snarled, his muzzle rumpling to reveal killing teeth. “Captured like I said. I snuck away... like a coward.”

  This was not her concern, Shima hurried to tell herself. This youngling could join Kazim under her protection, that would be no hardship really, but... she sighed. No, no, no she had to think of Chailen. She couldn’t get involved! She mustn’t only...

  “How long ago were they taken? How many Murderers? Which direction were they heading? How armed? Did they have a grav sled?” She heard herself saying, and railed at her foolishness.

  Shima prayed to the Harmonies that Merrick’s answers would make it easy to walk away, but it was cowardice to think like that. But Chailen... she had to get to the keep for Chailen and—but Chailen would be ashamed of her sib if she heard her thoughts. Shima couldn’t bear that. Her sib was all she had now. She mustn’t make Chailen ashamed of her, and so she had to help this youngling, right? Not for her own honour’s sake but for her sib? She told herself that Tahar would have understood that logic.

  “No sled and there were ten, all males carrying those mass drivers they use. It happened about a seg ago, and they made us walk back toward Zuleika.”

  “Just the mass drivers, no flamers or beamers?”

  “No, just the mass drivers but they were
more than enough. Including mine we had six beamers. They took us by surprise while we slept. Father was on watch. They... hit him, hurt him badly but he wasn’t dead!” Merrick hastened to add. “They carried him, so he must be alive. They wouldn’t carry him if he was dead would they?”

  Shima didn’t know but it seemed unlikely. Then again, taking prisoners seemed an unlikely thing for them to do as well. “They wouldn’t bother,” Shima assured him. “Come with me. I have a friend waiting not far from here.”

  Shima led the way back to Kazim and introduced Merrick. Kazim was pleased to have another person to film and question. Shima listened only absently to Merrick’s story a second time, but she noticed Kazim’s eyes gleaming as they watched her not Merrick.

  “What?” Shima said.

  “You have a plan to deal with this, I can tell.”

  She didn’t have a damn thing, but saying that wouldn’t help matters. “Don’t know what you mean.”

  “You plan to get Merrick’s family,” Kazim said and swung the camera back to Merrick in time to catch the youngling’s excited face. “Tell me I’m wrong.”

  “If you had bothered to bring a weapon, and if Merrick still had his, I might have risked it. With only me armed? It would be foolish.”

  “Yes,” Kazim agreed. “Foolish, but you are still going to do it. I can tell.”

  How? How did he read her stupidity so easily? Was it written upon her face that she was suicidal enough to try this? She scowled.

  “If I were to give my beamers to you, one each, can I count on your accuracy? How good a shot are you, Kazim?”

  “I scored in the nineties once,” Kazim said proudly. “Merkiaari are big targets. I won’t miss, I promise you.”

  Shima sighed. “I don’t want your best score. I want your average, as in what can you do consistently?”