Tracked on Predator Planet (Predator Planet Series)

by Vicky L. Holt.

  “I know.” I licked my lips. “I have a plan.” I appreciated Red’s trust, but he could handle two rokhural without breaking a sweat. I couldn’t hold off six, as much as I would love to. But I could lead them on a merry chase back into the woods from where they had emerged.

  “I’m going to draw them back to the trees,” I said, risking Red’s censure.

  No reply. And then … “Clever traveler,” he said.

  I sucked my lips for a second and then raised my weapon. “The blood of my enemies!” I said with force. A wry smile twisted my lips for a second when I realized that I had picked up the rhythm of his speech and his lust for battle in the short time we’d been together. I sprinted, catching the gaze of all six rokhural.

  The nearest one had to turn at an awkward angle to give chase, so I put on a burst of speed and entered the trees, looking for a treefall or a stand of tightly woven trunks from which to defend myself.

  I heard Red’s embattled grunts. My run must have spurred others into action.

  I didn’t turn to watch him, but I kept on my mission, spotting a place I might dive and roll. I tore through the underbrush and obscured myself in the bower. It was a massive tangle of fallen trunks, none of them bearing the telltale vertical split I knew to be killer trees. As I remembered, the huge reptiles had difficulty maneuvering in the ikfal. Which begged the question: why were they in there to begin with?

  I hid, and the storming rokhural worked their way toward where they thought I was. Their powerful limbs could scratch and tear at the dead trees and brush where I hid, but so far, they hadn’t found me.

  I wanted to know how Red was doing, but I wouldn’t distract him with questions. I listened to his grunts and gasps, imagining his parrying thrusts and stabbing strokes.

  I peered between thick layers of leaves. I couldn’t hear the rokhural anymore. Had they given up? “VELMA, can you use the array to find me? Can you tell me where the rokhural are?”

  “Standby,” she said. “Unfortunately, heat signature is ineffective, and infrasound scan must be within range of my neural network. SLO 2 will approach in fifty-seven minutes.”

  “That doesn’t help me.”

  A powerful push hit me from behind, and I screamed, rolling out of the way of the rokhura that had found my hiding place and bitten a huge section of bracken from my bower.

  It dove in after me, its massive jaws indiscriminate of stumps, dirt, and branches.

  I scrambled away from its teeth and found my feet, rising to run. Having drawn them away from Red, I hoped I had given him time to kill the two guarding the cenote.

  “VELMA, direct me to Red.”

  “Complying.”

  His location popped up in my IntraVisor. With a stomping reptile tearing through the treefall behind me, I headed once again out into the open. I couldn’t see or hear the others. I broke through the trees and saw Red standing over two dead rokhural. I aimed for him and flew, racing the one at my back.

  Red strode toward me. “Behind me, Esra!”

  I ran past him and turned, horror filling my gaze.

  Seven rokhural approached us, not counting the one just now emerging from the trees that had chased me.

  I unlatched my multi-tool; I needed every possible advantage now.

  “You are smart and brave,” Red said without looking at me. “I will be proud to raise mighty hunters and sisters beside you.”

  Even standing at death’s door, he could make me blush. “Do you think it’s possible?”

  We watched the reptiles advance and talked about genetic compatibility. I shook my head.

  “The Goddesses showed me our child in a vision,” he said.

  I almost dropped my weapon.

  The nearest dinosaur was within eight yards.

  “When we’re done here, I want to know more about this so-called vision,” I said.

  “As you desire, Esra. Now, let us prepare for peaceful slumber.”

  I swallowed and stood tall.

  The closest one attacked.

  Red roared and met its ferocious lunge with his drawn sword. Electricity shimmered over his armor. The clash drove the rokhura back, but a second one approached on my side.

  I didn’t have the reach that Red had, but I used my size against it, crouching low so it had to stretch close to the ground. With a harsh cry, I swiped at its sac right as it billowed out.

  Whether with dumb luck or a precision strike, rich, black blood flowed, and the rokhura stumbled to the ground.

  I danced aside, managing to miss being flattened by a scant foot, if that.

  No time to celebrate, as a third lunged at me.

  I heard Red lashing at his own foes.

  The third one hesitated, its nostrils flaring at the scent of its brother’s blood.

  Perhaps I could entice it to begin devouring its companion. I stayed near the fallen beast, trying to lure it closer to the scent of the blood soaking into the ground.

  Its attention was divided between the carcass and me, its head swayed back and forth.

  On a hunch, I reached down and hacked off a chunk of flesh from the dead one. I slapped my tool back on my leg, picked up the hunk of meat, and launched it at the reptile like it was a giant dog. The meat missile flew toward its maw and whizzed past its nose.

  It scented the meat but kept its eyes riveted on me.

  I cursed and held my sword with both hands.

  It lunged at me, snapping its jaws.

  I had to flick my sword, or it would have seized my weapon. I crouched again and edged closer to the dead body. “Come on, eat your buddy,” I urged it. Desperate, I bathed my sword in the blood and smeared it across me. I wanted the scent to drive it mad with hunger. I took a breath and jumped up on one of the limbs.

  My enemy darted at me again and again, just missing with each snap of its jaws.

  After the seventh such maneuver, I realized two things: it was doing it on purpose, and I was tiring. I couldn’t keep it up.

  The sound of Red’s blade sinking into rokhura flesh kept me going, but my muscles ached.

  By now, I was perched on the left flank of the dead beast, much closer to my enemy’s head. If its sac were within reach, I could fell it, but it evaded my every strike, and came at me from different directions.

  A fourth reptile galloped toward me.

  My heart sank. I could never fight two off at once. There was no way I was crying and begging Red for help, though. He had battles of his own.

  A final thrust toward me and the beast’s snout knocked me backward.

  I screamed and rolled over, sliding off the dead body, and hitting the ground with a thud.

  At last, they noticed their dead brother, and I watched in repulsive horror as they bit into the dead flesh and tore off huge bites.

  “Esra!”

  Red’s voice startled me. I looked up to see yet another rokhura head in my direction, and its attention was on me, not the meal. I stumbled to my feet and strove to lift my sword. My muscles screamed at me in protest. I couldn’t. I couldn’t do it. I looked over at Red and saw his left arm hanging useless at his side.

  Three dead rokhural piled near him, but two more parried and lunged at him.

  “Oh God or Goddesses,” I whispered. “Somebody.”

  And then Hivelt broke out of the woods with two wicked-looking swords aloft, shouting and roaring.

  He was too late. The rokhura bent on attacking me sprang at me from several yards away.

  I watched in awe and defeat as it leaped to devour me, its huge maw so wide I could see the slimy spike ridges halfway down its throat. I stared into the black hole, paralyzed.

  Out of nowhere, a javelin drove into the rokhura’s throat sac, splitting it like a seam ripper. I stumbled back and watched the rokhura drop dead to the ground right in front of me, its blood splashing a design on my visor.

  When I looked to see where the javelin had come from, I saw a tall, dark, human woman, with an identical flight suit, and her
arm raised post-throw.

  Pattee Crow Flies.

  42

  There was no time to celebrate. The two feasting on their kin might not be distracted for long, Hivelt battled a rogue reptile, and Naraxthel’s fight was touch and go.

  “Esra!” I called to her. “To Naraxthel!”

  She nodded and ran toward him.

  We joined the fray, our weapons singing in the wind.

  “Try to hamstring them,” Esra’s voice popped in my helmet.

  We flanked the reptiles and slashed at their hind legs.

  Naraxthel rallied, and soon Hivelt joined us as well.

  Between the four of us, we were able to harass the reptiles until they collapsed, and Naraxthel and Hivelt delivered the killing blows.

  The living rokhural, having glutted themselves on their fallen comrades, ignored us and disappeared down into a cenote.

  We studied the killing field around us, each gasping for breath.

  Esra approached Naraxthel. They whispered to one another.

  Hivelt joined me. “I called you Joaxma before we met,” he said.

  I cocked my head. “Joaxma?”

  “It means little builder,” he said. “But my name for you was inaccurate.”

  “How so?”

  “I should have called you Mighty Huntress. Ikthema Raxthel.” He prodded my sword arm.

  “That’s a bit of a mouthful,” I said. “Pattee is fine.” I smiled at him.

  Naraxthel and Esra approached. “The nesting site is below,” Naraxthel said. “Let us travel far from here.”

  “Our brethren hunt the region about Moon Shield,” Hivelt said. “I told them we would meet them there.”

  Naraxthel nodded and folded Esra into his good arm. “We will head north, then.” He turned to me. “I owe you a debt of gratitude for preserving the life of my heart mate.” He dipped his helmet to me.

  “You would have done the same.” I glanced at Hivelt before I realized my mistake. A keen eye could interpret my glance to mean something I wasn’t sure I did. I cleared my throat. “I’m Pattee Crow Flies. And you are Naraxthel and Esra?”

  They nodded.

  “Did you know Esra before?” he asked.

  Esra smiled at me. Her face was wan, though, and I noticed she had a white-knuckled death grip on Naraxthel’s good arm. She worried about him, judging by the way she leaned into him, and kept stealing glances at his helmet, and scrutinizing his armor.

  A wash of tenderness flowed through me, witnessing her love and concern for the mammoth being at her side. Was that what it meant then, to be a heart mate to one of these big guys? I swallowed the little lump in my throat.

  “We haven’t met before now,” I said and returned her smile. “But I’m sure we’ll be great friends.”

  “Let’s go,” she said with a nervous glance toward the cenote.

  We began our hike after I retrieved my javelin.

  Hivelt fell into step beside me but said nothing.

  I kept searching the landscape. With the jungle at our backs, as well as the mysterious underground cave, I wasn’t sure how safe we were traversing the wide plain before us. “What other predators roam your planet?”

  “You have bested the rokhural,” Hivelt said. “And you have survived the talathel serpent, shegoshe-tax cat, and pazathel-nax wolf, not to mention the tree thief.” He looked ahead, toward the distant black mountain range. “In the cave tunnels live the agothe-faxl. Esra has fought them.”

  Esra looked back at us. “When we set up camp, I’ll tell you all about it. I hope you’re not squeamish about creepy-crawlies. Spiders, scorpions, crabs … that kind of thing.”

  Hivelt made an odd choking noise, and I shot him a look. He hadn’t seen me in the stream …? Oh crap. He had spied on me for how many days? He must have.

  I resisted the urge to elbow him. “If I am, I’ll get over it,” I said. “We have a lot of catching up to do, Esra.” I smiled at her, but also let my eyes drift to her arm entwined with Naraxthel’s.

  She laughed. “That we do. And Pattee?” Her gaze was intense. “Thank you.”

  I dipped my head. “Anytime.”

  She laughed again. “Ah. On this planet, that’s a promise, not just a friendly rejoinder.”

  “Duly noted.”

  A death planet. Alien species. AI sidekick. Human traveling companion. I had never felt more at home.

  43

  We sat around a small fire many veltiks away from the nesting grounds on a vast graveled plain; Esra called it a ‘moraine’. We called it the Plain of Ancient Ice. We were careful not to look into the flames, as it would affect our night vision. The four of us often looked out onto the plain, alert for signs of danger.

  “Naraxthel, how is your arm?” I asked.

  We were away from the nesting grounds, so it was time to put Esra’s heart at ease. She fussed over Naraxthel as if he were a youngling.

  “It will knit,” he said without looking back at me.

  “Does Esra understand the nature of our armor?” I gave a sideways glance to Pattee. Ah, her interest was piqued.

  “What do you mean?” Esra asked.

  I chuckled.

  “Do you want to explain, Naraxthel, or shall I?”

  “Please speak on, Hivelt,” Naraxthel said. “I spent some time thinking you were in the valley of the Mountain of Eternal Death. It gives me great pleasure to hear your living voice.”

  I cocked my head and furrowed my brow.

  Was he mocking me? But he gestured I should go on.

  I cleared my voice. “We wear living armor, humans.” I patted my chest piece. “Each panel hosts thousands of … ah … VELMA does not have a translation. We call the barbed tendrils Shel. It is … sun-worms of many lives? They burrow into our skin and transport their living chemicals into our bodies. Likewise, they feed from our bodies. We transmit essence to one another.”

  I watched the females’ faces: raised brows and quirked mouths shifting in the firelight.

  “Tell them about the rain,” Naraxthel said.

  “Our armor absorbs rain and humidity from the air to supply further sustenance to the Shel.” I caressed an arm panel. “In exchange, lightning dances across its surface. It gives us energy and power.”

  Esra looked at Naraxthel. She spoke. “Naraxthel was burned. He couldn’t remove his armor for several days. What were the Shel doing?”

  “Ah,” I said and cocked my head at Naraxthel. Events had transpired for the both of us that we knew nothing about. “His Shel would have burrowed deep inside his muscles to nourish them until they could heal.”

  “Are they going to heal your arm?” Esra asked him, concern pitching her voice high.

  “Even as we speak, dear one,” he said, a tender catch in his voice.

  My heart squeezed once again. I clenched my jaw and looked away. Unfortunately, my gaze landed on Pattee, who stared at me with unapologetic curiosity.

  The squeezing and cramping in my heart-home persisted.

  I coughed and rose to standing. “I need a moment.” I walked away from the fire, replacing my helmet as I did so.

  Naraxthel’s voice entered my comm.

  “Is it your heart-home?” he asked.

  I stopped, looking over the sea of black with countless stars above. “It is.”

  Silence a tik.

  “I do not know what sets it in motion,” Naraxthel said. “And the pain, when it begins, the permanent transition is … let us say that you will become more familiar with the halls of your dream place.”

  I grunted. Already had I tasted of it.

  “But what I feel for Esra cannot be explained or understood by the language of Theraxl,” he said. “Maybe the Goddesses of Shegoshel have the words. I will walk into the flames and back again for her every day.”

  I grunted.

  “Does Pattee know of the heart-home?” he asked.

  “No. I saw no need to explain at first,” I said. “And I am loath to try now. What am
I to tell her? She is my gift from the Shegoshel, and she has no vote? I will let it rest. Perhaps my heart-home will change its inclinations.”

  Naraxthel sighed in my ear. “For your sake, I hope it does not. I suspect Pattee will be more receptive than you guess.”

  I grunted. “I thought it was a myth,” I said. “A silly story told to the sisters.”

  “As did I,” he said. “BoKama gave us her blessing.”

  My head shot up. “BoKama?”

  “Ah, there is much to tell. Come back to the fire. I found the pain ebbed after a few jotiks. At least, at first.”

  “Very well.”

  I walked back to the fire, running my glove down my chest.

  I caught Esra watching me, and her mouth turned up at one corner. She looked away and bit her mouth. Kathe. She knew.

  I sat without ceremony and removed my helmet. With the combination of the others’ helmets and Naraxthel and Esra translating, we would communicate with ease.

  Naraxthel began. “Pattee, what do you know of our culture?”

  She nodded and looked at me first. “The Ikma Scabmal Kama is your queen, and she rules with one called BoKama?”

  I nodded, proud she remembered.

  “And the females stay on the safe planet while the males come here to hunt for meat.”

  Naraxthel and Esra laughed.

  “I could not explain it better, Pattee Crow Flies,” Naraxthel said. “Hivelt, during your absence, the BoKama landed on Ikthe and approached me to see if I was willing to aid her in deposing the Ikma.” He paused and watched me.

  I growled. “The Ikma has much to answer the Goddesses for.” I stared at each member of our party. “I played my part and am ready to make amends to the Goddesses.”

  “All of us played a part in allowing the Ikma to rule in corruption,” Naraxthel said. “When we meet with the others, we will further our plans. Until then, BoKama may be considered our greatest ally. We are expecting her to join us soon, though she cannot give us precise times.”

  I nodded. “It is well,” I said. “The Goddesses reveal great change on the horizon for Ikthe. Can you feel it?”