“Pattee, you must enter the water if you wish to cleanse the past from your skin,” he said with a half-smile. He turned around and dove into the water beneath the fall, rinsing the suds from his unusual, feather-like hair.
I took off my suit, folding it next to my helmet, and did as he did, entering the water with my underthings on. I considered how I had been in the recent habit of following him everywhere he went. In a time of survival, it was good and wise to follow a guide. He never commanded me or forced me. I let my fingers trail in the water as I stared at my wavy dark legs and blurry feet that settled in soft sand. He led, wanting and expecting me to follow, but it was always my choice.
Hivelt had left a pile of black leaves at the shoreline, so I picked them up and inspected them.
They were leathery and scented like a combination of lemon and clove. I looked up to see Hivelt facing the two suns, his arms outspread, and chest thrust out. A faint breeze rustled his hair, and I could envision him lifting on black wings and flying into the sky, free. The idea made me smile. If I could follow him in flight, I would.
I dipped the leaves in the water, and they softened in my hand. I crumpled them and mashed them between my hands, creating soap bubbles.
Hivelt approached me but stopped about three feet away.
“The ritual begins with a prayer to the Goddesses of Shegoshel. But you have spoken of other Gods. Pray to your Gods that from this day forward, you will honor the new person you have become,” he said. “And then as you wash each limb, say these words: ‘I remove the filth of the past. I am ready to receive the gifts of the future.’” He demonstrated a downward stroke on each arm and down his chest, then nodded to me. “When you are ready, rinse and face the Shegoshel. They will bless you.”
“Thank you,” I said and began my own prayer.
Great Spirit. From this day forward, I will honor my new existence as a citizen of Ikthe, as a partaker of abundant gifts, and as a giver of thanks for all that You bestow upon me. If I am to be Hivelt’s heart mate, will you help me to honor the bond? And lastly, please forgive me for killing the men who took my dad away from me. I’m washing away the filth and stain it left on my spirit and my body.
“I remove the filth of the past. I am ready to receive the gifts of the future,” I said with every stroke of the soapy leaves. When I had scoured all my skin, I mimicked Hivelt and dove into the waterfall, rinsing and rising from the water, a new person.
Tears fell freely, but I didn’t wipe them away. I considered the Great Spirit might be cleansing my soul.
I closed my eyes and faced the afternoon suns, arms stretched wide. Instead of feeling like my wrists were bound and my back awaited lashing, I felt the kiss of the suns’ warmth on my skin. A brief memory of my father tossing me in a lake while I screamed with joy flashed in my mind, then it was gone.
The breeze whispered an anointing, and when I opened my eyes, Hivelt stood on the shore, already wearing his armor, and holding a cloth out for me to dry with.
I walked out of the water and grasped the towel from his clawed hand.
“Dusheshe,” I whispered, looking into his black and red eyes. Thank you.
He smiled, and his fangs revealed in a flash.
Neither he nor I spoke on our trek back to meet Naraxthel and Esra. Something sacred had transpired at the Cave of the Ancients for me, and he seemed to understand. Perhaps he had experienced a similar benediction from his Holy Goddesses.
For the first time in a long time, I no longer felt the loss of my father. In an unexpected way, I felt he were somehow here with me.
Thanks, Dad.
49
Our silence settled over me like a soft pelt on a winter’s night on Ikshe. I watched Pattee’s burdens lift away during her ritual. When the time was right, I would ask her if I could adorn her hair in Victory Braids. I longed to touch her skin. My lips ached to search her mouth. But no such affections would transpire until she assured me she was ready to be my heart mate, both soul and body. I was content to wait.
I sighed and scanned the moraine for nocturnal prowlers. Hivelt had other matters to consider, such as how to address Afarax’s mother with my newfound desire to teach my offspring to hunt. My jaw tightened. I doubted her mother would think it wise. But would Afarax want to? A half-smile broke my concentration. A child with snakes in her pockets would love to hunt. If only for snakes. Hivelt knew all the best spots in the Deadlands to find them. I huffed a laugh. It sounded like Afarax did, as well. I vowed to myself that after the corrupted queen was deposed, I would find Afarax and become for her what Pattee’s father had been: a guiding and teaching presence throughout her life. Failing in this was not acceptable.
I mulled over the political hurdles that must be crossed and groaned. “Naraxthel, it is Hivelt,” I said in my comms.
“Yes, Hivelt.”
“Where are you now?”
“We are two zatiks from Moon Shield,” he answered. “We will continue on if Esra allows me to carry her. She does not believe my arm is improved.”
“Very well. I will ask Pattee if she wants to travel through the night or make camp,” I said. “We are still six zatiks away, but we have yet to run. Any word from the BoKama?”
“I have had no word from her. We will meet at Moon Shield,” he said.
“Yes,” I replied and closed comms. I turned to find Pattee’s gaze, but she stared into the northwest sky. I tracked her gaze to a strange light.
“What is that?” she asked.
“Naraxthel, look to the northwest sky,” I said into my comms once more. “Raxthezana, heed the sky over the Black Heart Mountain range. What see you?”
Static buzzed in my comm.
“We see the lights, as well,” Naraxthel said in my ear.
“Hivelt, it is Raxthezana. A heavy fog rolled over Moon Shield,” he said. “We cannot see the sky. Take care to hide your presence from WarGuard ships.”
Kathe. If I employed my scanners, I may be detected by the Queen’s guard.
“Pattee, can VELMA tell us what these lights are?”
“I’m on it, Hivelt,” she told me. She cocked her head, as if listening.
“There has been a breach in the transospheric nanosatellite array,” VELMA said in my helmet. “I have identified it as an EEP X215. However, it is approaching the planet’s surface at an unsafe speed. Attempting to override local neural network from my nearest SLO nosecone satellite.”
My gaze shot to Pattee, who clutched her hands to her chest.
I reached her in a single stride and held her in my arms as we watched.
The reality of having a heart mate struck me with force as I felt Pattee’s pain as if it were my own. If VELMA was unable to control the pod’s landing, there would be many tears for me to consume, and I would be called upon to share the burden of her sadness.
I enfolded her tightly, as if to shield her from the pain, but I knew hers would spring from inside her own heart. My might and strength were not enough to protect her from it. I growled and willed the distant light to float gently to the planet’s surface.
50
“VELMA, do you need the override code? What can I do?” I asked, my heart in my throat.
“The pod’s neural network activated the scram nosecone protocol,” VELMA said. “I need to access the onboard controls. Standby.”
I clutched at Hivelt’s arms as I used my helmet’s camera zoom to focus on the lights.
One of the lights had burnt out in the sky, but the brightest inched toward the mountain. I suspected the first light had been the nosecone entering Super Low Orbit, and the second would be the EEP, barreling at 17,300 mph when it hit Ikthe’s atmosphere. It needed to bleed off speed before it landed, or the entire pod would disintegrate upon impact—rumors about its ability to fly into the sun notwithstanding.
Hyper focused, everything around me dimmed. I pictured the exploded schematics of the EEP X215 in my mind. “VELMA, how fast is the pod traveling?” Hivelt’s a
rms around me kept me grounded where my heart wanted to beat out of my chest.
“The ionosphere’s friction slowed the pod’s speed to 853 mph according to the nanosatellite barrier through which it passed,” VELMA announced.
“We need to reduce it to 320 mph at least.” My brain raced through landing speed physics. “VELMA, have you accessed the controls yet?”
“There is a problem accessing the insulated buffer trap on the EEP,” VELMA said, her calm intonation juxtaposing my own rising panic. “The nosecone is not responding to my integrative neural network initiative.”
“Dammit,” I whispered. Tears sprang to my eyes. “Is the miner conscious?”
“Pinging the miner’s helmet communication device,” VELMA said. “Miner is in cryo-sleep mode. All vitals normal.”
“VELMA, use the miner’s helmet to wirelessly access the flight console,” I said, an idea cresting the wave of my anxiety.
“Rerouting. Console accessed,” VELMA said. “Emergency landing protocol activated.”
Tendons in my throat stretched to their maximum. My shoulders felt like iron infused with Galvanite. “Speed?”
“436 mph and decelerating,” VELMA said. “Impact in twenty-five seconds.”
“No,” I said. “No.” I rotated the schematics in my head. How was the pod oriented? What happened to the insulated buffer trap? I needed more time.
The pod needed to create drag. Friction. Surface area.
“Deploy the baffle floats,” I said, my terror for the miner at peak.
“According to data from the nanosatellite array, the pod will not impact with water, Pattee,” VELMA said.
“Is the chute open?” I asked.
“Affirmative.”
“Deploy the damn baffle floats, VELMA!”
“Deploying,” she said. “Impact in Three. Two. One.”
51
I listened to Pattee shout orders to her technology while watching the violet and white light grow ever closer to the mountain. The Black Heart Mountain was many days’ journey from here. Soon, the little ship would disappear behind the mountain. We would not know if the human had survived until we traveled there, unless VELMA could communicate with the occupant.
The light extinguished behind the mountain’s ragged teeth.
I held my breath, awaiting a cloud of smoke or signs of an explosion.
Pattee stiffened in my arms, then she sagged.
I held her and sank to the ground.
“The pod hit,” she said. “I don’t know if …”
I used one hand to detach my helmet. Then I took hers. I let my nose drift through her long black hair before taking her face in my hands. With our helmets close enough to translate, I spoke. “Joaxma, we will travel to Black Heart,” I said. “I have seen the ships and the suits of your people.” I pinched the fabric of her suit at her shoulder. “Your people have designed materials to withstand great danger. I have faith this new human yet lives.”
Her silver eyes filled with tears and spilled faster than I could track them with my eyes. I swiped her cheek with my thumbs. The tears continued to fall.
“I designed that ship,” she said, pointing in the distance. “If the miner didn’t survive, then it’s my fault.” Her gaze searched mine as her brows met in a crease. “Maybe the Great Spirit is punishing me for …”
I placed a claw on her lips. “You are a new human, Pattee.” I cleansed the tears from her face with my hands, but a lone droplet sat to the right of the bow of her lips. I leaned forward and touched it with my tongue. Salt, savory, and full fractured across my taste buds. She tasted of Ikshe. Of home. I leaned away, watching her reaction. I saw the tik in which her doubt galvanized into resolve.
“A new person,” she whispered, nodding. Her eyes shone when she looked at me. “We’ll go. We’ll find them, and it’s going to be okay.”
“Yes, Pattee.”
We replaced our helmets, the memory of her taste in my mouth. Would that we had more time to explore one another. She had not rejected my careful kiss. But now her expression was one of pain and stark fear. I imagined her fellow human was similarly affected.
“Naraxthel, how is Esra?” I asked.
“She demands we hasten to the crash site,” Naraxthel said over comms.
“What of Raxthezana and the others?” I asked.
“We will travel when the fog lifts,” Raxthezana said in my ear. A shout from his group. Arguing.
“Raxkarax prefers to continue onward to the under-mountain passageways,” he said. “Natheka would aid in looking for the human. Naraxthel, you are the leader of our expedition. What say you?”
“Hold,” he said, and the clamoring from my brothers ceased. “We defy the Ikma Scabmal Kama with every footstep, no?”
A chorus of ik chimed through my comm.
“Let us defy her again by strengthening our numbers by one more human,” he said. “I find the humans to be resourceful, brave, and intelligent.”
I imagined Naraxthel gazing at his Esra the way I stared at Pattee’s upturned face even now.
“Ik,” I said. “And beautiful.”
Shouts pierced my comms once more.
Raxthezana growled in my ear. “Keep your fairytales to yourself, Hivelt.”
“It is no fairytale,” I said with a humorless chuckle. “Pattee Crow Flies is my heart mate.”
The silence stretched for a rotik.
“Very well,” Raxthezana agreed. “We will leave Moon Shield when the fog lifts.”
“Let us meet at the eastern face of Black Heart,” Naraxthel said. “Perhaps the lee of the brae on Grey Hill where the wind falls silent.”
“Ik,” Raxthezana said. “When we meet, we will divide stores and plan our path. As you know, we cannot scale Black Heart.”
“Agothe-fax Tunnel is the quickest route,” I said. “And deadliest.”
One of my brothers grunted.
“We will decide when we are together,” Naraxthel said.
Esra’s voice spoke through our comms. “We could have VELMA contact the BoKama through private channels. We need to get there as soon as possible.”
“Speed is paramount,” Naraxthel agreed. “If BoKama can help us, she will.”
“On it,” Esra said.
We said our goodbyes.
Pattee took my hand. “They’re all going to help us?”
“Yes.” I looked toward the black scar lancing the sky that was the ridge of Black Heart Mountain. “We will travel through the night. Tell me when you cannot go another step, and I will carry you.”
“So tender,” a feminine voice entered my comm. “But tactically stupid.”
“BoKama?” I asked.
Pattee shot a look to me.
“I was already on my way when the VELMA technology sent me the alert. I’ll land in a few tiks,” BoKama said in my ear. “Then we can pick up the others.”
A grim smile played on my face as I scanned the black sky for BoKama’s ship. I didn’t see it, but I felt the rumble and pressure in my ears when it landed several veltiks away. BoKama had her cloaking device engaged.
Naraxthel had told us BoKama was an ally, yet I stood in front of Pattee when BoKama’s ship shimmered into view under the scant light of the moon.
She deactivated her camouflage.
I watched for Pattee’s reaction to seeing the ship and BoKama’s exit on the lowered ramp. Pattee was nonplussed.
A glow of pride swelled in my chest.
BoKama wore her light armor, a sheen of purple glinting from the solid pieces that joined at the creases of her arms and legs. The sisters’ armor did not attach to their bodies with Shel as the hunters’ did.
BoKama approached and dipped her head at my heart mate.
“I am the BoKama of Planet Ikshe,” she said. “I co-command these hunters. Have you met the others?”
Pattee dipped her head as well, mimicking BoKama. “Only Naraxthel. Not the others,” Pattee said. “They sound strong and brave.”
“They are indeed,” BoKama said. “I have been monitoring communications with Naraxthel’s permission. And now one of your kind is in danger. Shall we travel to the human?”
Pattee’s posture relaxed a fraction. “Please, yes.”
“Let us make haste, then,” BoKama said. “Enter my ship. We will collect the others in a few tiks.”
We entered BoKama’s ship, spacious for interplanetary travel, but she was the BoKama.
Pattee strapped herself in next to my seat.
BoKama piloted with ease. “The Ikma Scabmal Kama is unsettled,” she said. “I will give a full report when all are gathered. Suffice to say, our rescue mission will be brief, as I will be returning to Ikshe soon.”
“Thank you for doing this,” Pattee said.
I noted strain in her voice and reached for her hand
She squeezed mine with great strength.
***
Naraxthel and Esra entered the ship.
The females greeted one another with their fists again, but Esra stooped down to embrace Pattee, then sat next to her, and strapped in without further ceremony.
Naraxthel and I met stares. Now, we were connected on a deeper level.
I nodded at him, and he at me.
The ship surged.
We landed at Moon Shield not long after collecting Naraxthel and Esra.
“I would see my brothers,” I told Pattee and unstrapped to leave the ship. I noticed she and Esra held hands. “It will be a jotik.”
Raxthezana, Natheka, and Raxkarax waited by a smoking fire where racks of meat dried.
“My brothers.” I knelt before each one in turn with my head bowed. No other words were spoken. At last I rose, and they held their hands out to me. I clasped each one, and we pierced the skin of our palms.
“I knew you were alive,” Natheka said. “You are too stubborn to die on this planet. When you enter the eternal fields of Shegoshel, it will be because you have choked on a glisten-fish!” The others laughed, but I scowled.
“Then I shall live forever,” I said. “Glisten-fish haven’t crossed my lips since we arrived on Ikthe.”
Tracked on Predator Planet (Predator Planet Series) Page 25
