Hunted on Predator Planet

by Vicky L Holt

  “Natheka and Raxkarax,” I called to them. “Butcher the meat we can carry.” They nodded and began the foul job.

  As the rest of the pack was still preoccupied with its meal, we trailed the grass-eater and its rider, a slower pace allowing us to keep a wary eye out for other predators. Down the hill, through the meadow, and then toward the traveler’s vehicle.

  None of us spoke. Natheka and Raxkarax joined us with their full packs of meat. We all glanced at one another, wondering what would be accomplished next.

  A more awkward encounter with another race was never seen.

  My brethren and I shared looks and watched the female stand and ride. We reached the clearing where her ship stood, tiny and proud. She pulled up on the beast’s ears, and it stopped.

  We approached the front of the beast. She gazed at us.

  “Yubrotyurfrenz.” Her voice pleased me. It was amplified from inside her helmet.

  I did not know this greeting, but she addressed me. She recognized me. My heart thumped against its chamber with great force, bringing me great alarm and confusion. I did not speak.

  “Du jax za talajofal,” Hivelt said with surprise in his voice. You ride the grass-eater.

  She stared at us a moment. Then, as if remembering where she stood, her face crumpled in horror. It was clear she did not know how to dismount the creature. We couldn’t help her. The grass-eater stood still. She still had its ears grasped in the one hand.

  Her brows lifted as she met my eyes.

  I mimed she should let go of the ears.

  I studied her eyes, so like a pale lake jewel. She nodded. Our first communication. My chest swelled as she stared at me and dropped the ears.

  The talajofal didn’t move. Her face relaxed.

  Her mouth moved, but we heard nothing.

  Then she gestured to her vehicle behind us. I noticed a panel open in its side and a long metallic pole extend. I walked to the pole and grasped it. It released from the vehicle and I approached the animal cautiously. I peered up at the female, and she held her hand out for the pole.

  I leaned it toward her and she took it, shaking her head and moving her mouth.

  I wanted her to remove the helmet. I wanted to hear her voice again, even though I didn’t know her language. Or her race. Or her home world.

  She grasped her hands around the pole about one-sixth of the way from the top, then jumped.

  We stood astonished, as she vaulted off the grass-eater, using the pole for balance. She landed in a crouch, just south of us and nearer her vehicle.

  My lips rose in a smile. Clever female. She now had a weapon and a bunker.

  She stood, leaning as if to rest on her metal pole. I knew better.

  “She’s a clever one,” Hivelt spoke my thought aloud. “She has a weapon now.”

  “And her ship. She could leave at any moment,” Raxthezana said.

  “No,” I said quietly. She watched our mouths carefully, as if to decipher our language. “If she could have left, she would have already.”

  “Her little ship will not have enough fuel to break through the atmosphere,” Natheka said. “She is stuck on Ikthe.”

  “Aren’t we all?” Hivelt muttered. The others didn’t hear him.

  When we didn’t make any move toward her, she relaxed her stance. She used one hand to reach behind her helmet.

  She removed it, and my heart and heart-home sang together. She wore her braids. Too late, I saw my error. Hivelt leaped and grabbed her, holding her against him with one huge arm, and gesturing to me with his other. “What is the meaning of this?”

  29

  “VELMA,” I croaked. “Do you have any idea what they’re saying?”

  The last time a man held me like this, it didn’t end well for me.

  The huge one almost had me by the throat, but he couldn’t squeeze because of the inflexible axial ring that connected my helmet to my suit proper. My feet were dangling, and my ride had wandered away without so much as a by-your-leave. Thanks a lot, Snuffle-upa-gus. And I could feel the blood thumping across my chest and shoulders where the alien had me in a vice grip. Breathe, Esra. I took a deep breath, and the sweltering stinky air burned my throat. I had both hands gripping the huge metal-encased arm across me, and I flailed my legs, trying to reach the solid ground beneath. Images of Chris’s bullying flitted across my mind.

  “I cannot translate at this time,” VELMA announced from my helmet that lay at the big alien’s feet.

  I let my eyes plead with the red-armored alien. The one who I guessed had braided my hair. I recognized his helmet and armor color. They all wore ferocious helmets, but they were all different. Customized. They were equal in their menacing construction, but that red armor? I’d remember it anywhere. I gasped when he lifted his arms to remove his helmet. Oh. Mica. Galvanite. I was going to see his face.

  “VELMA, did you find out what race this is yet?” I squeaked. “Did you download the language? A little help here?”

  The muffled voice said, “I do not have access to that information.”

  His entire armor was angular with sharp edges like the F-117 Stealth fighters of a few centuries ago. (Got an A in my Ancient Aerodynamic Mechanisms class.) His helmet came off, and I saw the most amazing and terrifying eyes of my life. They were black with a bright-golden ring around a blood-red iris. I saw no pupils, just the red. His skin possessed the texture of shark skin, but it was a sage green. He had no beard but a wide square jaw and at least two big incisors. Okay, fangs. He had fangs. His cheekbones were high and angular, just under his eyes, and his sleek brows slanted away from his eyes, almost like a bird of prey. His nose was humanoid, but sharp and hawkish with two nostrils. His ears were obscured by long, greenish-brown hair fronds—I didn’t know what else to call them. It was like hair, but also like palm leaves. The fronds fluttered about his head when the wind blew. He had a thick neck, and I could just make out the musculature of his shoulders before his armor covered everything else. In a word, he was beautiful.

  I blinked away some moisture gathering in my eyes as I regarded the alien. “Will you help me?”

  The big guy holding me spoke first. “Du rax za Ikma yashezaza … bu za Yasheza Mahavelt?” He flipped my braids when he said it.

  Oh snap. Was my potential ally in trouble for the hair? I had considered letting the big hairy beast carry me all the way into the forest and leaving my pod camouflaged. But I took a gamble these guys weren’t going to kill first and ask questions later. Now I was sweating it. Even if the red one wasn’t going to kill me, maybe the braids were a bad idea for some cultural reason I wasn’t privy to. I needed to make them understand.

  “He was being nice! I was almost dead!” I wished I could see the others’ expressions, but … helmets. I had another idea. I snaked a hand under his arm and up my chest and unfastened the front of my suit.

  Day three or four? My bruise was hideous. I bared my chest, where the black and blue had turned purplish and greenish and … it was a mess. I had inspected it when I bathed earlier.

  “See this? I almost died!” I pointed to the red-armored guy. “He saved me!”

  I had no idea if they were understanding my message, but the big one loosened his hold.

  My friend took a step toward me, holding out his hand. His deep frown spoke volumes. His eyes flashed. He said some harsh-sounding words, and then the big one let me down.

  I stumbled to the red one’s side, not wanting to give the big guy a second chance to put me in a chokehold. I didn’t stand too close to the red one, but I gave him the side-eye. He spared me a short glance. I tried to gauge the mood. Were they going to fight? The assortment of weapons in just this circle of aliens could rival a platoon back home. I observed their hands, a couple of them poised near hilts. The blood drained from my face, and my extremities trembled. I needed an ally. The red one stared at his companions but laid a huge, steady hand on my shoulder. I could feel my pulse slow at the gesture.

  To think just a fe
w days ago he was going to put my head on a pike. I practiced a relaxation breathing technique, but couldn’t help darting my gaze at all of them. Which one might snap? Who was most dangerous to me?

  When I noticed a couple of the other guys were eyeballing my abdomen and gray sports bra, I zipped up my suit again.

  The red one rumbled deep in his throat. Then he spoke some more harsh words. It sounded like they used the “ex” sound an awful lot. I wanted to know what they were saying to each other.

  I watched the other ones. Their postures relaxed. The big one dropped his hands. Okay. My ally made some progress. I hesitated. Was it time for introductions?

  I studied all of them, but I could only see Red’s expressions. As long as no one was holding a weapon, I had to assume they weren’t going to attack me.

  “Hey, oh hey, hi, um.” I waved my hands at them all when I started talking. They moved in closer. Sweat was pouring off me at this point. I was going to need another bath after this. “My name is Esra.” I put my open hand on my chest and met their eyes in turn. I patted my chest for emphasis. “Esra.”

  Red put his hand on his chest. “Naraxthel Roika.”

  The others showed some surprise or disapproval. I couldn’t begin to guess what kind of cultural nuances I was missing. I puzzled up my eyebrows at him. “Naraxthel?” I whispered. He gave a curt nod.

  I turned to the next one in line expectantly. He shuffled his big boots. I raised my eyebrows.

  He glanced at the others and spoke. “Iktheka.”

  “That wasn’t so hard, was it?” I smiled at him and nodded. Turned to the next.

  “Iktheka.”

  “Um,” I turned to the first guy. “I thought you were Iktheka?” He scowled. The second one with the barrel chest scowled, too.

  I pointed to the third.

  “Iktheka.”

  “Oh, for Pete’s sake,” I said, throwing my hands in the air. “You guys are jerking me around, aren’t you?” I shook my head and put my hands on my hips. “This is not the second grade, Mr. I P FREELY.” I scrutinized the first guy, the one with the helmet that resembled a lion. I frowned right back at him and stared him down.

  He stared right back.

  Oh ho, I could do this all day. Jackass. I folded my arms. I heard Red chuckle behind me. I held a straight face.

  Finally, the big one with the black lion helmet lifted it off his head.

  I took a step back. He had the same features as Red, but different. Bigger. More fronds. Darker eyes. Longer lashes. And he showed all of his teeth. Uh. Fangs. Long fangs. I quivered.

  “Hivelt,” his deep voice growled. “Iktheka Hivelt.”

  He told me his name. And apparently it was a big deal, and apparently, I should address him as Iktheka. For the sake of interplanetary relations? I could do that.

  “Thank you,” I said, dipping my head. “Iktheka.”

  Then the next one did the same. He lifted his helmet that was reminiscent of that shark-thing in the lake, with lots of emblazoned teeth, a dark-gray color, and blunt snout. With his helmet off, I saw his skin was a darker green, and his eyes a less-intense red. He was burly and hard-edged. He spoke with a frown. “Raxthezana. Iktheka Raxthezana.”

  “Iktheka,” I said, bowing my head a little.

  The third guy lifted his helmet along with the fourth. I frowned at them. The third one was reminiscent of a dire wolf, which was terrifying. And the fourth one? An awful lot like that spider that about killed me. I took another tiny step back.

  Wolf-armor spoke. “Natheka.” He was leaner than the others. Like a runner-version of the alien race.

  I raised an eyebrow when he didn’t add the prefix. “Iktheka Natheka?” I pronounced, hoping I wasn’t butchering it. He smiled. I exhaled.

  And finally, Spider-armor. He was as tall as Red, but thicker around the middle and sported longer hair fronds.

  “Raxkarax,” he said, then turned to Red. “Yasheza Mahavelt hicon Ikthekal bu ropazathelvelt Shegoshel.”

  “VELMA, did you catch that?”

  A muffled reply.

  I held up a finger and retrieved my helmet. When I turned back around, I noticed everyone but Red had their hands on their hilts. Oh geez. Like I was any kind of a threat to them at all.

  I held the opening toward my ear, so I could hear VELMA’s response.

  “Can you repeat that?”

  “I am cataloguing the language. I should have a working translation in seventy-two hours. The more of their language I hear, the better I will be at translating.”

  “Thanks.”

  Red spoke in harsh tones and shook his head, no. I marveled that nodding and shaking were universal symbols. Yes and no. Life and death. Black and white. It gave me some hope we might be able to communicate. From what I could guess, Naraxthel didn’t like Rax’s suggestion. And he was very vocal about it. And gesturing with his clawed hands. Wait. Were those clawed gloves? Or actual clawed hands? I swallowed. The sweat continued to pour down the back of my neck. I kind of wanted to replace my helmet and escape the stifling heat and powerful odor of overripe vegetation, but I felt like every move I made would be scrutinized and suspect.

  The one who smiled at me, what was his name? Nath—something. I’d call him Nathan. He sided with Red, judging by body language.

  Hivelt, I could remember because he was so tall, you know, high in the air. Hivelt. He agreed with Rax.

  So, shark-face with the long name I couldn’t remember had the deciding vote. I tried to swallow but my mouth was too dry. I offered him a small smile and raised my brows. Tried to look as non-threatening as possible. But then I realized the combined weight of their helmets alone was heavy enough to crush me. Who was I kidding? I didn’t even rate on the threat scale for them. I stepped closer to Red. I figured I would agree with Red if I knew what he was saying. Because we went way back. Like five days or more. We were tight. I hoped. I forced a swallow down.

  Shark-face stepped near Rax and folded his arms.

  Oh schist.

  With three against two, I mean, I could stand next to Red all day, but I knew my vote didn’t count, Red lost this one. I tossed him a hopeful smile and walked to my EEP.

  A shout. I looked back and Hivelt was walking toward me.

  I took another step toward my EEP.

  He took a giant step and stood between the hatch and me.

  I closed my eyes and took a deep breath through my nose. Opened my eyes. I pointed to my hatch. “Esra. Esra go inside.” I motioned ducking and entering. Hivelt growled.

  “Esra.” Naraxthel’s voice came in my ear because he stood right behind me. I didn’t even hear him move. You would think someone his size would be louder. He touched my back with a claw. “Esra, hicon Naraxthel.”

  He patted my arm and then his own arm.

  I stepped back. “No,” I spoke firmly. “Esra ship.” I indicated my pod. “Esra ship. Now.” I took another step, even though it brought me closer to Hivelt.

  “No,” Naraxthel repeated. “Esra hicon do. Naraxthel.” He didn’t come after me. Just used his voice and his eyes. I was to stay with him.

  I blinked away tears. I had things I had to do in my pod. Eat. Pee. Stuff. “No hi-cone-doe-Naraxthel!” I stepped right next to Hivelt and raised my eyes. “Esra. Ship.” I frowned at him. A tear slipped out of the dock and I swept it away. Hivelt’s brows wrinkled and his mouth grimaced. Turning away, he left an opening, and I took it. I leaped inside my EEP and shut the hatch.

  I took deep gasping breaths.

  I was alive. I felt like checking all my limbs. Oh my gosh, I was alive. That thing in the water. And the stampeding herd of shaggy huge grazers, and then the reptiles … I let the horror wash over me with quivers and shudders that racked my whole body. I filled my lungs with air and blew out. I. Was. Alive.

  I did my business, wiped down my face and peered out the porthole to see the aliens. They stood watching the EEP, as if waiting for it to launch. I shook my head. Is that what they were wo
rried about? I yearned for translation. I pressed my hands into the inside wall and put my head down. I needed to exit this planet and re-enter the human race. “VELMA, can’t you run some kind of program that gives me the odds of being rescued?” She was silent for a full minute.

  “There was not an appropriate time to inform you.”

  I tipped my head and let my vision of the inside of my ship go blurry. “Uh, since when does AI care about timing? What on Earth … er … this planet, are you saying, exactly?”

  “The likelihood of anyone receiving your distress signal is one chance in a hundred quintillion.”

  “Wait, wait, wait. What?” My heart stopped for a second.

  “You seem to be experiencing a mild arrhythmia. Do you require assistance?”

  “Oh, don’t you change the subject, you ephemeral piece of excrement!”

  This was not happening. This could not be happening. I busted my back to finagle that beacon up and running. Hope was my only fuel at this point. Dinosaur-sized reptiles, deadly serpents, spiders the size of small cars, and an alien race big enough to make gorillas think twice…not to mention I had a limited number of MREs and a finite supply of medicines in the EEP. Add to that I had to wear my suit everywhere I went if I wanted to live, and I was a walking-talking recipe for a nervous breakdown.

  “You use excrement and euphemisms for excrement out of context,” VELMA replied.

  “How could you do this to me?” I asked. I started to hyperventilate. “How could you let me hope something and then dash it all to pieces! I don’t even know what to say right now!” I clenched and unclenched my fists, removing my helmet and tossing it on the floor. I sat with a huff and rested my head between my knees.

  VELMA spoke. “This planet is uncharted. The Interplanetary Unification of Races doesn’t know about this planet or this people. But the race does have interplanetary travel. Perhaps you could convince them to help you.”