by Dean Sault
“Well, there you go Jix. Now you know why we keep humans in secret locations. Only specially selected personnel, such as Taskers, my department, and government officials have any knowledge of our human wards.”
The doctor answered a brief comm while Jix thought about the information he had learned.
“Sorry for the interruption,” Dr. Hadje said and sighed. “I’ve spent my entire life studying human behavior. Even after two centuries of DNA manipulations, some humans still display unexplained aggressive tendencies. Politicians like General Tragge are aware of the problems in our human camps, and some are renewing the old call for the end of humanity. They use our persistent problems of aberrant behavior, like Runner Madness, as evidence of scientific failure. Growing threats from Heptari cause our politicians to worry. I’m afraid we scientists are running out of time. If we fail to prove our human experiment is succeeding, then you and I may be presiding over the final days of the human race.”
Jix asked a few more questions before Dr. Hadje reminded him that they had a busy day ahead, and they needed to get some sleep. But, while the younger scientist drifted off, the director of all human affairs in the Tanarac Empire could not sleep. General Tragge’s agenda was clear—end all humans in Tanarac’s possession. Simon’s attack might be just the leverage Tragge needs.
Chapter 5
The Head Tasker of Quarry 33 hurried to the main gate. It was still dark.
“General Tragge? I am Head Tasker, Rase Bin-ta. Thank you for coming so quickly. Where is Dr. Hadje?”
“He’ll be here in a few hours. I came by military shuttle,” the general said, smug in his advantage over the doctor. “Military craft are faster than those old transports you science people drive. I’d like to see the scene of the human attack right away. Did you secure the area?”
“Yes, sir. We left it exactly as it was. Even the stripper plow is still out there. Sir, shouldn’t we wait for Dr. Hadje and his team?” the Head Tasker protested.
“I’ll take full responsibility. Take me and my team to the site, immediately.”
Head Tasker Bin-ta was accustomed to being the final authority in his compound, and held his ground, ignoring the general.
“Get Dr. Hadje on my communicator,” he instructed his assistant while standing toe-to-toe with the military leader. “We’ll get my boss’s approval first.”
General Tragge flushed in anger at his inability to bully this quarry leader. At the same time, he admired the strength of this Head Tasker. Dr. Hadje’s voice sounded from the video unit.
“Give me that damn thing!” the general said and grabbed the device. “Hadje! Tell this manager of yours to take me to the site of that human attack. I can’t wait two hours for your damn transport to get here.”
Amused by the general’s frustration, Hadje made a mental note to commend his Head Tasker. Few people could stand up to the most overbearing egotist on the Board of Ministers.
“Calm down, General. We have the scientific equipment with us. Why is it so important for you to get out there before I arrive?” The doctor used this discussion to buy a little time.
General Tragge bristled at being questioned.
“I brought a tracker team with me. We’re gonna show you science types how to handle these humans. Now, tell your man to show me where that site is.”
“What kind of ‘tracker team?” Dr. Hadje demanded.
The general had never meddled directly in the handling of human affairs.
“You theory-types are timid. When runners escape, why not go and get em?” The general’s voice betrayed his growing impatience. “I brought a top team of scouts. They’re gonna bring back your humans. Then, you tech fools can figure out what’s going on inside their heads. Now, you’re wasting my time. Give the order, or I’ll find the damn place myself!”
General Tragge tossed the communicator back to the Head Tasker.
“Rase, go ahead and take him to the scene,” Tanarac’s head of human affairs said to his quarry manager, “but, take your time, and don’t allow anyone to enter the human personal quarters before I arrive.”
After removing his Head Tasker from the hot seat, Dr. Hadje enjoyed a chuckle. Little did the general know, the doctor recently procured a military transport. It was much faster than the old research vehicles, and he had already landed a short while ago. Careful not to tip his hand, the senior scientist delighted in knowing his team would be inside the quarry in less than ten minutes, much to the general’s surprise.
The Head Tasker drove General Tragge and his team across the dark quarry to the scene of the human attack where portable floodlights illuminated the stripper plow and nearby bushes. The trackers approached the jungle’s edge and carefully panned hand lights across every dark recess between the plants. The quarry master noticed these soldiers did not carry familiar stun cords used in Tanarac law enforcement. Instead, each wore full combat gear, including the lethal, focused-particle-beam sidearm that bulged from hip-straps.
“Can you guys find em in that stuff?” the general asked.
“Yes, sir,” the tallest tracker replied with typical military confidence. “As soon as we get enough daylight, we’ll get going.”
Earliest signs of light from Tanarac’s smaller sun began to show on the horizon when a blood-curdling, animal screech sounded from the jungle depths. It was unmistakable. Hicay, and it was hunting. Sounds of a violent struggle followed. Some animal, or perhaps a human, met an unfortunate fate. When the brief struggle ended, an eerie silence filled the jungle. Even vocal treetop dwellers stopped calling out.
The steeled old general shook his head slowly at the chilling thought of meeting a hicay in its own territory, at night, and unarmed.
“Sir, we’ll enter in two teams.” As an afterthought the soldier added, “Those things won’t have a chance, sir.”
The confident soldier patted his sidearm before cautioning about results.
“General, I wouldn’t be surprised if we only bring you a bag of bones. I’d sure hate to be out there without a weapon.”
The Head Tasker’s communicator buzzed. It was Dr. Hadje, announcing he was already in the compound and on his way to the attack site.
Tragge overheard the call and looked back toward the quarry buildings. To his frustration, lights of the doctor’s transporter came into view half way across the quarry. The general looked at the edge of the jungle and up at the horizon. It was still too dark for his scouts to enter.
The Director of Human Affairs walked directly up to the general. Two unusually tall Tanarac leaders stood toe to toe.
“Tragge, you’re out of line!” the doctor said and poked the general in the chest. “This is not your jurisdiction, and I resent your actions.”
The general’s domineering personality changed noticeably, becoming almost conciliatory as he tried to negotiate with the head scientist.
“Look Hadje, your Taskers are not trained to track in the jungle, and they can’t handle hicays in the wild. The only way you’re gonna get those runners back is if my trackers go in and get em. We’re wasting time. Can my men get going?”
“If I wanted your help, I would have asked for it. Now, take your soldiers, and get out of my quarry.”
The general tried a softer approach.
“Rosh, I know I stepped on your toes. I’m sorry. You’ve gotta admit, though, you science types would love to get your hands on runners, especially the one who attacked your Tasker. My trackers can get those humans for you. We might even find one alive . . . if we don’t waste anymore time. How about it? Can I send in my trackers?”
Dr. Hadje hated to back down, but the general made one irresistible point. They had never captured a runner for follow up studies. Runners simply vanished in the jungle never to be seen again. Even aerial searches using infrared penetration scopes failed to detect anything more than hicays and a few large warm-blooded herbivores. It was an enduring mystery, and this was no ordinary runner—this one attacked a Tanarac.
/> Scientific intellect won the battle over ego.
“Alright, Byn, but tell your men they work under my command and authority. Got it? How much time do they need?”
The wily old general jumped on the opportunity, lest Dr. Hadje change his mind.
“My trackers don’t think humans can cover much ground in this dense jungle. Your runners have a full day’s head start. What do you think, men? Three days enough?”
The head tracker nodded.
“Okay, that’s it,” the general said. “My men can run them down in a day, but it might take a couple days to get em back since travel will be slower with prisoners.”
Without waiting for Dr. Hadje’s approval, he issued orders.
“You two, go after the female,” the general said and turned slightly. “Your team will bring back the male. Stay in contact at standard recon increments. Watch out for hicays.”
Two tracker teams vanished into the jungle at the last known point where each runner had disappeared. Dr. Hadje noticed they moved fast and in complete silence.
Kelly’s path through the jungle was easy to follow. She had forced through bushes with complete abandon, leaving an obvious trail. Grasses and small ferns were still pressed into soft, moist ground where the heels and toes of her worker boots dug in.
About an hour into their mission, the military trackers grew concerned about telltale three-clawed footprints superimposed on Kelly’s tracks. A hicay followed her trail. Fortunately, the predator tracks were fresh and Kelly’s footprints were almost a day old.
The scouts increased their pace, hoping to reach her before the wild animal did. They gave up stealth and traveled fast with fully-charged weapons at the ready. After several hours, the unmistakable attack scream of a hicay ripped through the air directly ahead.
“Eeeooowww!” The sound alone was enough to terrify most Tanaracs.
Beast and prey thrashed just out of sight in the dense undergrowth. The lead soldier parted a wall of vines. A hicay, only a few yards away, tore flesh from a still-moving chukka.
Startled, the predator sprang to a defensive posture in front of its kill and screamed its intent to defend the food with deadly force.
Scouts knew, once a hicay killed, it would stay with the meat for several days. They beat a hasty retreat, hoping this hicay would be no different and made a wide circle around the kill zone to relocate Kelly’s trail on the far side.
Her footprints grew close together, and scouts found a patch of ground with compressed moss where she had spent the night. One tracker shoved his fingers under the moss checking for residual heat trapped below. It was cool.
“She must have left at first light,” the tracker whispered to his companion.
The second soldier added, “No food or water. She can’t be far ahead.”
As her trail began to meander, the pursuit team wondered if confusing light of the jungle might have disoriented her, or perhaps thirst caused her to wander. Trackers increased their pace in anticipation of quick contact. With night approaching, there was not much time left for them to make contact on the first search day, and it would be too dangerous to continue after the dark.
“Eeeooowww!” The hicay scream was close.
A human scream immediately followed the hicay’s hunting cry. Trackers raised their weapons and proceeded methodically into an unusually thick tangle of jungle plants. Two more hicay shrieks tore through the air in rapid succession, but they did not sound the same. Using hand signals, one soldier cautioned about a second hicay.
Multiple deep-throated snarls vibrated through vines directly in front of the scouts. They aimed their weapons and listened as hissing-growls escalated into a violent battle. At one point, the animals crashed against the jungle barrier hiding the soldiers. Intense fighting ended with an unmistakable death-rattle as the victorious hicay clenched the throat of the vanquished. The lead tracker parted vines for a look.
On the ground near the middle of a long narrow clearing, a crumpled hicay lay motionless, soaked in blood. Its golden fur was peeled back in numerous places and revealed deeply-torn, pink flesh beneath. Its throat seeped blood from a gaping wound.
At the far end of the clearing, a small human in light blue worker’s clothes appeared to be unconscious on the ground with a huge hicay straddling her body. The soldier’s mission was explicit. Bring back human female, or her remains. Dead or alive did not matter to the trackers.
The lead soldier motioned that he would target the big hicay. His companion knew the responsibilities of a backup shooter. Both took careful aim, oblivious to motion in the bushes to their right. As the scout leader applied slow, deliberate pressure on the firing button, the wall of jungle to their side exploded in a frenzy of green leaves and vines.
A hicay sprang from hiding, pinning both soldiers beneath a thick mat of vegetation. Impact caused the lead scout’s weapon to fire involuntarily into the jungle canopy above. The second shooter attempted to kill the animal by sending a searing energy beam up through the protective mat covering them. Intense plasma missed its target, but the beast recoiled from the bright flash and crashed away into the jungle fauna, temporarily blinded.
Wasting no time, the tough scouts forced their way up through the vines. When they looked back into the clearing, both Kelly’s body and the large hicay were gone.
Scouts entered the clearing. They only managed a few steps when the large hicay sauntered slowly back into view at the far end. It moved deliberately, massive muscles rippling visibly through its thick fur. This master predator sat onto its haunches and made no effort to approach the Tanaracs, nor did it show fear of the soldiers. It stared directly into the lead tracker’s eyes.
Tough-minded soldiers aimed their pulse weapons at the big beast when three smaller hicays emerged into the clearing from either side of the big one. Four hicays!
Smaller beasts nuzzled the large animal and made barely audible, low-pitched groans before vanishing back into the foliage. The big hicay continued to stare at the lead Tanarac without blinking. Muffled sounds of brush alarmed the soldiers. They could hear the smaller carnivores pushing through the jungle to flank the soldiers. They also realized there was no way two soldiers could kill four hicays with handheld particle-beam weapons. Despite being powerful side arms, they required a full second to recharge between maximum pulses—more than enough time for a raging hicay to close distance and kill. At best, they could kill two hicays before the remaining animals reached them.
The trackers fanned their weapons toward the brush sounds as they backed out of the clearing. Kelly’s body simply could not be recovered at this time. They were not even sure if they could survive this threat.
Retracing their trail, soldiers used the last dim light before night to travel as fast as possible. When they set up camp for the night, they reported to General Tragge. All night, hicays circled their camp, staying just out of sight but making no attempt at stealth.
General Tragge hated being denied success. Nevertheless, even he knew when it was best to retreat. He ordered his scouts to suspend tracking the female and return at first safe light. His hope now rested on his second scout team.
“Besides,” the general said as he justified the failure of his first scout team, “the male is the human you really want. He’s the one who attacked your Tasker.”
While General Tragge monitored his trackers, Dr. Hadje’s team collected scientific samples from the workers’ quarters. They interviewed everyone who knew the Striker Twelve team. No one understood why their fellow humans experienced Runner Madness. Since childhood, Simon had been a model worker, excelling in everything from physics to athletics. Known for obeying rules, Kelly’s record rivaled the best workers. It was shocking that she succumbed to The Run.
Kelly’s tracker team emerged from the jungle on day two, just before the second sun dropped below the horizon. They did not need to brief the general or Dr. Hadje as their progress had been followed closely by communicator. The general, however, was
deeply concerned for his team tracking Simon. Their radio apparently failed early the first day. The last report they received said he was traveling faster than they would ever have imagined possible for a non-military trained person . . . especially a human.
Chapter 6
At the end of the third day, the second scout team returned without Simon or his remains. They reported that every time they got close to him, they ran into one or more hunting hicays, slowing their progress. Try as they might, they simply could not catch up with him.
The exhausted team told a harrowing story about an attack by a large number of hicays the prior night. Even Dr. Hadje found the stories unusual as both scout teams reported pack behavior never before documented in hicays. They were thought to be solitary hunters.
“It seems like the human lives with hicays,” the lead tracker said. “Every time we got close, the beasts attacked. He must possess the spirit of Vaal-al.”
“Preposterous!” the general rebuked his soldier. “How dare you compare a stinking human to the greatest Tanarac who has ever lived!”
General Tragge knew well the tale of Vaal-al. It was one of his favorites. Every Tanarac child learned this classic about how a mother hicay’s cub died, so she stole a Tanarac infant from a tent near the woods. She fed and protected the child until he grew into a formidable member of the loose hicay community.
As the fable goes, the child became endowed with incredible strength, and learned to use natural senses most Tanaracs thought did not exist in their own kind. The hicay-raised boy remained deeply concealed in the safety of the jungle.
Many years passed when the nation of Tanarac found itself fighting a losing battle with the bloodthirsty Karth Horde invaders. The situation was bleak. Peace loving Tanaracs were forced to the edge of the Central Jungle where their warriors fought valiantly. Remaining Tanarac soldiers formed a final line of defense, their women and children huddled behind them with their backs to the jungle. They were outnumbered ten to one.
