Fractured Prophecy

by P J McDermott

  At that moment, she reached out and made contact, and all sadness left her.

  Hickory took a few seconds to appreciate this new manifestation of her power. At first, she merely observed, noting the animal was a young female, not yet of mating age. The memories the Scarg carried of her mother, and her brothers were like faded black and white video. The recent journey to the ice had been her first, and she’d been excited to be chosen. Recollections of her first kill, a sea lion, were still raw, seared into her memory by the sight, taste, and smell of the other’s lifeblood. Hickory was astonished to find grief and reasoning; the knowledge she had taken another’s life to preserve her own.

  Hello. Hickory whispered into her mind.

  The Scarg’s head bobbed up. <>

  The connection was as bright and exhilarating as a fresh, running brook. I bring life, not death. Hickory moved forward until she was level with the creature. I am here. Look to the side.

  The Scarg’s head turned on its long neck. When Hickory came into her view, she shrieked, thrashing her arms and upper body, trying to free itself from the sand.

  Wait. There is nothing to fear. I mean you no harm. If you struggle, the ground will grip your legs more firmly. I am here to help rescue you.

  Hickory’s soft tone seemed to have a calming effect on the Scarg. Fear and curiosity warred for control in her eyes. She squinted. <>

  Hickory thought Jaku must be the creatures’ name for the Bikashi. She shook her head. I am not a hunter. I come from a faraway land. My friends call me Hickory. You can too, if you like. You speak very well for one so young. Is this how you converse with others of your kind?

  The Scarg’s neck straightened, and its almond eyes shone bright blue. <>

  Do your friends call you by a special name?

  The Yatzi shot her an appraising look. <>

  Hickory knew of some primitive races who believed there was power in knowing another’s name. I will call you Yatzi, then, until you come to know me as a friend. Where do you live, Yatzi?

  The Yatzi’s eyebrows lowered. <> She bared her teeth and uttered a low growl.

  Hickory paused for a few seconds. She’d frightened the youngster and lost any trust she’d managed to build. Even if she did free her, it was doubtful the Yatzi would thank her. Still, she’d already made the connection, and she had to try. Very well, Yatzi. I will leave you here to die a long and painful death if that is your wish. I will be sad because you are an intelligent creature and I believe you and I could be friends. Your mother will miss you, I have no doubt. And all for nothing. I have no reason to trick you or wish any harm to come to you. I can release you from this mire in moments, and you would be free to rejoin your family. Hickory smiled, projecting peace and tranquility at the Yatzi and saw her shoulders relax. She remained uncertain, but the alternative terrified her.

  <>

  #

  Gareth’s plan worked to perfection. Neither Jess nor Sikona needed to be called into action. Hickory explained to the Yatzi how they planned to get her out. She shivered with fright when she realized Hickory was not alone but bobbed her assent. Gareth whipped the lariat around his head several times, then let go. The rope flew through the air and landed within reach of her. She picked it up, and at Hickory’s mental prompting slipped it over her upper body. The tricky part was to get the Yatzi to wiggle her toes and contract and expand the muscles in her legs enough to agitate the sand and create liquidation, but after several false starts, she was successful enough to allow Gareth to free her legs from the mire. He hauled her to the edge of the quicksand and moved away.

  Hickory approached the animal and removed the lariat, then poured some water into a bowl.

  The Yatzi sniffed suspiciously then held the bowl to her mouth and slurped.

  Hickory offered her hand and allowed the creature to scent it, then took hold of the animal’s hand and raised it to her nose. Thank you for letting us help you. You are free to leave now if you wish.

  The Yatzi gave Hickory a searching glance, then turned and loped away.

  Hickory watched her disappear into the canyon without a backward glance.

  “Not very grateful, eh?” said Gareth, following her progress.

  “I’d say she was as thankful as her nature would allow,” said Hickory, “and that wasn’t the point was it? You were the one who said we couldn’t simply leave her, and we did learn something about these creatures.” And I learned a lot about myself, too. She was pleased at rediscovering her neoteric power. It had changed, evolved, from when she last used it. Maybe I’m not such a loser, after all.

  Jess and Gareth had switched their SIMs to receive mode to allow them to listen to the conversation between Hickory and the Yatzi. Jess had relayed as much of this as she could to Sikona, but the Bikashi was perplexed. “I do not understand. Are you saying you talked to this animal?”

  “In a way,” said Hickory. “We communicated via telepathic empathy—and please don’t ask me to explain how it works. It just does. In practice, I conversed with the Yatzi by linking the interpreter function of my SIM to my neoteric mutation. Put simply, I heard her speak my language in my mind, and she heard me in her own tongue in hers.”

  Sikona’s eyes blinked rapidly, indicating his deep concern. “I didn’t know you were telepathic.”

  “I’ve been able to sense people’s moods and had premonitions of danger ever since I was a little girl.” She shrugged. “As I grew older, I could tell if someone was lying or evading the truth simply by listening. Then, when I was fifteen, the mutation I carry evolved to let me look into the minds of others, hear their thoughts, and share their experiences. This last part was more curse than gift because I couldn’t control it and had trouble distinguishing which thoughts were my own. I almost went mad. Surgeons applied patches and created new gateways in my brain to reduce the intensity of my empathic responses, which worked for a while.”

  She paused, thinking of the attack on her by the Charakai. The flying reptiles had almost ripped her to shreds. “On my first mission to Prosperine, an extreme event caused the barriers in my brain to dissolve, and after that I discovered I could share telepathic communications and visions with other empaths and had the ability to influence decisions. On a few occasions, with the help of deep meditation, I was able to bind primitive creatures to my will.”

  Hickory could sense worry eat at Sikona. “Please don’t be concerned. My power of telepathic suggestion doesn’t work with intelligent life forms and I promise I won’t read your mind.”

  She continued, “The Yatzi—that’s what they call themselves—are an intelligent species. I would classify them as a hominid, and if it were possible, in the same clade as man, chimpanzees, and the great apes of Earth. For one, they think about what alternatives are open to them instead of acting on instinct alone, and they have a sense of humor. The young one made use of irony when talking to me. I believe they also have a concept of the supernatural—they certainly understand the finality of death. I found out they live in a social structure with the family at its center, much as the Bikashi do. As we saw earlier, they control fire and eat cooked meat, although I suspect not always.”

  Gareth laughed. “If we meet up with them again, we could always tell them a joke.”

  Jess screwed up her face. “You don’t know any jokes, at least no good ones.”

  “Wha—”

  Hickory intervened. “Let’s hope
it doesn’t come to that. It was hard enough trying to convince the young one we meant her no harm.”

  Sikona’s brows creased. “These creatures, Scarg or Yatzi as you call them. I was told they were dangerous animals. I never considered they might be intelligent.”

  Hickory sensed his discomfort and wondered if he was hiding something. “Why does that worry you?”

  “My people hunt them for their skins, is that not enough?” He hesitated, his eyes blinking rapidly. “Some are brought to Kaffur and trained for menial tasks. They are not well treated.” He looked away from Hickory’s gaze.

  CHAPTER 10

  Capture

  As they trekked through the canyon, Hickory related her experience with the plants, which by this time had disappeared. “It was incredible. They grew and blossomed so fast; it was like I was watching time-lapse photography.”

  Jess scraped at the bare soil with her boot. “There’s no sign of them, so where have they all gone then?”

  “They’ve shrunk back underground,” said Gareth. “Some plants in the Australian outback will stay underground for years until it rains. They flower for a brief time, and when the water dries up, they disappear beneath the soil until the start of the next cycle.”

  “But flowering in the moonlight? Don’t plants need the sun to photosynthesize?”

  “Most plants do, yes, but there are some that only flower at night. Moonlight is subtle—at its peak, it’s about 15% as strong as sunlight. But its rays do penetrate the soil, and it affects plant life from germination through to pollination. The reflected light from Earth’s moon seems to suit some plants better than direct sunlight. The effect may well be more pronounced on Auriga, especially under a full moon like last night. I’d say plants in these parts derive more nutrition from bio-electric activity than photosynthetic energy.”

  “Is that a fact, boyo? Is there anything you’re not an expert in?”

  Gareth tapped his nose and grinned at her. “Not much,” he said.

  Hickory laughed. “Oh, you’re wrong about that, Gareth. Look ahead.” They’d reached a point where the canyon opened out onto a broad plain. Less than a mile distant sprouted a forest of giant violet ferns.

  “That’s… impossible,” said Gareth. “How can we go from arctic to tropical in the blink of an eye.”

  “You tell me, know-all,” said Jess, not without a little spice in her voice.

  Hickory stepped in before the argument got out of hand. “Enough, you two. Sikona, what can you tell us about this phenomenon?”

  Sikona put down his pack and stretched. “I have known this species to grow even where the temperature drops below zero at night, provided it returns above freezing the following day. It is a hardy plant and will grow over fifty feet tall. This area seems like a natural sun trap, yes?”

  They reached the outskirts of the fern forest and stopped to examine the foliage. The trunks sprouted hair at the base with large, roughly textured purple fronds spread in a canopy up to twenty feet in diameter. Dead leaves littered the ground below.

  Gareth stooped to examine one of the smaller plants. “Not so different from the tree ferns back home, other than the color of course, although these grow a lot bigger. The purple color will allow the plant to absorb much-needed energy from the sun. It’s also possible these ferns provide a food source for the local wildlife.”

  Sikona said, “Not only wildlife, the fruit of the fern is prized as a delicacy in Kaffur.”

  “Really?” said Jess.

  “It’s not so strange, Jess, Australian aborigines cut out the tops of local ferns and roast them. I haven’t tried it myself,” said Gareth.

  “Well, at least that’s something—ow!”

  Sikona snatched Jess’s arm and pulled her away from a fern. “Sorry, Jess, please be careful. There’s a lot of sticky webbing around here.” He motioned toward the crown of the plant Jess had been examining. A giant insect was making its way down a gelatinous thread toward her.

  Gareth dragged Jess away and watched, fascinated, as the foot-long arachnid continued its descent. Its body was in three segments, covered with black and red hoops, and its eight jointed limbs dripped a syrupy substance. The head of the insect had a multitude of eyes that stared at Gareth and a pair of large horizontal mandibles. Without warning, the creature ejected a sticky jet of resinous fluid which hit the boy on the face. He flapped at the substance connecting him and the beast, and soon his hands were covered in the resin.

  “Come away from there, junior.” Hickory slashed at the gooey web with her S.F. knife.

  Excited by the throbbing of its web, the creature nosedived toward Gareth and Hickory.

  Jess drew her knife and threw it. The creature screeched as her blade pierced its abdomen, pinning it to the trunk of the fern.

  Sikona rushed forward and stabbed it twice through the head.

  Hickory grabbed her medkit and poured water onto a gauze bandage, then scrubbed at Gareth’s face, trying to wipe off the sticky mess. She could feel it burn her hands and called on the other two to bring more water. It took half an hour for Sikona and Jess to clean the webbing from her and Gareth’s skin. By then, Hickory’s hands were red and blistered, as was much of Gareth’s face. At least the goo missed his eyes.

  Jess applied some salve to Hickory’s and Gareth’s wounds and the pain subsided a little.

  Sikona retrieved the two knives from the body of the dead arachnid and handed one to Jess. “Another mutation left over from the war. I’d guess there’s a lot more of them in there.” He squinted into the fern-forest.

  “We don’t have any choice, we have to go in.” Hickory looked at Gareth. “How do you feel–ready to go?”

  Gareth staggered to his feet. “Sure thing, Cap, and thanks for getting me out of there.”

  Jess grinned at him. “You have a habit of getting yourself into a sticky mess, but this takes the cake.”

  Gareth grinned back. “Touché, mother.”

  They walked around the outskirts of the forest until they found a spot where the dead fronds had been flattened underfoot. “This must be where the Yatzi go in,” said Hickory.

  “And come out,” muttered Gareth.

  It was dim beneath the canopy of the ferns, but there was still enough light to see by. A small animal ran across the path behind them making a chittering sound. “Rats,” said Gareth. “Oh, how I love rats.”

  Hickory felt something niggling at her empathic sense, but it was too far away to make out. “There’s something up ahead. Keep your wits about you and keep silent.”

  #

  Hickory called a halt mid-morning. The humidity had increased markedly, and fungi sprouted beneath their feet, red and green, blue and yellow, button-sized and giant sized. She placed her hand against a fern trunk. “It’s warm,” she said. Spores from the canopy floated downward, sparkling in the light filtering through from above. “My guess is these ferns are radiating heat to promote their own pollination process.”.

  Jess sneezed and rubbed her eyes, then was seized by a fit of coughing. She leaned over, hands on knees, and began to wheeze, her breath coming in short gasps.

  Hickory appraised her running nose and watering eyes. “I think you must be allergic to the spores. You look like you have a bad dose of hay fever. Are you okay?” she asked as Jess doubled over in a fit of coughing.

  “Can’t breathe,” Jess said, hoarsely.

  “Duck under this coat,” said Hickory, taking off her jacket and arranging it over Jess’s head. “It should keep some of the spores at bay. We’ll wait here until you recover.”

  “It won’t last long, mother,” said Gareth, looking around. “The ferns are spending a colossal amount of their reserves to convert chemical energy into thermal, and the growth rate of the fungi is unsustainable.”

  Jess grunted in reply.

  A few hours later, the spectacle subsided, the spores stopped falling, the fungi decayed, and they were able to recommence their journey.

&nb
sp; The further they walked, the more claustrophobic it felt. The ferns closed in above their heads and arched over the path, forming a solid wall on either side.

  Jess grimaced. “Anyone else get the feeling we’re walking into the lion’s den?” she whispered.

  “SIM from now on,” ordered Hickory. “Sikona, the Yatzi pack is nearby. They’re coming for us.”

  Sikona nodded, but the warning came too late.

  Half a dozen blurs of white fur charged down the path and barreled into them, screeching deafeningly.

  The four travelers were bowled over before they had a chance to raise an arm in defense. Hickory sensed overwhelming aggression from them. If we resist, we’re dead. Submit. Lie still. No weapons. Hickory spoke to Gareth and Jess via their SIM and pleaded with Sikona through her eyes. They lay on their backs as the Yatzi jumped around them, glaring and screeching. She recognized the largest of the six as the one who’d attacked them on the beach off the mainland—the one she’d nicknamed Silver. He ran at Hickory, pulling to a stop inches from her face. His jaws gaped, and saliva dripped from his canines. His fur smelled of rotting fish.

  Silver smacked her on the shoulder, retreated a few yards, then turned to charge again.

  Hickory…

  She turned her head to see two of the beasts hauling Jess by both legs along the track. Jess, don’t fight it. If they were going to kill us, we’d be dead already. I think they mean to take us to their camp. She saw Sikona and Gareth in a similar plight. She glanced sideways at her captor, making sure she didn’t look him in the eyes. His features contorted and he snarled as he feinted at her once more. She turned her face away and squeezed her eyes shut.

  The beast raised his arms in the air and roared. <> Hickory started as she realized the creature had spoken telepathically to her. She tried to respond, to establish an empathic link in hopes of swaying her attacker, but quickly realized its telepathic ability was too limited. The young Yatzi told me the males of her tribe lose their capacity to communicate mind-to-mind as they get older. Silver still has the remnants of the skill, but not enough for me to make contact.