Finally they reached the spot Inelefar had spoken of. When he pointed down at the pile and kicked over some of the charred black wood, Poxiciti was as stupefied by its presence as everyone else.
“A fire pit, still warm. I don’t understand. Tell me, did you look carefully for any sign of disturbance, anything that might show us some other force was at work here?”
“Of course. I counted at least a dozen tracks, and they were all made by the segathars.”
“Fascinating, yet highly improbable. Wild animals cannot make fire. Nor do they have the mental capacity to launch a well planned attack.”
“Apparently,” Nalanusat said, terror in his voice, “this one does.”
No doubt news about what they had found would be carried back to city Anaxerxes, would spread to the other cities as well and begin a groundswell of panic. Soldiers were dead, bridges were burnt down. That would not be easily forgotten. It was going to be a formidable task just to keep the people under control. Midlothian, the brute that she was, would order her armed forces to scour the forests and exterminate every last segathar—and what could Poxiciti do to stop her? If he interfered then his party risked losing the support of the people. Had none of this ever happened then perhaps both segathar and Epiphilinian could have lived apart, in peace. But not now.
Poxiciti stood staring at where the segathar’s footprints and the fire pit came together. While he refused to see the connection, there was something at work here that had put these animals in Midlothian’s gun sight. What exactly was he going to tell the Vulana?
Chapter Thirteen
Midlothian was Tomauk of the greatest city on this new world, and her rule was sure and absolute. Of those who knew her—if they could be believed—she was the driving force behind the Vulana’s decision to bring the whole of Epiphiline here. Even if untrue many still saw her as their salvation from the monstrous waste-land that once was home. To be sure, she had many supporters in her city, yet those on whom her shadow fell would tell a different story, one that if they should live to tell would surely describe her as this planet’s primary polluter and destroyer. And so for those who dared oppose her the punishment she dealt them was as swift and severe as her judgment. Death.
Malquilimbe, battered and bloody, fell to her knees as the aircraft trembled beneath her. Only the strong arms of the dreg towering above her kept her from toppling over. The aircraft rattled and shook tenuously. Hot air from outside gusted in as the bay doors now hissed open.
Standing at the edge of the platform, Midlothian gazed out across the undulating grassy plain. Long necked creatures, too many to be counted, moved gracefully through the grass with just their heads visible. Other creatures circled in the sky overhead, shrilling noisily at this mass of metal hovering in their midst.
“This new world is too beautiful to imagine, wouldn’t you agree, Malquilimbe? You must come over to the door and take a look.” A short silence followed. Midlothian’s own heavy sigh was of disappointment for her prisoner’s reluctance to move. “Bring her to the door,” she ordered.
“No, please, great Tomauk. I beg you to reconsider.”
“Reconsider?” A cold humor was in her voice as she spoke. “Is this not what you and your followers were trying to protect? Well then, go out and join these creatures you fight to preserve. And before they strip the flesh from your bones and consume you, tell them I will have no dissension spread in my city.”
Malquilimbe felt herself being pushed forward, ever closer to the edge, realizing that what was about to happen, would happen if she did not speak out. “My life is in your hands, mighty Tomauk. To one who is highest in the city I humbly ask for your absolution.”
Standing erect, with all the power that was hers to command, Midlothian touched her yellow neck ring. “There is a decision to be made here. It is still not too late for you to make up my mind. Just name the names of your companions and I promise you shall go free.”
“So hard,” she answered. “Understand, these are my . . . my friends.” She struggled inwardly, caught in emotional turmoil.
“I can see you are an honorable creature. Loyalty to one’s friends is a difficult bond to break. I understand. You see, I have friends too. So now I must think about this. How can I still have what I want, and you, without having to betray your friends? Let me think.” She was in her thoughts. What she was thinking no one knew for certain, though Malquilimbe’s tension increased when Midlothian was ready with her answer.
“I believe I have the solution—and I offer this only to please you.” Opening the wedge of her hand she spoke firmly. “Two names. Give me only two names and you will live. Are these two worth your one life?”
Slowly, imperceptibly at first, Malquilimbe shook her head. “No.”
“Good, good. So—the first name?”
“Lohastahana,” she trembled.
“A criminal of small importance. And the other one?” Her response came even more slowly than the first, though when Midlothian heard the name she smiled and her plans of death were made. “Well done. You did the right thing, telling me. As I promised, you are now free to go.” She waved her arm in the direction of the open doors.
Malquilimbe appeared confused. “Go? Now?”
“Yes. Throw her overboard,” she commanded the dreg.
As soon as it was done Midlothian peered over the edge to see her deep in the grass, shrieking to be brought back aboard. “Walk quickly, Malquilimbe. It is a long way back to my city. And if you happen to see Sambalor out here somewhere, do say hello to her for me.”
Her rude roar of laughter diminished as the doors slid shut and the aircraft nosed skyward. This was the start of a good day, and it was only going to get better.
Chapter Fourteen
To the other creatures of the forest, Ilon must have looked very tasty. More than once Horhon had to leap over him and close her jaws on some hungry predator that had strayed too close, her white teeth now red where she had bitten through the last animal that had tried to taste him. She had the solution, yet he was determined to be free of his carrier, and so she reluctantly permitted him to walk about freely even though another karafin was preparing to have him for its next meal.
Clearly Ilon had forgotten what it was like to be alive again. That was another time, another place that could have been days, or a thousand lifetimes ago. He had no idea, only that he remembered it, yet whatever he once was he was not the same person now. Perhaps he looked the same, but he was changed forever and could never go back. Nor did he want to. In his memories he was still Taal. This seemed as natural to him as breathing, yet as each slow day passed he sensed that he was changing into something else, and that old life was slipping away from him.
“What is this darkness I see on your head?” Horhon noticed.
With his hand he brushed the top of his head and felt the nascent beginnings of bristly growth scraping under his fingers. “Hair,” he told her. “It has started growing.”
From the look she gave him this was an unfamiliar word that required explanation. However, very soon she moved with understanding. “In my dreams I remember seeing this hair. So you will have hair on your head like them.”
Not only his head, but all over his body. Because he was looking, Ilon could see where hair was growing out on his arms and chest. It was one more oddity, something that should not have concerned him, but it was another reminder of how different this life was from the past one when he started his life as a small baby and had waited years to grow into the body that he had now.
At sunrise the next day his mother took him outside, traveling onto the sunny field before going deep into the dark depths of the forest. Everywhere he travelled felt like a new adventure of discovery. Today he watched a herd of goud scale a tree. Ilon could not help but marvel at their ability for climbing. Though immense creatures of size they were excellent tree climbers, using their eight limbs and divergent outer fingers to reach the uppermost part of the forest. There was much to be l
earned here. Indeed, this forest and everything that it held was still very much a mystery to him.
And then there were these Egris, intelligent creatures like himself who knew of life and death, who dreamed like him, felt emotions like him, but were nothing like him at all. They were brutal killers, savage, raw meat eaters. The way they devoured their food was too much to bear watching. Ordinarily, it might have been easy to mistrust them, for there were rows of sharp teeth behind their smiles. And yet to hear their true feelings made him feel ashamed for ever thinking them animals. For them life was as it had been for generations—unchanged. Yet now the Iranha’s sudden and unwelcomed presence here changed everything.
Once, Ilon had seen an Iranha corpse. Horhon carried it all the way from the river just to show him one. They were sebaceous things, creatures of disgust. Like oversized slugs, he thought, for their smooth gray and black hide was slimy to touch. The two legs were short and stumpy, without any toes. The arms were longer, but again there were no fingers, only two spatulate stumps. Faces that were chinless, jawless, hardly a mouth at all, just a thick slit with rows and rows of tiny teeth. It was hard to believe how something that ugly could be so dangerous, yet he realized they possessed a kind of cunning that easily made them the most deadly creatures alive.
Outside the forest was darkening. Ilon’s day long exploration ended the moment he climbed into his burrow. He was soon fast asleep. However, for the many creatures of night, sunset signaled the beginning of the hunt. This was also true of the Egris hunters, who by nature were nocturnal feeders. At dusk they too were moving up through the tunnels, hungry, and ready to kill.
Katakana was on the field when she saw smoke near the dying horizon. Yet this was not the smoke from a campfire, for with each new day she watched it drift above the trees and knew that it was a little closer than before. Seeing it now she could not help but feel some bitterness about what they accomplished. From the very beginning it had been a bad idea. Yes, the bridges were destroyed, the Iranha stopped dead at the river. Unfortunately what they risked and won was nothing more than a reprieve. After that the Iranha redoubled their efforts, also posted more armed guards and laid deadly traps. Now each day began and ended with killing. Expeditionary forces were sweeping deeper and deeper into the forest, striking death at the very heart of their existence. More trods were being wiped out than ever before. Perhaps the hunters had unwittingly plunged themselves into an unwinnable war. If they had even once considered the hard-heartedness of their enemy before attacking them, then none of this might be happening now. Even so, the last bridge was now completed; road construction was going on as though it had never stopped. No one ever talked about attacking them again.
There was a new moon tonight. Some of the first bright stars were starting to appear in the sky overhead. In the background an animal screamed in distress; dark forms moved off the field toward it. Lifting her head, Katakana sniffed the thick, hot air, then glanced down at the ripped-open corpse and licked her red teeth clean.
“Are your stomachs full?”
“This one was not very meaty,” Saskakel complained. He spat out the animal’s gristly remains to show her he was through. “It is still early. We should keep hunting.”
“And you, Gangahar?”
“I think I have tasted better meat on the scrawniest tarser.” He freed a bloody lump of flesh caught between his teeth and threw it to the ground. Katakana took his actions for agreement.
“Then let us move on.”
Soon afterwards the hunters spotted a large herd of crested mullatods wallowing in the shallow part of the river. The nearest of them saw the attackers coming and splashed to get out of the water. In an attempt to cut them off Gangahar ran across their front while the other two circled and closed in from behind.
With his teeth dug deep into the animal’s hide Gangahar inexplicably broke off the attack and let it gallop away with the herd. It was very strange behavior. “Flee now!”
Behind them, Katakana and Saskakel saw the reason for his departure and took off after him in swift pursuit. Nor did they stop when they reached the forest, for just as they cleared the first trees monstrous machines were landing on the field behind them.
“Jump faster!” Katakana screamed in terror.
All Ilon remembered was a pair of hands suddenly closing around him before he was spirited outside and tied to his mother’s waist. He had no idea what was happening, though as the trod fled away he saw the bright lights cutting through the darkness, heard the sound of heavy machines approaching.
“Go after them!” Midlothian shouted.
She had ordered the advance. Now she wanted to kill them all, would have gladly done it herself had her personal escort not slowed and let the armored troop carriers pass. Soldiers in full battle gear emptied from the vehicles and quickly formed a skirmish line that spread out between the surrounding trees; their heavy lag guns blazing blue in the darkness.
Watching the proceedings from atop her private transport, Midlothian screamed out orders to those who ran past. She was an accomplished military leader, and head of an important city. Yet those who served under her knew her as one who ruled by fear and brutality. She enjoyed her work too much, enjoyed the hunting and killing—it was a very satisfying thing to be doing. Now as one of her hahlok commanders emerged from the forest she climbed down from the vehicle and bid her to come over.
“I wish to hear of your progress. How many dead?”
“There is a problem,” was all she said before Midlothian cut her off.
“I don’t want to hear about your problems commander, only your successes.” She crossed her thick arms. “Well, report what you found.”
The trembling hahlok commander made motions of servitude and obedience. “The animal lair is presently surrounded by our troops. The chodox gas we used is highly toxic and kills instantly, yet after we searched inside we found no segathars. It is empty.”
“They escaped? Every last one?” She was furious. “How could they have known our soldiers were coming? Could some of them have alerted the others?”
“I doubt that dumb animals could be so pragmatic as to anticipate our attacking forces and give warning.”
“Nonetheless, something has chased them off. There are fresh tracks that lead into the forest.”
“Shall we pursue them now?” The commander was quaking in fear of Midlothian’s clenched fists.
“You have a mandate, and that of course is to rid the surrounding area of these filthy things. I want them all exterminated. Search the forest. Find them, and kill them. See to it at once.”
As the terrified commander turned and hurried away, Poxiciti said from behind, “If they are feral as you say, then why are so many getting away from you?”
Midlothian snorted through her swelled nostrils. “I wasn’t aware you were keeping a record. Are you still convinced that they possess more than bestial intelligence?”
Poxiciti frowned angrily. “I can be sure of nothing,” he replied. “They are unpredictable, as wild animals usually are, but if they kill our soldiers and do not eat them, then surely it is more out of hatred than hunger. Would a mindless animal destroy valuable equipment while ignoring potential food?”
“What nonsense,” Midlothian fumed. “You have thoroughly examined the ones I sent you, have you not?”
“I have.”
“And?”
“And they are only corpses. The dead can make no plans against the living. If I am to make any sort of scientific analysis based on proving intelligence, then I need a living specimen to study.”
“So we will capture one for you,” she assured him, summoning a nearby dreg and issuing orders so that his wishes would be immediately fulfilled. When she turned back to Poxiciti she gleefully added, “Any knowledge you provide us will also aid in their destruction.”
However, Poxiciti shared little of her zeal. “You wish to destroy life and that is wrong. For so few who are guilty you are undeservedly punishing a
n entire species.”
“Undoubtedly true, but they destroy everything that is Epiphilinian. My city Anaxerxes is strong, and it grows stronger each day. I wish it to remain that way.”
“And it is my responsibility to see that this particular species of animal is preserved.”
“Preserved!” Midlothian jumped quickly to anger. “They are a pestilence needing to be wiped out!”
“Enough of the creatures have already been destroyed. The Vulana permitted you this only because a few have proven their bestial nature. Yet I doubt they will permit this slaughtering to continue only for furthering your ill-gotten wealth.”
“Your precious government is on the verge of collapsing,” she angrily retorted. “I hear news from Epiphiline of food riots in the Jhordlax district, widespread looting and killing. No one will want to preserve a killer animal here when everything they have there is falling apart.”
Now it was Poxiciti who was incensed. He pointed accusingly at her. “The ecological crisis was precipitated by the very same powers who now work to undermine our government. You female hard-liners want to see an end to our conservation policies. And that would bring the garbage pile you created back on Epiphiline—here.”
With equal vehemence Midlothian replied, “Females are the natural rulers. That is the way it has always been. We make the important decisions affecting our present situation, instead of you males who think too much of the future. I seek only to do what is best for our people—and that is to ensure our continued survival at any cost.” With her raised hand she terminated all further discussion before curtly dismissing herself from his presence.
The Battle for Tomorrow (Ilon the Hunter) Page 12
