Chronicles of Kin Roland 1: Enemy of Man

by Scott E Moon

  Perhaps Intelligence Officer wasn’t as stupid as he seemed. The man probably learned Brian Muldoch rarely went to the lighthouse and was on the far side of town when the assault began.

  By now, he probably understood Clavender held special significance for Crater Town.

  Rickson, barely more than a boy and full of boyish enthusiasm, ran toward Kin. Ogre ran before him. Kin knelt to pet the dog. It twisted and jumped, as excited as a puppy. Kin stood as Rickson slowed to a walk and stopped.

  “We can't find Clavender,” Rickson said.

  “Where have you looked?” Kin asked, but he already knew where she was.

  “Everywhere. Laura sent men to her house to get her and she was gone.” Rickson glanced nervously at the troopers standing guard. “The Fleet Commander heard someone call her the Storm Watcher and told Laura he wanted to interview her about the planet.”

  “Were you eavesdropping?” Kin asked.

  For a lonely shepherd, Rickson seemed to know everything that happened in Crater Town. He was sneaky as a cat, but also had an alarming network of contacts. He chatted with the baker's wife, who thought he was too thin and made him cakes, and learned all the secrets of the town women. He spoke with the blacksmith, a friend of Rickson's late father. He traded news with fisherman, travelers, and other shepherds. Now that the Fleet had made planetfall, he probably plied the troopers with wine and knew more about intergalactic military operations than any herdsman should know.

  “I was listening. They had to know I was hiding in the rafters. They have binocular night-vision and forward looking infrared sensors,” Rickson said.

  “Which they wouldn’t be using during a private meeting.”

  “Fleet troopers are required to remain on high alert during all phases of a mission,” Rickson said, standing a little straighter. “They should’ve been able to catch me.”

  He had definitely been spending time with the Fleet's finest. He probably tried to con them out of a plasma rifle, or at least a brace of tactical knives. Kin walked toward Clavender’s house in the dune, but that wasn’t where he was going.

  “And you did it anyway,” Kin said.

  “What are they going to do, shoot me?”

  “They might. And they might torture you first,” Kin said. “Go back to Clavender’s house. Go inside and search everywhere. She could return anytime. I told her not to go far.”

  “She isn’t home, Kin. I can feel it.”

  “Relax. I know where she is.”

  “Then why’d you tell me to go to her house?”

  “To keep you out of my hair.” In truth, Kin wasn’t certain she was at their meeting place, but felt her absence from the town. When she left, the air seemed charged with ozone and shadows appeared where they had no right to be. Without Clavender, the planet seemed more hostile.

  The hazy, daytime moons seemed to judge Kin’s brief inaction.

  Like you’re doing anything. Must be nice to just float around the planet.

  Clavender would probably be near Stone Forest a mile inland, but Kin wanted Rickson to wait for her possible return to her home. He didn’t want Rickson to take her to the Fleet Commander, however. The problem was explaining this to the young shepherd without seeming to betray the newcomers everyone believed were saviors.

  “I’ll go to a secret place, where we sometimes meet,” Kin said.

  “Stone Forest?” Rickson smiled when he asked the question.

  Kin massaged his temples. “Can you just go to Clavender's house?”

  Rickson laughed. “Sure, Kin. I won't pretend to do what you say and then follow you without being seen.”

  “I always see you.”

  “Whatever.”

  “But this time I’m serious. I don’t want Fleet troopers following you following me. And before you roll your eyes, they could follow you, even in their armor. The rawest recruit knows more about stealth than you ever will,” Kin said.

  Rickson argued, but Kin sent him and the dog away. He left Crater Town and slipped past Fleet sentries and observation posts he was certain Rickson had never seen. One tactic favored by troopers was to bury their FSPAA units with only a viewing device protruding from the ground. Kin had used this surveillance technique many times and knew what to look for.

  The people of Crater Town avoided Stone Forest. It was just another meteor strike, but old. The wormhole must have delivered the space rocks close to the ground, because the impact site was parade ground flat. Meteors of this size should have blasted craters into bedrock. It was almost as though they had been placed here by some mysterious, intergalactic race of compulsive rock movers.

  The dagger-like megaliths formed a complex pattern in the marsh. The Goliath blasted a massive crater when it went down and scattered ship parts throughout the region. Stone Forest, by contrast, seemed organized by a godlike hand. Kin had negotiated the maze with Laura on one of their more dangerous liaisons.

  Clavender had met him there several times, each encounter stranger than the last. She seemed to want to tell him something, but sat in silence, her face turned to the night sky.

  The place was visible from the lighthouse. Kin was certain the Fleet had reconnoitered it. He approached carefully, seeking guards or Fleet survey crews, but saw nothing. Soldiers could be a superstitious lot and Stone Forest radiated darkness. Many local ghost stories involved Stone Forest and evil spirits. There was a good chance troopers would avoid the place if given a choice. But Kin couldn’t be sure until he checked the area.

  He squatted in the reeds, listening for danger and watching wind brush the nearby water. Time passed.

  He circled the area and approached Stone Forest from the far side to avoid long range Fleet sensors. Observation posts near Crater Town could monitor the twenty-foot-tall shards of rock, but couldn’t see inside the rings that made the place a labyrinth of shadows. Kin paused at the threshold and looked up at the looming megaliths.

  “Clavender,” he called.

  Orange, red, and purple light gently washed the tops of the formation. The morning sun muted the eerie effect, though the shadows inside persisted. Stone Forest pulsed with mystery and flashed with reflections of wormhole lightning. The pale, shadowy belt of day moons turned slowly in the sky, always present, though not always visible when the wormhole flared and danced.

  Kin found a single bead of silver from Clavender's hair near the entrance. He crouched in the shadows, moving slowly forward. Clavender's custom was to leave three beads carefully arranged near the entrance to warn Kin she was naked. She was never embarrassed, but understood the people of Crater Town were modest folk when sober. Kin had seen her naked once, and though he was far from modest, his heart stopped. She revived him with a kiss and he told her she must never kill him again. She laughed at his joke and promised to always give a warning.

  But there was only one silver bead here.

  Kin turned left at the first corridor of stones, immediately spotting a handful of Clavender's silver beads scattered across the ground. He stopped. Clavender never removed more than three beads from her hair. She claimed the talismans helped her hide from her people.

  He moved quickly until he heard Clavender running through the maze, breathing heavily and speaking in a language Kin didn’t understand.

  Peering between the stones sealed by tendril vines, he saw Clavender. Her eyes met his briefly and she cried out.

  Kin hurried from one passage to the next, unable to reach Clavender. He caught a glimpse of Droon racing around a corner, pressing against the gap to claw at him. Kin held his gaze. He might not be able to kill the Reaper through it, but he could keep him busy and give Clavender time to escape.

  He understood her strategy. She dared not leave Stone Forest, because the Reaper would catch her if she fled across open ground. How long had she been playing this game? How long had she been running through Stone Forest with no chance to escape?

  Why had Droon come for her? Kin regretted his secretive journey to this place.
He needed a squad of troopers. He needed Orlan, as much as he despised and distrusted the man.

  “Kin-rol-an-da!”

  Droon roared. He snapped teeth and reached one clawed hand through the gap, pressing his face against the stone, stretching as far as he could.

  Kin aimed his pistol.

  Droon disappeared from the gap and appeared in another. “Last man! The Long Hunt ends!” Droon stepped back, then rammed against the stone spires and tangled vines.

  Kin didn’t like the sound of Droon’s words. The Reaper language was mostly images and grunts, but many of them spoke the Fleet’s language. It probably wasn’t hard to learn the language of a man when you had been deep in his mind.

  “Leave Clavender alone. Come after me. Squeeze your ugly face through that gap over there.”

  Droon looked where Kin pointed.

  Without hesitation, Kin stuck his arm through and fired.

  Droon dodged out of sight, but soon bashed against the barrier again. “Kin-rol-an-da! Kin-rol-an-da!”

  The Clinger twisted and squeezed Droon, whispering something sinister. For a moment, Kin thought the Reaper was crying—frustrated, desperate, and in pain.

  Droon groaned. “Not Cla-ven-da, Kin-rol-an-da!”

  Kin saw the Clinger tightened with such force that Droon fell to his knees and assumed the posture of a beaten man listening to his master’s demand. Droon nodded, but abruptly slammed one huge fist against the Clinger, subdued it, and resumed his attack on Kin.

  “Run, Clavender. Find Rickson,” Kin yelled.

  Droon wanted him. Kin had never seen such single minded determination in a Reaper. They normally went after the closest victim, but Droon repeatedly tried to force his way between the pillars. And he called Kin by name. Memories of captivity threatened to descend. Kin clenched his teeth and forced the images out of his head.

  Droon stepped back, panting as he stared at Kin. Venom slid from his jaws. He didn’t blink for several moments. Then he smiled and turned. “Cla-ven-da.”

  The sly expression on the Reaper’s face alarmed Kin, but nothing could be done to stop the Reaper from resuming his pursuit of Clavender, sprinting away quick as a hunting cat. The thought of her being ripped apart sparked rage so fierce Kin thought it would choke him.

  He ran at the gap in the wall, forcing his upper body through and getting stuck. Droon spun around and charged, laughing and barking words Kin couldn’t understand.

  That’s right, I fell for it. But Clavender can escape now.

  A thought ruined Kin’s triumph. Clavender didn’t fly, despite graceful wings promising miracles. He’d never seen her take to the air, but she could run. She won foot races against the town’s best, using her wings for balance, surprising people with grace and agility.

  Nothing runs like a Reaper. Don’t kid yourself.

  Kin struggled forward. Droon was two steps away.

  “Kin-rol-an-da!”

  Kin fell through, rolling when he hit the ground. Droon snatched him up by one arm. Kin flailed, trying to get free, but his feet were off the ground.

  The Reaper snapped his teeth in the air between them. Again and again the nightmarish teeth missed.

  Kin ducked and dodged with his head, but really he was just flailing wildly until he wrapped his legs around the Reaper’s waist to steady his position. He drew his pistol with his free hand. “Open your mouth a little wider!”

  “Kin-rol-an-da!”

  Kin fired.

  Droon yanked his head sideways, releasing him abruptly. Kin’s short lived feeling of victory evaporated when the Reaper, having avoided being shot in the mouth, leapt on him. An instant before impact, brilliant white wings knocked Droon sideways and engulfed him.

  Clavender tackled Droon, embracing him with arms and wings. They fell, rolled, and Droon stood with her holding him like a lover might—legs around his waist, arms around his neck. She pressed her forehead against his lower mandible, almost as though she sought forgiveness. Droon trembled with rage, spitting venom over her head.

  “Let him go, Clavender!” Kin shouted. He ran forward with his pistol, but couldn’t find an opening. Droon and Clavender danced. He roared. She sang. He flexed muscles and twisted his body to dislodge her.

  Kin considered shooting her. He couldn’t bear the thought of her being eaten alive. His pistol felt heavy. Sweat dripped into his eyes. He moved again and again, always seeking a better angle to attack until he saw a piece of the wormhole drifting down toward Stone Forest. The multicolored globe was like a drop of mercury, deforming as it hovered near the battle.

  “What the hell is that?” Kin said.

  Clavender looked up, crooning to the sliver of light that separated from the anomaly far above. Droon closed his mouth over her exposed throat, touching her skin with rows of sharp teeth, but hesitating as light danced around them. For a brief moment, he seemed to relax and Kin thought Clavender would fall free of the Reaper’s grip. But they began to fade.

  A thunderclap knocked Kin off his feet. He landed on his back, unable to hear. For a moment, the universe opened and he was confused. Shaking his head, he climbed to his feet.

  What am I seeing?

  The moment passed. Incredible as it had been, he couldn’t describe the experience or remember it clearly. After struggling to his feet, he bent to hang his head near his knees. He couldn’t believe the pain. He was suffocating.

  Not a good time to die, Kin. You got to breathe and keep your eyes open. Now he was talking to himself. Never a good sign.

  Clavender. He ran through Stone Forest. “Clavender!”

  He turned a corner too fast, slamming against the wall. Pushing away, he hurried outside. The day was brighter than he remembered. He watched Clavender’s miniature wormhole open a hundred feet above the ground. She released Droon, but as he fell, he tumbled, and as he tumbled, he kicked her in the face.

  Clavender reeled in midair, flaring her wings as she fell into a glide. Kin, momentarily entranced, lowered his gun. He focused on Droon falling to the ground. A few feet in either direction would dump him in wetland, but he struck hard and was slow to get up.

  Kin wasted no time. He rushed forward, closing the distance, but saw he wouldn’t arrive in time to stop Clavender. She hovered for a moment at the pinnacle of an aerial maneuver, then went for the Reaper again. She dragged her small wormhole toward the ground, crashing down on the Reaper as he stood.

  Droon punched her. She fell to one knee, hand lifted to fend off the next attack. Kin, fifty meters away, took as much time as he dared to aim and fired a single round.

  That’s a hell of a shot with a pistol, dumbass.

  Droon flinched at the sound and so did the Clinger on his back. The hideous parasite expanded, catching the supersonic bullet, stiffening as shock waves radiated from the strike. The Clinger hissed. Droon staggered, but didn’t fall.

  “Kin. Kin. Kin. Sexy Kin,” squawked a hopper bird as it landed near him. Kin glanced down. Clavender screamed, pulling his attention back to her. The Reaper had fallen on her. Droon roared the distinctive victory cry of his people and spoke in his native language before switching to Fleet speech.

  “Come and get her, Kin-rol-an-da.”

  Kin approached holding his pistol in both hands. “What do you want with her?”

  Droon didn’t answer, but the Clinger on his back writhed and hissed.

  “Since when do Reapers feed parasites?” Kin moved closer, placing his feet carefully each step. Droon stepped away from Clavender, baring his teeth.

  “The Clinger rides you like a donkey.”

  “No one rides Droon.”

  Kin laughed and took a step back. Droon followed. Behind him, Clavender pushed her battered form off the ground. Her wings hung weakly and she barely lifted her eyes to the scene. As Kin taunted the Reaper, drawing him away, Clavender called her wormhole with visible effort, creating a space behind Droon.

  “You are the end of the Long Hunt,” Droon said.

&n
bsp; Kin ignored the words and jumped forward, spinning in the air, slamming his boot on Droon’s chest. The Reaper fell into the trembling hole of black light Clavender had made. For a brief moment, Kin’s spirit soared. But Droon grabbed one of Clavender’s wings, pulling her after him.

  “Clavender!” Kin fell to his knees where Clavender’s portal had been, running his hands across the ground. Thunder popped in the mountain pass miles away. Kin’s head shot up, catching a flash of light, just as the persistent hopper bird flew into his face. He batted it aside. The bird landed at his feet as he stood.

  Kin looked down. “Stupid bird.” He retrieved the message, struggling to calm his breathing and control his shaking hands. “This better be good news.”

  “Kin. Kin. Laauraaa,” the bird cawed.

  Commander Westwood is investigating the attack on the sergeant, who is recovering.

  Kin held the note and considered the words.

  “Eat.” The bird landed on Kin’s shoulder and pecked his face as he scribbled on the paper with a stubby, much abused pencil from his pocket. The Reaper has Clavender. I’m going after them. He reattached the message.

  “Eat.”

  “I don’t have anything.” He nudged the hopper bird into the air and watched it fly toward Crater Town. “Stupid birds.”

  Tentacles spread from the wormhole as the entire anomaly expanded like an angry titan. Kin pondered the sky. He considered the angry red and purple tube of light. The sight didn’t reassure him. It seemed too close to the planet's surface, dropping smaller and smaller fragments of itself into the mountain pass.

  Clavender must be weakening, he thought.

  The run to Crater Town was a mile of torturous thoughts. Droon had taken Clavender. She seemed to weaken each time she called on the wormhole, and from what he saw in the distance, she still fought the monster. Kin watched the sky as he slowed to a jog, then to an unsteady walk. For a moment, the wormhole became translucent and he imagined rivers of spaceships, asteroids, and debris cascading toward destinations unknown. He blinked. The vision disappeared.

  The skin of the wormhole blazed orange. Lightning coursed across the surface.