Extinction: The Will of the Protectors

by Jay Korza

  A cloudy liquid filled the sacks and provided nutrients for the small dark masses that occupied the center of each one. Bound together by a communal umbilical cord of sorts, each individual teardrop would try to siphon nutrients from the others. In a litter this size, it was likely that at least four of the litter would be completely used to feed the others. Two would be so nutrient-starved they wouldn't survive the final stages of birth. Two or three more would be the runts of the litter and of those, one would be lucky to live long enough to be reclaimed when their mother came back. The rest would fight among themselves or band together as a pack in order to survive.

  The Shirka had been a spacefaring species for almost three hundred years. Their written history dated back almost ten thousand years. And with all of their technological advances, they easily could have made it so every fetus in every litter survived, but that wasn't their way.

  The Shirka were a strong species and had quickly tamed their planet once they became sentient. Each female was capable of bearing ten or more cubs per litter every two years of their adult life, if they wanted to. They realized early on that if they abandoned their natural ancestral birthing practices, they would quickly overpopulate their planet.

  They were also a species that was very in tune with nature, and that harmonic relationship called for sacrifice. Every species on the planet had to be sacrificed to another species at some point. Without this sacrifice, nature would not survive. Every plant and every creature fed the environment somehow, even the cubs of a Shirka litter.

  This process of weeding out the weak had kept their species strong and the planet in balance since time immemorial. The ones who survived were strong physically or mentally and sometimes both. This is the way it always had been and always would be.

  The litter had been left in the forest four months ago to finish its incubation period. Three would definitely be in competition for the alpha role. Five of the fifteen sacs were completely used for nutrients and a sixth was used just enough to kill its embryo. There were four runts, one particularly smaller than the rest.

  The would-be alpha that was closest to the outer membrane started to feel something that he hadn't felt before. This sensation, though new, was immediately recognized as hunger. The sacs had stopped feeding them almost three days ago in order to prepare their hunger to be strong enough to make them chew through their protective and potentially deadly outer sack layer.

  His lips curled back and he bared his teeth for the first time in his predatory life. He had exceptional long fangs for a cub, which worked to his advantage. Even so, it was difficult to get a good bite on the sack as its natural shape curved away from his mouth. In the end, he settled on chewing through his umbilical cord and eating it so that as he chewed and swallowed, it brought the sac closer and closer to his mouth until it was chewed instead of the cord.

  He finally breached the outer layer and felt the cool morning air on his muzzle. He was cute by any species' definition of the word. Cute and absolutely deadly.

  At this point, he was less than a half meter tall, lanky, covered in matted fur and exhibiting a temporary tail. Shirkas were a little oddly balanced as younglings and the tails helped stabilize them. As they grew older, the tails became part of their lower spine and essentially absorbed into their adult form. Some female Shirkas didn't lose all of their tail after puberty and this was commonly thought of as a sexy trait.

  Shirkas had a rounded head, much like a Grizzly bear from Earth, and a muzzle that resembled a wolf's. If a human had ever seen a Shirka before they knew about alien life, the human would have probably thought they were looking at a real life werewolf.

  They usually reached just short of three meters in height and looked thin for their size. They had no body fat for insulation; instead, they relied on a very adaptable system of fur that was self-regulating depending on the environment. It could thicken the undercoat in a matter of hours or shed top layers in minutes if necessary.

  Each hand had five fingers with retractable claws. An opposable thumb came from the center of their wrist near the palm of their hand, a dew claw that evolved into that position and allowed them to become more than forest-dwelling predators. Their feet were naturally padded and had stubby claws that weren't retractable.

  Overall, they were a formidable enemy and they enjoyed battle. The Shirka almost never ran from a fight but they almost never started one, either. As they expanded through their small portion of the galaxy, they never fought other species for resources or planets. Shirkas were firm believers in a code of honor that forbade them from taking what wasn't rightfully theirs. Some species had mistaken this code of honor for weakness and tried to take resources from the Shirkas. Although the Shirkas were no stranger to defeat, they never lost a single planet, asteroid or solar system they had claimed for themselves. This was a lesson the humans would eventually learn the hard way.

  And now the cubs were fighting their first battle, escaping the membranes that kept them safe and fed them for over a year now. Once the first cub breached the membrane, the remaining fluid in the sacks would start to drain and the self-contained ecosystem would stop supporting them. They had a little over an hour to get out before they would start the slow metabolic suffocation that would kill them.

  Once the first cub was out, he looked around. Shirka cubs emerged from the sacks as fully functional predators. It took only a few steps before he understood what his body could do and how to make it move. A shriek in the distance caused him to crouch and growl in the direction he heard the sound. Another predator, he was sure of it.

  It was time for a decision. He had several options to choose from, as his ancestors always had. He could eat the pups that weren't out yet, use them for his very important first meal. He could leave the litter and strike out on his own; they were taking so long to emerge and every minute he stayed here was another minute that a predator had to find him. He could help his siblings escape their sacks but that may save the weak ones who weren't supposed to survive. Or he could stay with his litter, watch over them, wait for them, and protect them as best he could if danger found them.

  No Shirka was ever judged on the decision he or she made after they emerged. If their mother returned to find one cub left and he had eaten the rest of his siblings, it was what he felt was necessary to survive and she would not hold it against him. Shirkas never discussed their birth decision with anyone outside of their family, ever.

  This cub decided to stay and protect his family. He wasn't going to help them emerge, but he would give his life to defend them if needed. He was hoping to get a kill before they emerged so he could present it to them and secure his position as alpha. Emerging first didn't automatically make you the alpha, but it helped.

  No sooner had that impulse crossed his mind than he heard an excited yelp behind him. His first sister had mostly emerged, with one leg still left in the sack. She yelped to get his attention and he came over. The look on her face was fairly obvious. Help me, brother.

  The first cub growled a negative and gave her a few short barks of encouragement.

  Even though they were fully formed and aware, they still hadn't been taught advanced language and verbal skills from their parents. All they had at this point was their instinctual communication that was based on body language and basic primitive sounds. But she got the point. Do it yourself. I know you can!

  She was going to bite him at some point for that but she had to get out first. The umbilical cord was wrapped around her ankle and she eventually chewed herself free, just seconds before her second brother freed himself.

  Three down, six to go. Over the next twenty minutes, three more emerged, including two of the runts. Of the three who remained, there was one any betting Shirka would've called an alpha. The other two were the last runts, with one of them being the smallest from the litter.

  The bigger runt was having problems breathing and losing strength as he struggled. His brothers and sisters were barking encouragement but he
just didn't have it in him to continue. He gave up. His body went still and he slowly faded away into unconsciousness and eventually death. His brothers and sisters didn't mourn him: he was a quitter—he still had life in him and he gave up. They turned their attention to the two remaining litter-mates.

  The once would-be alpha was near the center of the sacks and that's what had been hampering his progress. He was fighting his way through the sacks but he was losing steam; he wasn't sure whether he was going to make it. He wasn't going to give up, though. He would die trying; he knew that unequivocally.

  He finally broke the surface with his nose. Fresh air, the first his lungs had ever felt. The internal metabolism that had kept him alive without actually breathing had already come to an end so this breath of air was the sweetest thing he had ever or would ever smell.

  His head was almost out but his right leg couldn't move. As the sack dried and hardened, it had started to twist around his leg. He pulled and clawed but couldn't get free. He was so tired now, so lacking in energy. At least he was breathing but that was a small comfort if he couldn't fully escape the sack.

  He suddenly felt a nibble at his trapped foot and he strained to see what was going on. The little runt was trying to chew his trapped foot. He couldn't believe it; the little guy was trying to make sure that neither of them got out alive! He growled and barked angrily at the runt but there was nothing else he could do.

  ~

  The runt looked around and saw how much farther he needed to go before he could escape. So much chewing left; he didn't think he would make it. He watched his stronger brother give up and die right next to him. If his brother gave up, what chance did he have?

  He decided that being the runt didn't mean he had to die like a runt. He was going to fight, until the end, no matter what. He resumed chewing and looking for paths that had already been established by his litter-mates. The problem was as the sack dried it constricted, hardened and became much more difficult to chew through.

  He felt a strong vibration off to his right and was able to turn enough to see one of his brothers struggling to get free. Part of the sack was quickly drying and constricting around his brother's ankle. He wasn't going to make it.

  The runt looked around and saw a possible pathway for him to get out. The sack was still moist in that direction and there were obvious gnashed areas in it where a few others had already chewed through. He might be able to make it that way.

  Might be able to. He didn't like the way that made him feel. He was certain that his brother wouldn't make it out and that he only might make it out. Without any more thought, he made a decision.

  He began to claw towards his brother and chew with everything he had. When he reached his brother's ankle, he started to rip at the sack tangled around it. A few bites ended up nipping his brother but he couldn't help that now. He wanted to make sure at least one of them made it out alive.

  The runt heard his brother growl and bark and immediately knew that his intentions were misunderstood. He kept chewing and clawing until he could feel the ankle becoming less encumbered. Then in a snap, it was free and his brother rolled from the sack and rolled over on the ground, completely exhausted.

  The cub looked back to the runt still trapped inside the sack and realized what his brother was trying to and ultimately succeeded in doing. The runt had sacrificed himself to save his brother. And the runt continued to claw and move his jaw, trying to chew the sack, but it was obvious that his attempts would fail.

  The rest of the litter was standing around their defacto alpha, watching the runt make his last few attempts to free himself. The would-be alpha jumped to the sack and was going to help his brother but was stopped by the first brother. The alpha growled and made his intentions clear. He must do it on his own.

  The would-be didn't even need to think about it; his primal instincts kicked in and he lashed out. He was weak, very weak and hadn't been resting like his alpha brother had been after he first emerged. His first swipe was easily ducked and the alpha countered with a light bite to the would-be's belly. No damage but enough pain to show that he was serious.

  The would-be was also serious and knew he was prepared to kill one brother to save the other. A simple show of force and resolve wasn't going to be enough and he didn't have the time or strength to commit to an all-out fight. He feigned an attack and when his brother went to a guard position, the would-be rolled away and latched on to the sack and begin to tear at it from the outside.

  He had made several openings in the sack before the alpha was back on him and trying to make him stop. The would-be latched on to a chunk of the sack and told himself not to let go no matter what. He added his front claws to the attempt and tried to dig at the sack with all his might.

  The alpha couldn't let his decision be challenged, not this soon after emerging. He went for the throat and latched on. He didn't want to kill his brother but he was willing to hurt him, badly if necessary.

  The would-be was directing all of his energy and all of his focus on saving his brother, so he didn't last long against the alpha's attack. He was pulled away after having made some progress in his attempt. When he was able to right himself once more, he was faced with the alpha staring him in the eye and growling a warning. Enough!

  The would-be was trying to think of his next move but had a sinking feeling he had already made his last. As he looked beyond the alpha, he saw the rest of the litter making their own move. They were coming together and working to free the runt. With their combined effort, they had their brother out in just a few seconds.

  The alpha looked back and was enraged with what he saw. They had defied him; they had made their own decision and saved a weak brother. A runt even. With the act already done, there wasn't much he could do. Shirkas weren't punitive by nature so he had no plans to hurt any of them for what they did. He would just accept it for now.

  The would-be and the alpha walked together to their litter-mates, now a pack. They looked at the runt, who didn't seem to be breathing. The would-be got down on all fours and nuzzled his brother. No reaction. He licked his brother's face. No reaction. He laid down next to his brother and curled up with him. If his brother was going to die, he wasn't going to die feeling alone. The would-be watched as the rest of the pack joined him on the ground, surrounding and protecting their runt brother, giving him warmth and hopefully peace.

  ~

  The would-be wasn't sure how long they had been laying there but the alpha was getting impatient, pacing back and forth and looking at the setting sun. When darkness came, so did the predators. The pack had been lucky that their birthing sack hadn't been found and eaten by the creatures of the forest and the alpha didn't want that to change now that they were born.

  He sensed this was a delicate time for the pack and he didn't want to lose his standing. Instead of a forceful order, he tried his best to make a heartfelt whimper. I know what he did for you, but we have to go.

  The pack looked at him and didn't respond. The alpha knew it was too late; he wasn't the alpha anymore. He was the has-been and the would-be was now the alpha. They would follow him.

  The has-been had had several hours to think about the decisions his pack had made so far and he was actually leaning toward siding with them. The more he thought about his runt brother's sacrifice, the more he realized the strength it took to do what he did rather than try to save himself.

  He could either leave his pack for turning away from his leadership or join them under their new alpha. The has-been walked up to the group and added his body to the mound. He pushed his muzzle to the center in order to smell the runt and add that scent to his memory so he would never forget his brother.

  As he took in a deep breath, he felt a little dry tongue lick his nose. A low whimper followed and the rest of the pack became aware that their runt was not dead after all. The mound moved away so they could look at their brother and he looked back at each of them. Joyful whimpers started moving around the circle and the
whimpers turned to barks of excitement.

  They needed water, food, and shelter fast. Night was already on them and the predators could be heard in the distance. Water would normally be the first thing they went for but given the circumstances, shelter was the priority. The new alpha sent out the has-been and his strongest sister to scout for shelter. The rest set up a defensive posture to the best of their ability.

  They started to think like a sentient predator and not just a tooth-and-nail predator. They had opposable thumbs to put to use. They gathered rocks and kept them nearby. Shirkas' genetic memories were advanced enough to give the cubs a basic understanding of defensive tool use.

  The two scouts returned quickly and indicated they had found shelter. The group helped the runt to his feet and took turns assisting him to the shelter. The small cave was cool but at least dry. It would provide shelter and a defensible position with the drawback that there was nowhere to run to if things got bad. The cave was their final stand for the night, one way or the other.

  Two of the cubs checked the cave a second time to make sure that no other predators were hiding or had slipped in during the time it took the scouts to come and get the group. They didn't find any predators but got lucky and came across two prey animals that they made short work of and proudly presented to the alpha.

  The alpha grinned and affectionately nipped his two siblings, the human equivalent of a high-five or butt slap. The alpha then took one of the animals and presented it to the two hunters who had killed it. He then took the second one and placed it next to the runt. Usually the alpha ate first but this one was leading by example, showing that he thought the pack was more important than he was as an individual. Keep the hunters strong and protect those who deserved protecting.

  The runt nosed the animal back to the alpha and turned his head. No.