by S. H. Jucha
At one point, Keira caught Hessan staring at her slender rear end. She looked pointedly at him, and the young warrior spoke to Simlan, who barked a laugh. Hessan explained something to Keira, but it didn’t translate.
-7-
Prisoners
During Nyslara’s trek to the storeroom, a lookout hurried forward. He bowed to her and looked expectantly at Pussiro.
“Make your report, warrior,” Nyslara commanded.
Pussiro and the lookout stepped aside. The conversation went on and on, and Nyslara watched her wasat’s mood shift radically during the exchange. These events are so far beyond both our capabilities to predict, Nyslara thought.
The warrior ran back the way he came, and Pussiro nodded to Nyslara, indicating they should resume their walk.
“The warrior has reported the arrival of a second shuttle, my queen. It attempted to rescue the first ship, which leads me to believe that our net has somehow pinned the first shuttle to the ground. Otherwise, why endanger their people when they know the capability of our weapons.”
“Pussiro, you said no one was harmed in the initial encounter, and the soma did not discharge their weapons. How could the aliens know our capabilities?”
Pussiro ducked his head. In a battle against another nest, his warriors knew what was demanded of them, but the presence of aliens was eroding command control, and events were moving too fast to reestablish discipline in the ranks. “One of our warriors stayed too long in the ship. The hatch was closing, forcing him to drop his weapon so he could escape through the narrow opening.”
Nyslara stared hard at Pussiro to the point that the commander’s lips waffled in consternation. “Tell me about the second ship,” she finally ordered.
“Yes, my queen. The new shuttle came in over the great waters and sat in the sky, unmoving for ten thiles.”
“Unmoving and still no visible engine display?”
“None, my queen.”
“What we could do with such technology, Pussiro. Our people could rise again. We could climb out of these tunnels and into the light where we belong.”
“Agreed, my queen, providing the aliens do not eliminate every nest in retribution for our devastation of the ceena.”
Nyslara’s eyes lit in anger at Pussiro’s comment. “You take the most inopportune times to remind me of the worst of our predicaments, Pussiro. It’s good that you’re a great wasat.”
Pussiro nodded respectfully, saying nothing, deciding his great clawed foot would not fit beside the other one already in his mouth.
“Continue citing the details of the second ship’s actions.”
“The lookouts report that the ship tilted its nose down, and then the waters in front of it exploded in a giant spray. They said the spray reached over 50 shecks into the air. Then the ship did the same at the water’s shore. The ground was said to have heaved and thrown material even higher into the air than that of the water’s spray. The shore still glows where the aliens pointed their ship.”
“What did it fire?”
“The lookouts say that some type of light, seen exiting the nose of the ship, struck the waters and later the shore. Afterwards, the ship circled over the one we netted and settled to the ground. Our warriors were commanded to shoot near the ships to frighten the aliens and keep them inside. But it pains me to report, my queen, that an errant shot wounded one of the aliens emerging from a hatch.”
“Errant, commander?” Nyslara asked.
“The unit commander knows who fired the shot. The warrior is young, but he’s known to be capable with his weapon.”
“Was the alien killed?”
“That’s unknown, but it’s not believed so. Soon after our warriors’ firing began and the one alien was struck, the second ship lifted off. It now hovers protectively above the first shuttle. With its great weapon, our soma must keep their distance. But they wait in their hideouts in case the hovering ship attempts to land again. It appears that no side has an advantage … for now.”
“What of the young fool who shot the alien?”
“He’s been disciplined. His formerly unmarked muzzle now displays the scars of his unit commander’s rebuke.”
“I would hear your opinion of the aliens’ actions, Commander.”
“I believe the aliens intended to demonstrate their power to us by firing into the water to ensure they had our attention. Then they fired onto the shore so that we would know the potency of their weapon against the land. They were warning us. It should be repeated, my queen, that the weapons they fired at my warriors did not kill.”
“So, are these benevolent invaders, Pussiro, who intend to rule us gently, or are they cunning interlopers, luring us into a false sense of security about their intentions? I can’t believe the Dischnya would be so fortunate as to receive aliens who were a passive species.”
“I believe the answer to your musings, my queen, will be discovered quicker than we could wish.”
“Well, Pussiro, we do have leverage. We have their ship pinned.” Nyslara paused and regarded her wasat. “Hear me, Commander. You must be diligent and not let that shuttle loose.”
Pussiro nodded his understanding.
“Also, Commander, we have their people. With these captives, it’s hoped that we can discover what sort of aliens has landed. Come, hasten the pace, Pussiro. I’m anxious to learn.”
* * *
The Harakens sat on bessach, the Dischnya mats, except for Keira and Ginny, who were squatting across from Hessan, a pot of the dark-pigmented material beside them and the newest drawings on the floor between them. Willem didn’t need to see the figures with his own eyes. Both women were continuously streaming their vision and thoughts to him via their implants.
Suddenly, the warrior leader, who led their capture, appeared in the doorway and barked a rough command. Hessan jumped to his feet and raced to his post. His head hung in shame when he was required to collect his weapon from Simlan before he could come to attention.
The leader stepped aside and a tall, regal-looking female stepped through the doorway. An intricately woven cloak surrounded her shoulders. It was held closed by a carved piece of animal bone. Unlike any other Dischnya, the Harakens had seen, her coat was a light tan, an almost milky color.
The Harakens came to their feet, and as one, they nodded their greeting.
Nyslara ignored their gestures and sniffed the air. It was rife with the smell of fossar, the rendering of fat from a small plains animal, which was used as a lubricant. She eyed the marks on the floor near the guards’ feet and followed the trail of drawings across half the storeroom.
Pussiro’s lips were rippling. He glanced once to Simlan, who stood erect and still. Not so for Hessan. The youth’s digits were covered in fossar, and he trembled in anticipation of the severe disciplining to come.
“Commander,” Simlan said, “as elder, I’m responsible for the actions of Hessan. Allow me to be disciplined for what has been done here while on duty.” Simlan’s muzzle was already marked with the scars of battle and discipline, whereas Hessan’s muzzle was pristine.
Pussiro would have replied, but Nyslara extended a hand from her side with a single digit facing the floor, a signal for her wasat to wait. She continued to study the pictographs on the floor.
It was obvious to Willem that the entity in front of him, gazing at the drawings, was the leader of these people. That she was female fit with his estimation of a matriarchal society, and he hadn’t missed the subtle hand signal she sent a warrior leader. “Willem,” he said, nodding his head and placing a hand on his chest. He waited, but the female only stared at him with dark eyes.
Nodding to his left and right, indicating his fellow team members, he said, “Haraken.” Then tipping his head toward her, the warrior leader, and the guards, he said, “Dischnya.” This time, the female’s long tongue came quickly in and out of her mouth, as if tasting the air.
Willem brought his arm up slowly, barely above his waist with his palm out,
and indicated the older guard. “Simlan,” he said. Doing the same toward the youthful guard, he said, “Hessan.” Then the SADE touched his chest again, saying, “Willem.”
Nyslara glanced around at the markings on the floor and at the fossar dripping from the hands of the female prisoners and her guard. She silently studied the alien, who spoke perfectly the Dischnya words. Then, making a critical decision, she extended her hind legs fully, rising to an impressive height, and said, “Chona Nyslara, Tawas Soma, Sawa Messa.”
Willem touched hand to heart and gave Nyslara a leader’s bow. The answering snort could have been an acceptance or dismissal, as far as Willem could tell. Nonetheless, he returned to an erect posture and glanced toward the warrior leader.
Nyslara barked a command, and Pussiro stepped up beside her. “Introduce yourself, Commander. This seems to be a day for firsts.”
The Harakens watched the warrior leader rise to his full height and say, “Wasat Pussiro, Tawas Soma, Sawa Messa.”
Willem greeted Pussiro in the same manner as Nyslara. This time he received a courteous dip of the head in reply.
Keira’s comment brought the Harakens attention to the impressive, scaled tail that extended below the back of Nyslara’s cloak. While she stood still, it wrapped around her lower limbs, its tip resting on a foot, ostensibly a habit the female developed to keep it out of harm’s way, especially since every Dischnya possessed great clawed feet.
Nyslara turned to Simlan. “What has taken place here?”
“My queen, it started with the one who calls himself Fellum. Simple words were taught. Then the females, Zhinni, the one with the bright crown, and Hira drew with the fossar. Hessan joined them, and I allowed it. Forgive me, my queen.”
“Have the aliens learned anything of value that could hurt the soma?”
Simlan looked stricken. “Never, my queen. The aliens seem intent on learning our language. There was no exchange about our weapons, the number of soma, our tunnels, directions to their ship, or anything of a strategic nature.”
Nyslara decided to test the intelligence of the aliens, especially the one called Willem. She could hear Simlan wasn’t pronouncing the entity’s name correctly, but she didn’t think she could do much better. Nyslara pointed the claw at her primary in a drawing and eyed Willem, who gave her the correct Dischnya response. She continued to test him, touching drawing after drawing, including the hash marks, which indicated the number count. Willem didn’t miss a one, and his pronunciation of the Dischnya tongue was perfect. The entire test was unsettling.
“Your guards have been busy, Commander,” Nyslara said, continuing to examine the drawings. Indeed, they were benign, the type of things taught to mewlings soon after they demonstrated cognizance.
“They’ll be severely disciplined, my queen.”
“Not this time, Pussiro. I find your guards’ efforts encouraging. Later, I would speak with them and learn more about what transpired here. Where is the one who whistled to the ceena and was injured by the soma’s nails?”
“That’s him, my queen,” Pussiro said, indicating Teague with a palm upward movement of his hand.
Nyslara beckoned Teague forward, and she watched him stride toward her without hesitation.
“The arrogance of youth,” Nyslara said to Pussiro when Teague stood before her.
“But if this is a youth, my queen, how large is his progenitor?”
Nyslara nodded her agreement and stepped around the young alien to observe her warrior’s nail marks. She was careful to keep her clawed feet away from the soft, pink toes of the alien.
“Do you see this, Commander?”
Pussiro examined Teague’s other shoulder. “I saw the alien’s life fluids spill from these wounds myself, my queen. But these marks appear nearly healed and not scarred, as our flesh would be. In fact, the wounds seem to be fading away.”
“I wonder, Commander. Is it their nature or their technology? We continue to discover more questions than answers about these creatures. I could wish for the advice of the Fissla — the thoughts of many queens might guide us better than my own.”
“You have done well for the soma, my queen. We could wish for no other.”
“Who knew, Pussiro, that a wasat possesses a tongue that could caress a queen?” Nyslara barked a laugh, but she eyed her commander for a brief moment. Soon she would need to give birth to a daughter to rule the nest, and Pussiro might be the perfect choice to sire the next queen.
Nyslara walked around Teague to stand in front of him again. “His eyes burn brightly, Pussiro.”
“I believe the youth thinks of his four ceena, who were with him at the shore. They aren’t his pets or his slaves. They’re his companions, and they’ve been left in the great waters to fend for themselves.”
“If your estimations are true, Pussiro, then this youth’s shining eyes display a well of anger for us. Let’s hope that he’s an individual of no consequence, and that we haven’t angered some powerful progenitor.”
Nyslara shooed Teague back with an imperial toss of her muzzle. Then she indicated Keira with the palm of her hand and motioned her forward.
Keira stood absolutely still in front of Nyslara. She had a closeup view of the tall female, who possessed six teats, set in two rows, which were clearly visible through the opening in her exquisitely made cloak.
Nyslara closely examined the alien female, Keira, eyeing her breasts and her abdomen, as if searching for more of the former. At one point, she placed her snout next to a nipple and sniffed, then dismissed Keira too. “Definitely female, as you and your warriors have surmised, Commander. You can smell the difference between the males and the females, not that either scent is pleasant.”
“I should point out, my queen, that one of the small tools we believe to be a weapon, which put the warriors to sleep, was worn by the female that you just examined.”
“Interesting, both males and females are warriors or, at least, defenders of these aliens. Yet another discovery to challenge our comprehension of these creatures and their ways, Commander. Who is the alien that so frightened your young guards?”
When Pussiro nodded toward Willem, Nyslara beckoned him close. She eyed him and then leaned forward to sniff, her lips wrinkling along her snout. She traced a course across his shoulder and toward his hair, continuing to draw in air in short breaths.
“He has no scent, other than those found on Sawa Messa. How can this be, Pussiro?”
“I don’t wish to state the obvious, my queen, but these are aliens. We can see that they aren’t of one soma. Perhaps, they aren’t a single species?”
“Is it possible that they have already mingled with the species of other worlds, possibly those of other stars?” Nyslara asked.
“It would explain why they possess ceena companions.”
“Let’s not venture into that discussion again, Commander, until we have more evidence of your conjecture.” Nyslara’s slight baring of teeth emphasized her point. She looked for a last time at the drawings on the floor and the collection of aliens waiting calmly before her. Curious to her was that their mannerisms weren’t those of captives. There was no cowering. They’re confident in the eventual outcome of this encounter, Nyslara thought. She had seen this attitude before. Committed warriors displayed it, knowing, if they were killed, revenge would be taken for their deaths. Taking all this in, Nyslara made one of the most momentous decisions of her rule, without knowing it.
“Return their coverings, Commander … those you’re sure are safe. Do so now.”
Pussiro stepped into the passageway and ordered his guards to bring the aliens’ coverings. The warriors had carefully divided the strangers’ possessions into two categories — safe and suspect. Several warriors hurried into the storeroom, loaded with clothing, and at Pussiro’s order, dumped everything at Willem’s feet.
Willem gracefully bowed to Nyslara, thinking it time to demonstrate some of a Haraken SADE’s abilities, not that the female leader would understand what she was seeing. Signaling each of his companions, at the appropriate time, Willem identified clothing by its embedded ID sensor and tossed it over his shoulder, targeting the individual by their implant.
The Harakens understood what Willem intended to do, and they calmly caught each item sent their way, dropping the pieces at their feet, until they had collected their allotment of clothes. Then they decided to do Willem one better, dressing simultaneously and in the same manner — left trouser leg, right trouser leg, left boot, right boot, and shirt.
Then Xavier called for a finishing touch, ordering a parade stance, and the Harakens snapped upright with hands behind their backs.
“An interesting display of capabilities, don’t you think, Pussiro? Perhaps the aliens can give your warriors some lessons.” The lips along Nyslara’s jaw rippled in amusement. A quick glance at her wasat revealed his forehead was furrowed in concentration, as he sought to understand how the aliens had managed to coordinate their movements so perfectly.
“Prepare suitable accommodation for these captives, Commander. Think of them more as honored guests than as interlopers. See to their needs. You two,” Nyslara said, turning to Simlan and Hessan, “are no longer on guard duty. You will be the alien’s instructors. I will send you some of my advisors, who will assist you, but since you’ve earned the strangers’ trust, you will be the face of the Tawas Soma.”
Simlan and Hessan bowed, relief evident in their faces, and Hessan’s knees finally stopped shaking.
“What about food, my queen? Do you think these aliens can tolerate our meals?” Pussiro asked.
“Another excellent question, Commander. I look forward to hearing how you solve the problem,” Nyslara said and left the storeroom, her great cloak and tail streaming behind her.
