Scout

by Bob Kite

  Princess Gaug finally joined the conversation, adding, “I have told mother everything you have related to me, but you have said nothing to shed any light on this situation.”

  Scout studied his daughter, fascinated that the eyes were the only difference between all three females.

  “Everything I told you is true, but in addition, rather than being born in any natural way, I was designed both as human and with advanced survival specifications. Evidently, that includes wide latitude in procreation. I am as, make that more, surprised than you! To answer your question further, my body is not built to carry a child, so I must intermingle my fluids with that of another. This process results in a child who is a mixture of me and the host mother.”

  “Sounds like a particularly nasty form of parasite,” The Queen said with evident distaste. “The question now, is what to do with you, and how to handle this child you created.”

  Sidmopisians were not particularly sentimental, but clone lineage entangled a special bond. The fact that Scout’s daughter was not an exact clone had not lessened that bond with the hatchlings clone mother or her clone grandmother. She did exhibit some unusual traits, but other than her eyes, a casual observer would not notice anything different from a standard Sidmopisian.

  The Queen issued an atonal sigh and backed off to curl into a comfortable corner.

  “Common sense says that you are a danger to the stability of my empire one way or another. The fact that you were the genius behind our continued rule only proves this point. However, a future queen with some of your abilities would be formidable indeed. This is my offer; I will give you one year to mentor your…daughter. After which, you are exiled from all Sidmopisian lands, including the Sephian desert. And, of course, you must hand over the location of the fabled graveyard caves.”

  “Accepted, with the caveat that I pass the location over to my daughter, both for her security and my own. Not that anyone has asked but is that acceptable to you, daughter?”

  She had not said a word, nor made a move, since Scout had entered the room. In answer, she slithered over and curled around him in a tender hug and simply said, “Father!” while fully human tears fell from her blue eyes.

  ~o0o~

  From Scout’s point of view, the year passed too quickly. There was no doubt that his daughter was fully Sidmopisian; regal, aloof and capable of ruling with emotional detachment. She was, moreover, much quicker at formulating alternative scenarios than her peers, and became recognized as the legitimate third in line to the throne, even though that position did not officially exist.

  She quickly picked up the art of reading and writing, a skill and concept the entire race was incapable of understanding.. With the help of her father, though, she created a notational whistle code which gave her an unprecedented spy ring well able to keep secrets; a powerful tool for any future monarch.

  As a parting gift, his daughter secured a rare albino mopis, normally reserved for the highest royalty. She ordered the mopis brought to Scout before it hatched, and the imprinting seemed particularly strong. He named it Ghoseen, a tradition the Sidmopisians found eccentric, and its mountain-climbing capabilities confirmed his decision over his next destination.

  The insectoid wildlife in the mountains differed in fundamental ways from those found on the sands. Scout deduced that either the invisible barrier that separate the environments broke entirely during the catastrophe or the high mountain range itself acted as a barrier. He interviewed explorers, but all had stopped halfway up the peak because nothing grew that high, and they ran into permanent glaciers, an environment they could not tolerate.

  He left the Sidmopisian’s kingdom the way he had entered, on the back of a magnificent mopis, once again on the trail of his human heritage.

  ~end~

  Chapter 5: Scout & The Dhosu

  Self was restless. Self wiggled, Self twisted, Self became angered. Self slept.

  Something pushed Self, something poked Self. Self pushed and poked back. Self slumbered.

  This was Self’s world, this was Self’s routine, but lately Self felt the need for… something more.

  Self became uncomfortable. In addition to the poking and prodding, lumpy pressures constantly undulated against Self. Self had enough, pushed, twisted, and clawed. Something suddenly gave way and Self tumbled, and the uncomfortable sensations stopped. Self rested, dipping in and out of sleep. Self awoke to a new unpleasant sensation. Self had no word for the sensation, but it was like an itch that Self must scratch. Self felt a hard surface beneath, extended a tongue Self had not known Self had, and licked. It was delectable! Self attempted to take a bite, but Self’s mouthpieces were much too soft. Self was hungry; hungry, HUNGRY!

  Something stroked Self, in a language that he instinctually understood, “Come, eat, young male.” He followed the Something, comforted by its presence. He quested forward with two sensitive antennae until the hard surface changed to something warm, sticky, and delicious. He gorged, he slept, he gorged again.

  ~o0o~

  He grew and learned something of the world. There were twenty-six others like him, but they were boring and uninteresting. He knew there were twenty-six because Teachers had taught him how to count and even perform simple math. At first, he found it difficult to learn, but Teacher was patient and offered a variety of tasty treats as rewards. These days, he felt fat and sluggish, but Teacher said this was normal and a good thing. It meant wonderful changes were coming. He fell into a slumber deeper than a coma, and neither knew nor felt anything else for quite some time.

  ~o0o~

  He came to consciousness all at once. For the first time in his life, he felt the sunshine on his skin. This helped warm his blood and he slowly unfurled the six membranous wings attached to his thorax. Three simple eyes nestled beneath each wing joint opened for the first time. He became momentarily overwhelmed by these new sense organs, especially since he simultaneously saw out three more eyes at the top of his front section and another set of three at the rear.

  He noticed a small pile of coal nearby, and as Teacher instructed him, spat a gobbet of sticky acid out his flexible proboscis. The coal melted to warm slurry and he greedily slurped it up, no longer dependent upon his teachers.

  A passing shadow brought his attention to a figure flying overhead. Without thought, his carbon-fiber pincers opened and a formidable stinger slid halfway out between them. His eighteen new legs lifted him up half his body length. His front end tapered into miniature pincers similar to the massive one above his stinger, both of which he instinctively displayed.

  He quickly backed into a defensive position against the nearest boulder and bent his flexible body in a U shape. He was ready to attack with either end as he felt a gob of acid build in his spitter. Another flyer, similar in shape and size to himself, landed two body-lengths away. The newcomer slowly advanced with extended feelers and began tapping.

  “Steady there, Soldier, sheath your spike. I am Sergeant, and I’m here to introduce you to your section. I see you’ve eaten, so follow me.”

  Sergeant shot twenty feet into the air and hovered. Something about the bright green stripe running along the bottom of his body, the same color as his own, calmed Soldier’s nerves. This was his first flight, but his body responded flawlessly as he felt pleasant warmth in his wing muscles from the exertion.

  Soldier played a moment with this exhilarating new freedom, zipping back and forth with perfect balance as his body twisted and turned. He remembered Sergeant overhead and rose to meet him. He looked down to see the rock ledge rapidly shrink as they rose two hundred feet and flew due South of the mountain.

  They followed a meandering series of valleys and paused over an oval tabletop mesa. Soldier saw thirty other fliers dipping down and up over the grasslands as a unit, occasionally circling back to the north. Sergeant hovered nearby and tapped a final command.

  “This is an exceptional hunting ground. Make yourself useful and catch something, take it back to a
nest, and repeat. The Grubbs will eat just about anything, and they are always hungry. This will also help you improve your flying skills for when you graduate to patrol. I’ll be back before dark.”

  And with that, Sergeant was gone. Soldier’s eyes were very sensitive to motion and changes in light and shadow but were acute only to a range of twenty feet. He dropped to hover at the edge of that range and watched other fliers at the Hunt. Once they targeted specific prey a flyer accelerated into a dive, and no matter how fast or how quick the prey maneuvered, it never escaped. Once again, Soldier's instincts worked to perfection, and on his first try he snagged a large beetle-like trophy half his size. The prey snapped its neck joint with a loud pop and nearly caused Soldier to drop it in surprise, but he simply grasped it more firmly and casually lopped off its head with his rear pincer. He followed the valleys back north and caught his first view of his native city-state.

  His teachers had taught him rudimentary history, so it was not entirely unfamiliar, but the actual sight filled him with awe and pride. Immense amounts of labor and architectural skill had transformed living rock into arches and spires and bridges and domes, with nearly every inch intricately carved into artistic friezes and displays. Hundreds of thousands of Dhosu citizens scurried along the pathways and flew through the air. Even though the skies were crowded and there seemed to be no pattern or traffic rules, Soldier avoided the others as easily as they avoided him. He knew the nests were at the uphill boundaries of the city so headed that way.

  Countless dark openings in the mountainside signaled the nesting area, but only one out of a hundred showed activity. He chose one with a waiting teacher as they taught him during his own grub-hood in preparation for his flyer phase, and gently dropped the offering at Teacher’s feet. Without a word or acknowledgment, Teacher melted it with acid, and quickly sucked it up and transferred the grub–digestible goo inside. Soldier felt a great satisfaction and sense of place knowing that he now contributed his part to society. He spent the rest of the day contentedly hunting and delivering.

  As promised, Sergeant showed up at dusk and called an end to the Hunt. As the sun set, he split the fliers into patrols of nine. Every night at least one of the three moons gave sufficient light to silhouette any intruder so patrols picketed clearly defined if somewhat arbitrary lines.

  They flew overlapping ovals along those lines, as well as vertical ovals stacked from ground level to the top of their flight envelope. The patrols also staggered towards the interior. Sergeant placed Soldier, along with the other newbies, to the front lines. They had the least combat skills, but that also made them of less value. At the least, their defeats would slow down invaders so that more experienced warriors could engage a tired enemy.

  The night went quietly, followed by another day of hunting, a cycle that repeated until they promoted Soldier to the mid-lines.

  From their first airborne leap, fliers spent their entire life on the wing. They ate an occasional snack while delivering prey, but their main energy source was jellied coal from supplies teachers stacked outside the nests. The majority of his comrades remained content and comfortable in the routine, but Soldier turned restless.

  He felt an aggression and a passion that caused occasional scuffles with his patrol mates. On the positive side, he always gave one hundred percent in the mock training battles while others showed minimal effort. Sergeant was wise and experienced enough that rather than punitive discipline, he sent Soldier and a few select others of like ilk to advanced training.

  An elite cadre of combat veterans put them through hell. The pinched, punctured, and puked acid on the volunteers, and in the first week, half of them requested out. Soldier, however, thrived. Each training scar provided a permanent reminder never to repeat that mistake. There was no one particular area in which he excelled, but his fearlessness, combined with an innate sense of tactical movement, gave even the most talented warriors pause during melee training.

  Orders arrived from the Masters. They took a lack of enemy intrusion of late as evidence of weakness, so decided to claim a formerly neutral mountainside for a new nesting colony. Advance scouts found the area rich in coal seams and were eager to expand into the virgin territory. Soldier earned his way into the most respected commando team, assigned alongside two veterans.

  They were tasked to hold back and destroy any enemy that made it past the main troops and over to the construction site. On a dark night of a single moon, an entire wing of green-striped fliers expanded the established border to include the new territory. The enemies response came within the hour.

  Thirty-three of the enemy attacked without warning and created a ragged hole in the defending line while they suffered only two losses. The gap quickly filled in, but two more identical groups hit the same general area, thinning the depth of coverage. Losses were then fairly equal as the fight went on.

  Unnoticed, three enemy fliers dropped to the ground during the confusion, joined shortly by two other groups of three. In an innovative and unexpected maneuver, they landed and crawled along the ground. One of their Masters had trained them for weeks to overcome their reluctance to leave the air, but their success guaranteed they would pass into the disputed grounds undetected.

  Their mission was to kidnap or as a last resort kill the Master they knew would be overseeing the new project. They hid beneath an overhang and waited for daylight. As soon as the sun’s rays lit up the work site, the Master walked among the diggers and tapped the day’s instructions. No Master had ever been successfully attacked, but it was with supreme confidence that the nine jumped into the air ready to complete their mission.

  Soldier and his two cohorts spent the night hiding in the shallow rear of the new excavation. It was tiny and uncomfortable, but each had the skill and discipline to remain in the appointed cramped spot. With single precision, all three shot out of the cave and Soldier simultaneously destroyed two enemies by impaling one with his stinger and applying acid between the wing muscles of another. Six of the intruders had dropped dead or dying before the remaining three knew they were under counter-attack.

  They were the best the Blues had to offer, and two of them moved together to engage one of Soldier’s team. The defending Green fought valiantly for a short time, but in the end was overpowered. Meanwhile, the third enemy sped towards the Master. The remaining veteran Green was closest and immediately intercepted him, which left Soldier to confront the last two who had just finished off his comrade. Soldier felt a rage deeper than any time in his life, but he also rode a wave of battle-joy upon the back of that rage.

  While Soldier pushed the limits of his body and skills, the two combatants above the Master grappled in a death grip and fell to the lip of the cave. A rock outcropping knocked the Green defender unconscious, but a horde of diggers sprang on the enemy and in only seconds carved him into bite-size pieces.

  The Green warrior regained a woozy consciousness just in time to see Soldier defeat the last two enemies from beneath in an inverted maneuver that became legend. Together, the two victors gathered the heads of the slain and dropped them from on high while hidden in the sun along the forefront of the continuing skirmish line. The enemy recognized the unsuccessful stealth squad and withdrew, conceding the new territory line.

  The successful offensive brought a lull to the continuous contentions. Soldier spent the rest of his short life as something of an elder statesman. He traveled at will and shared his hard-earned skills with other troops and remained proud of his contribution. As eventually happened to all fliers, his energy began to wane. He knew his time was near. He made his good-byes to his closest friends and took his last flight back to the center of the city. He landed in the courtyard of a Memorial of Transition and waited along with dozens of other fliers of similar age.

  Over the next few days, he neither ate nor moved and slipped into a senescence of confusion. One night he quietly fell asleep never to awaken again, at least not exactly. His body began to twitch, stretching and
pulling against itself. The end with pincers and stinger was the first to detach, then the other two thirds broke apart as each of the three new individuals made their separate ways according to their new function in society.

  ~o0o~

  Teacher headed directly towards the newly acquired territory, knowing firsthand they would need her services Walking seemed slightly strange the first few miles, but memories of flying lay mostly in the left-behind mid-body ganglia. She thoroughly enjoyed the architecture and public art works along the way, and soon found traveling companions who were more than happy to share their experiences with a fellow new teacher.

  She arrived at the cave construction site and joined groups of other teachers who waited for the diggers to complete the newest cavern. A few days later a breeder flew down among them and tapped ninety of them to follow her. Teacher followed entered the new nest, pleased with the rich vein of coal that lined the center. Breeder extruded an egg sac, made one final circuit, and ensured all was well and flew away.

  Teacher was among the first to check the egg sac and tenderly massaged the pliant shell. She checked to ensure those inside were comfortable, then took her turn with the others and prepared a feeding area and a flat reception spot on the ledge.

  The day the grubs emerged was the happiest of Teacher's life. Thankfully, each was healthy and active, for it would have broken her heart if even one had not made it. She loved them all equally, but the one assigned to her by mutual consent held a special place and bond that gave her life meaning. To an outsider, especially in the first few weeks, Grub appeared as dumb as the surrounding rocks. To Teacher, each small step in understanding proved how clever her charge was. When she was not imparting wisdom about the world, Teacher felt content just softening coal and watching her grub eat.

  At times, she waited on the ledge for fliers to bring fresh meat. Teacher was sure in her faded memories that this generation was lazy and much slower in their hunting duties than had she been. As a rebuff, she seldom acknowledged them. How could anyone give less than one hundred percent of their efforts for the most important, well, second most important, job in the world?