It was two creatures. If they were just wild animals, intent on tearing her apart-somehow, she was ready for that. With her despairing view of her Me as it presently stood and her chances that were monumentally slim, part of her really didn't care what happened to her from now on.
But they were not simply animals. There were two of them, humanoid in shape, and they were barreling towards her, their maws slightly opened, their tongues hanging out as if they were panting from the strain. No... no strain, she realized. They didn't seem the least bit tired. Instead, they were almost excited by it, as if they were in some sort of hunt mode.
And they were wearing clothes. That was the thing that sent Riella over the edge, that set her legs into motion; with a stifled shriek, she pivoted and started to run. She heard what sounded like a delirious chortle of amusement from one of them, or maybe both.
Then one of them spoke. A clothed animal that spoke. And she spotted, on its back, what appeared to be twin-bladed weapons crisscrossing. She felt as if her mind were slipping away. "Riella?" it said.
She couldn't move, couldn't even speak. She managed a stunned nod.
The creatures exchanged what appeared to be looks of surprised pleasure. "We smelled your blood!" it called to her. "We couldn't pass up the scent... and look who it led us to! How delightful!"
She glanced down at her legs, flashing beneath her, the streak of dried blood on her leg where she had cut it. She cursed the blood, cursed the gods that had put her into this hideous predicament, and reflexively she started to cry out for her mother to save her, remembering only at the last moment that that blessed woman provided no haven for her.
That was when she hit it.
She had no idea what it was she hit. It was just suddenly there, and she couldn't see it, but she ran full tilt into it and whatever it was, it didn't budge so much as a centimeter. In this case of the irresistible force meeting the immovable object, the force didn't stand a chance. Riella staggered back, reality swimming around her, her arms outstretched to either side, and they pin- wheeled slightly before she fell back and hit the ground. Then blackness enveloped her.
But she did not slide completely into unconsciousness. She was vaguely, distantly aware of her surroundings. She felt as if she were in a gray area, hovering between the whispers of her frightening dreams and the equally intimidating reality of the world around her. And in that half-place, she heard chortling... and then words... and then anger, and the sounds of a fight of some sort...
And then an explosion... a series of explosions in the distance.
Suddenly, she was lifted. It would have been truly disorienting were she not already so light-headed, and she tried to open her eyes, but caught only a glimpse of longish hair that might have belonged to one of the creatures or might have been someone or something else...
Then she released her hold on consciousness and slipped away into merciful oblivion.
Atik wasn't entirely certain what had just happened. One moment the girl was running as fast as she could; he and Fista were bearing down on her, enjoying the thrill of the chase in a way that they didn't have all that many opportunities to do.
Abruptly she had stopped dead in her tracks. For a moment, Atik thought that she was changing her mind and was actually going to try and fight them. That, of course, would provide some momentary and very minor amusement before they ultimately, naturally, knocked her cold and dragged her off with them as Rier had told them to. But then Atik realized that, in fact, she had struck something. That seemed impossible; there was nothing there. But strike it she had, for she was staggering backwards as if having sustained some incredible impact due to her forward motion. Atik and Fista exchanged looks of confusion, as if each hoped that the other might have an explanation for what had just happened.
"Some sort of trick on her part?" Fista asked. It seemed a possibility, and Atik tensed, allowing for their prey to abruptly turn, produce a weapon, and make a serious fight of it. But that didn't happen. Instead she fell backwards, hit the ground hard, and just lay there, spread-eagled, staring blankly up at the sky, her eyes apparently unable to decide whether to remain open or not.
"There's something there," Atik said.
"Out here? We're in the middle of nowhere! What could be here?"
Fista was more than happy to allow Atik to take the lead. The warrior dog advanced cautiously, affording Riella a cautious look as he stepped around her and moved towards where her flight had come to such an abrupt termination. He reached out with one paw gingerly, trying to brace himself for the possibility of some sort of unseen force field that would conceivably affect him as adversely as it had the girl.
And there, in midair, he felt some sort of smooth surface. Despite the heat from the sun, the metallic substance was remarkably cool to the touch. He slid his hand along it and felt it curve downward.
"What is it?" asked Fista, approaching cautiously. He tended to do everything cautiously.
"It's a ship. It has to be. It must have some sort of cloaking device." Atik began to walk the length of it, tracing it. His nostrils flared. "Waaaait a minute. The contours are familiar. It's hard to pick up any scent off it, but I would wager anything it's the same damnable vessel that was on
Barspens! Yes, that's-"
That was when the discharge of a disruptor smashed across the open plains with deafening power. Atik jumped three feet in the air, and even as he did so, his swords (his "long claws") were in his hands. He whirled, not knowing what he was going to see and yet being completely unsurprised when he saw it.
It was the creature from back on Barspens. The one who had destroyed Rier's flagship, the one who had barely eluded capture. The one whose face Atik had so totally committed to memory.
He was standing there with a disruptor cradled in his arms and a look of quiet confidence on his face. Fista was frozen, unmoving, his body stiff and alert.
The blast had clearly been a warning shot. The insensate body of the girl was lying about equidistant between them.
Reflexively, Atik judged the distance between them. But the muzzle of the disruptor angled not-so-subfly in his direction. "I wouldn't," the creature said coolly, "if I were you."
"Who are you?" Atik snarled, although he did freeze in place.
"My name is unimportant," he said.
"If so, then why do you hesitate to say it."
"It's unimportant to me. Apparently, it's important to you; why, then, should I give you anything of importance."
Atik's expression grew more fierce, and a growl grew deep in his throat. He waited to see if his obvious fierceness had some sort of impact on the long-haired humanoid. It didn't. The disruptor in his hand didn't waver, and his expression remained quite calm. Fista, for his part, was starting to move.
"I don't want to shoot you," the newcomer said. "But I will if I have reason to."
Atik and Fista exchanged glances smugly. Clearly they had the upper hand, for the newcomer was obviously hesitant to use his weaponry. And if that was the case, then they could use the hesitation to their advantage.
Suddenly there was an explosion of sound and energy from the disruptor, and before Atik could move, Fista went down, a charred hole in his armor, barely breathing. Confusion and surprise were his last expression, frozen on his face.
"On the other hand," continued the creature, "I can also kill if the mood strikes me. Or if I get the impression that you think I'm so weak that you can take me down with no problem. A preemptive strike, if you will, to head off potential unpleasantness for both of us."
If the creature's intention was to realign Atik's opinion of him, he succeeded.
Atik actually took several steps back, making certain to keep his long fangs immobile. He toyed with the idea of trying to throw one of the vicious blades in hopes of doing serious damage to this interloper. But he judged the speed and determination with which the creature had moved, and he came to the conclusion that such an attempt would be folly.
The creatu
re was looking at him carefully, and finally said, "I remember you.
You were the one hanging on my ship back on Barspens."
Atik nodded slowly. He still stayed where he was. But challengingly, he said,
"You appear to me to be a man who likes a challenge."
"Do I?"
"Your standing there, holding a disruptor on me from a safe distance, where is the challenge in that? You should have the nerve to face me one on one, with matched weapons. I would be more than happy to provide you that opportunity, if you wish."
"That's most considerate of you."
With the slightest and most unthreatening flick of his wrist, Atik tossed one of the blades to the ground. It landed with a clatter atop the other. The creature stared at it with a distant curiosity.
"Pick it up," Atik urged him. "Put down your weapon, pick up the sword and let us face each other as equals."
"Why in the world would I want to do that?"
"Because you know you want to."
"I see." The creature scratched his chin thoughtfully. "And because I want to should be sufficient reason. Caring about the girl's safety, trying to get her away, not taking chances with her life, these are all secondary to what I want to do."
"Of course." To Atik it could not have been more clear.
The creature leveled his disruptor at him and said calmly, "What I want to do is kill you. Shoot you down, right here and now. Send your soul screaming after that of your friend. Since that is what I want to do, why... I suppose I should give in to that, shouldn't I. Well? Shouldn't I?"
Atik's lips curled in a sneer. "You're afraid. That's all. You're simply afraid
I'll kill you."
"You might," the creature said reasonably. "And then the girl will be left to your mercy, and that I cannot tolerate. If the only thing at stake is my life, I attach small enough importance to that that I'd have no problem risking it in a fight with you. I have some small experience with a blade and few enough opportunities to in- dulge. But one has to know the appropriate times. It's what separates us from the lower order of beasts, such as yourself." He flashed a smile and then said,
"Step away from the girl."
Atik didn't move.
The creature squeezed the trigger and a chunk of ground to Atik's immediate right disappeared.
Atik moved. He stepped back as the creature advanced and lifted the girl in his arms. Every muscle in Atik's body was quivering with restrained anger.
Suddenly an explosion roared from the city, a gigantic plume of flame leaping toward the sky. Atik knew precisely what it was. It was the opening salvo of the
Dogs of War attacking Montos City. In truth, it was at this point an unnecessary strike because the girl had been found. The ironic fact was that Atik and Fista hadn't actually been assigned to track the girl. The presumption had been that she was still in the city. They had simply been charged with scouting the perimeter. But in exploring the terrain, they had stumbled upon something that seemed to give them a minor hunting diversion. So they had seized upon the opportunity and, to their utter astonishment, had been led to the target of the entire Dog attack.
Although, truth be told, this did not entirely surprise Atik. He had always considered himself as a Dog of destiny, meant for great things, upon whom God
(Dog, spelled backwards) had a tendency to smile from time to time. Because of this innate feeling of being intended for some great destiny, Atik tended to be on the lookout for any opportunity to seize a moment and make it uniquely his.
As a consequence, when the explosion went off, Atik was watching for the slightest reaction from the crea- ture, and he got what he was looking for. The creature glanced off in the direction of the explosion, momentarily startled, but that moment was all Atik was looking for. He came right at the creature, full strength, full speed. He didn't bother with a roar designed to paralyze his intended victim with fear; he had the gut feeling that such a tactic wouldn't work but instead would simply serve as a warning.
The creature spun, his attention snapping back to Atik, but he was a hair too slow and Atik plowed into him. The two of them went down, and Atik heard the gun go flying from the creature's hand and clatter away. The girl thudded to the ground, and Atik knew, absolutely knew, that he had the creature cold. Tangled up as they were, with the creature helpless beneath his furious attack, the preordained end was only instants away.
And then Atik was airborne. He didn't quite know how it had happened. He only knew that one moment the creature's arms and legs were positioned beneath him, and then there was an abrupt thrust and Atik was Hying through the air. Some sort of strange throw, something that Atik had not been remotely expecting.
He landed quickly and cleanly, though, and he was wielding one of his two long fangs, the other lying on the ground some distance away where Atik had tossed it as a defiant challenge to the creature. The creature, for his part, was simply standing there, his arms calmly at his sides, watching Atik with what appeared to be a confident smile.
They stood opposite each other, Atik waiting for the creature to make a move, either towards the fallen disruptor or the sword, each of which was about equidistant from him. But each was also just out of his reach, and Atik knew that, no matter which way the creature went, he would be able to get ahead of him and dispatch him quickly and cleanly.
The creature didn't budge.
A handful of seconds crawled by with the speed of an eternity, but Atik decided that the creature was simply paralyzed with fear, despite his outward appearance of calm. Figuring that nothing was to be gained by prolonging the agony, Atik came at him, whipping his long fang around with the intention of gutting the creature. Indeed, he had it all figured out in his mind. He would go for the belly first, allowing the creature's intestines to spill out all over the ground. The creature would see this, but naturally still be alive, and would react in a rather comical fashion. Either it would try to shove its organs back into place (always a chuckle to watch) or else it would try to run and slip and fall on its own vital juices. At which point the butchery could begin in earnest. The long fang was particularly useful for such endeavors, being far more elegant than the straightforward rending and tearing that the use of his claws entailed.
Atik thrust forward with the long fang-and just like that, the creature wasn't there.
Atik stumbled, momentarily thrown off balance, something having banged against his arm while he was lunging. For an instant, Atik thought that die creature had matter-transported out, or perhaps had turned invisible or used some other similar stunt. But then, from the corner of his eye, he saw the creature turning around to face him, and Atik moved to bring up his long fang once more... and discovered, to his shock, that his paw was empty.
A confused, guttural noise came from his throat, and-ludicrously-he turned his paw over for an instant and looked at the back as if somehow the sword might have hidden itself there. Then he felt a gentle but dis-tinct pricking sensation at his throat. He looked down. The sword point was touching up against it. He looked up and saw that the creature was holding it. He did not look the slightest bit strained or out of breath. As incredible, as impossible as it seemed, the creature had simply snatched the long fang right out of Atik's grip.
"Looking for this?" the creature asked.
Atik said nothing. He barely even breathed. The point pushed more meaningfully against the base of his throat.
"I hear," continued the creature, "that there's nothing more dangerous than a wounded animal."
Suddenly the sword flashed twice, across Atik's chest, in a crisscross pattern, the two diagonal lines intersecting. Blood welled up, staining his fur dark as
Atik fell, clutching at himself. For a moment he expected that he was to meet the fate that he had been planning for the creature; then he realized that the cuts had not gone deep enough. They were still incredibly painful, however, and
Atik felt the world swimming in front of him as the blood flow thickened, covering hi
s chest. He went down to his knees, cursing himself for his weakness, certain that the next thing he felt would be the long fang flashing through the back of his neck on its way to beheading him. This wasn't right at all. This wasn't the destiny that he had been certain would be his.
But there was no cut, no impact. Instead he was startled by the sound of metal as the long fang clattered to the ground in front of him. He managed, through his pain, to turn his head and spy the creature standing a short distance away.
He was holding the disruptor in his hand once more and had the girl slung over his shoulder.
"Well? Is it true?" he asked. "About wounded animals being dangerous, I mean."
Atik said nothing, merely glared.
Star Trek - NF - 07 - The Quiet Place Page 10
