Staré: Shikari Book Two

by Alma T. C. Boykin

  “Stupid bint,” A hard hand grabbed her wrist, digging into the bone. Her hand went numb and she dropped the shooter. Where was Martinus? She heard him, why wasn’t he attacking, protecting her? The man pulled up on her arm and almost jerked her arm out of the socket backward, dragging her to her feet. “You should have helped when told, like a good little brat.” The voice was Smargad! Rigi tried to fight him but he’d gotten her twisted around and she’d lost the shooter. She stomped on one of his ankles and he ripped a handful of hair loose in revenge. “I’m going to punish your lover where it hurts the most.” He started dragging her toward the Staré Elders.

  She’d never tried it, but she hoped it would work. She struggled and fought a little more, then yelled, “Lothar attack,” and sagged limp, a dead weight. Smargad lost his grip, cursed, and then screamed as something knocked her and him backwards. She smelled blood and meat and heard terrible sounds, like bone and flesh shattering and ripping. The screams stopped, replaced by a bubbling gurgle that ended almost as quickly. Rigi rolled away from the noise and kept rolling until she thumped into someone’s armored boots.

  The someone in strange armor crouched and helped her to her knees, then held her. “Child, Rigi, are you alright?”

  “N, n, no, Uncle Eb, but I’ll be better in a little while. And Aunt Kay said to tell you that you’d best not have ruined another suit of clothes this time.” Why had she said that? She didn’t know. Nothing made sense and her mother and Shona would be upset with her and Makana and she just wanted it all to be a bad dream. But Uncle Eb was here, and he would make the bad things go away.

  He held and rocked her as she clung to him, eyes closed tight, head resting on one armored shoulder. He said over her head, “Shock and stress. She’s physically fine. The Elders?”

  “All safe, sir. Her warning gave them time to duck, and the human woman took most of the blast by accident.”

  “I’m not certain it was accidental, Lieutenant, but that is for later discussion.” He patted her back. “Rigi, child, call off Martinus.”

  She gulped, coughed, and called, “Lothar stand down, Martinus stand down, that’s a good dog. Come here, Martinus, good boy!”

  “Don’t pet him until we can get tissue samples for positive identification, please,” Uncle Eb ordered, letting go of her.

  “Indeed. It would be most unfortunate for the unlamented deceased to pass to the wrong reward. I shudder to imagine him appearing in a Staré afterlife.” Lexi sniffed.

  “Quite so, Lexi. No one’s infernal regions should be inflicted with his presence undeserved.” Rigi heard sounds like a human and a Staré both spitting. “And Miss Rigi’s mother will likely take it a bit amiss should we return her daughter’s m-dog in his current state of dishevelment.”

  Lexi made a thinking sort of noise. “I don’t know, sir, the red splashes add a certain ferocity and liveliness to him.”

  “I do not recall that being your secondary mate’s description of the color pattern when last she saw you so decorated.”

  “Alas, Mister Trent, you do present a valid and weighty argument.” Lexi sounded disappointed. Rigi didn’t dare look up because she’d start giggling and never stop. She didn’t want to move, either, but her toes were starting to cramp. She managed to shift onto one knee, then stand. Makana limped up beside her, blood streaking the side of his head. He bowed low to someone behind her.

  Rigi turned and did the same, then staggered as three first Stamm Staré approached the group. To her shock, the outer two Staré ear bowed to them. “Honor to the wise and to the brave,” the center figure said in crisp Common. “Although one questions the wisdom of anyone who consorts with my brother.” He shook his head, and Rigi felt her eyes bulging with surprise as Kor walked up with Tomás. Kor never came into the city.

  “Lt. Prananda is counted among the observant, sir, not among the wise,” Uncle Eb informed them.

  “All is explained.”

  Kor stuck the tip of his tongue out at the speaker and wiggled his ears in a mildly rude gesture. Rigi wanted to faint from so many shocks. Kor was first Stamm? She’d always been told that he was seventh, or outStamm. What? How? But—

  “Wooeef?”

  Rigi looked down at the gore streaked head and bloody teeth. A wad of something more solid than blood hung out of the side of his mouth and Rigi shivered, sighing, “Wooeef, indeed, Martinus. Wooef indeed.”

  Then her legs gave out and she sat firmly on the warm, gritty pavement, dignity and propriety forgotten. She’d just killed a human being through Martinus. Rigi rested her head on her arms and tried to weep, but this time no tears came.

  Not quite an hour later, Rigi sat on the rear projection of a military transport parked in the shade, drinking fruit-flavored water and caressing a now clean Martinus. Well, not entirely clean—she’d have to do another full polish on him soon—but presentable to her mother. Lexi had taken Makana and the cart to the house and had made their apologies before leaving Makana to Siare and Lonka’s tender mercies. Tomás turned over command to the civilian authorities after directing his troopers to escort the remains of the deceased humans to the proper military facility. The Corporate Security men balked at dealing with that aspect of the situation, although they promised to start investigating just how a poison gas grenade had been smuggled to Shikhari. Uncle Eb slouched in his usual way at the other end of the little platform, ostensibly chaperoning Rigi and Martinus. Tomás sat between him and Rigi. Tomás kept petting Martinus and accidentally brushing Rigi’s hand as he did. She didn’t mind. It was him and not that foul beast Smargad. Martinus certainly didn’t mind, either.

  The Staré Elders sat as well, on hastily collected benches from the closest market and a small park, “No, we most certainly have no desire for humans to absent themselves from Shikhari.”

  That statement triggered the question Rigi had wanted to ask since the Speaker had first said it. “Why not, ma’am?”

  “Because you can stop the birds’ return, the giant birds that brought death to the First World.”

  The humans froze as the Elder continued, “Some of us suspected that the First Elders, those who survived the turning of the world and who founded the Stamme, meant more than we understood in the words and scents that passed down to us. Certain gestures and details faded through the years, even among the wise. We heard, we smelled, but we could no longer see and so truly remember all that they had intended.”

  Kor twitched his ears. He stood behind his brother, and unless he moved, Rigi could not tell Korkuhkalya from Tortuhtalya, who sat on the bench beside the female Speaker. Kor stated, “You saw, Miss Auriga, you and Mister Tomás both, but your hands revealed the pattern that Tomás the hunter tracked.”

  “And Mister Trent, through Lexissol, gave us your patterns. Patterns that matched in part the patterns on precious hides, ancient memory guides with lost meanings. Tankutshishin compared pattern to pattern and rediscovered the forgotten signs.” The Speaker puffed //regret/sorrow/resignation// and made an odd forefoot and ear gesture. “Not long after the creation of the fifth Stamme, disease swept us after a year without a cool season. It was the first we knew of fur-drop.” Rigi didn’t like the sound of that, and Lexi flinched, ears going flat backwards. “Almost all Elders died, and all the keepers of images and artifacts did die, their memories lost in the space of days.

  “But with the patterns, and Tankutshishin’s observation, we regained part of what had been lost, blown away like scent in a storm.”

  Of course, Rigi thought later, it would be Uncle Eb to ask the question. He leaned forward and said, “Why do you believe that we can stop the giant birds?”

  “Come to the Place of Recollection when we call for you, and we will show you.”

  Rigi, Tomás, and Uncle Eb all sighed.

  Later, as he handed her into a transport to take her home, Tomás asked, “How did you know that was a grenade, Miss Rigi?”

  “Because I read a book about small arms and colonial warfar
e while we were on Limworld.” She shuddered a little. “My great aunt and uncle would not let me draw or read on my e-reader while waiting for them and Mother and Father to finish their social rounds, so I read their print books, any I could find.”

  Tomás started to say something, caught a narrow-eyed look from Uncle Eb, and coughed, then closed the vehicle door and walked around to take his own seat.

  It took a great deal of convincing to persuade Rigi’s mother to allow her out of the house after that, even with a proper chaperone. Mrs. deStella-Bernardi had stared, hugged Rigi, hugged Tomás, hugged Uncle Eb, and then grabbed Rigi by the hand and all but dragged her up the steps and into the washing room. Rigi hadn’t thought that she looked that bad, but apparently she did, or so her mother believed. But her reaction had been as nothing compared to Cy’s when he came storming in from work.

  Rigi had been sitting on the verandah floor cleaning Martinus when Cyril charged up, grabbed her by the shoulders, and hauled her to her feet. He’d shaken her. “How could you get into so much trouble, Auriga Maris Stella? What in the name of the Magellanic Clouds were you doing? How could you cause such a fuss? Don’t you realize how much you worried Mother?”

  Rigi had glared at him, mouth locked shut, headache returning with a pounding not unlike the sound of Shona flattening meat. Cy released her. She kept glaring.

  Confusion had started replacing anger, and he demanded, “What?”

  Rigi had inhaled for a count of eight, exhaled for a count of eight, and kept her voice low, calm, and proper. “Cyril Arktur Bernardi, Mother had no knowledge of what transpired this afternoon. It seems that Shona and Siare conspired to keep Makana out of her sight, a simple task given that she was at the old temple’s service annex, helping with benevolences and planning for known needs. Mother returned a quarter hour before I did, and Lonka informed her of both my delay and that a suitable chaperone had remained with me. Might I inquire what made you believe that I had caused our mother distress?”

  “The news feed, silly. It said that you were one of the humans involved in the riot and murders near the main market.” He seemed an ear-twitch less furious.

  “The murder, singular, was committed by another human, and only humans and two poor mentally-retarded seventh Stamm Staré participated in the so-called riot, at least as of the last that Corporate Security reported shortly before I came home. I fear that once more, gossip has outrun fact.”

  “But there was a murder.” He had jammed his fists onto his hips. “And you were there.”

  “Indeed, the Wise One was present, and her observation and speed saved many lives,” Lonka stated. He set a tray with a pitcher, glass, and an overflowing plate piled with Rigi’s favorite nibbles on it onto the table, hand bowed, and had departed before either Rigi or Cy could reply.

  Cy had stared at the back door, his mouth working a bit like a Staré’s did when they ate, so Rigi had gone to the table and helped herself to two very warm cheese rusks, followed by a tiny jam cup before he had recovered enough to splutter. “Wha—? What did he mean, calling you a Wise One? And why the food?”

  A full mouth had delayed her answer. As she poured a glass of chilled ginter-bubble water, Rigi wondered if asking Martinus to leak on Cy would make her brother settle down or see reason, or if she should give in to temptation and kick his shin. He seemed especially thick that afternoon. “The Staré Elders call me that. And because Shona is delighted that Makana and I brought everything home intact from the market, and I have not had anything to eat since breakfast. And supper is delayed because Father is working a little late but will be home. And I will let you have some if you ask nicely.”

  Their mother’s arrival had prevented further discussion. “Auriga, please finish cleaning Martinus. Did you wash your hands before eating? If not go do so at once. You know better. Cyril, Mrs. Keeler-Sorenson commed, asking about your status and intentions toward her daughter. I told her that you had not made a formal request of your father and myself for permission to court, and she seemed, I will say, a touch taken aback. Has there been a communications failure?” Rigi had fled to go wash her hands, and by the time she returned, her mother and Cy had gone inside, leaving her to eat and then clean in peace.

  However, for the next two days her parents had kept finding things for her to do that required her presence inside the house. Rigi wanted to say something uncharitable, especially after she caught sight of a holo-recorder perched on the front fence, pointing toward the house. She informed Lonka of the discovery. When next she had looked, the recorder had been removed and a paperboard box sat in its place. She wondered if the box contained pieces of the recorder. She also wondered if she’d ever be allowed out of the house again.

  “Auriga, Ebenezer has asked you to go with him to a meeting tomorrow. It is related to some documents of archaeological interest,” her mother said later that very afternoon. It had begun raining at long last, and all work in the house had ceased as humans and Staré just sat on the verandah and watched the water coming down. Paul napped in his carrier beside her mother’s chair. “He asked for Makana to come as well, if he feels sufficiently well.”

  “May I go, please? I believe the documents may be related to something Lt. Prananda observed some weeks ago and notified the Institute about.”

  Her mother gave Rigi a long, serious look, as if measuring her. “I do not want to say yes, Auriga, but while you are my child, you are no longer a child. And you will have a proper escort and chaperone, so I can offer no grounds for refusal.” Rigi heard an unspoken “this time” at the end of the sentence.

  An almost-subdued Uncle Ebenezer and Lexi collected Rigi and Makana in the Trent family run-about. Martinus had shown signs of needing a deep discharge-recharge and so remained at home. As she got into the vehicle, Rigi blinked. She’d never noticed before, but it had as many Staré seats as human seats. As before, Rigi wondered just what sort of relationship existed between Lexi and Uncle Eb and Aunt Kay. Lexi seemed no worse for wear, and Rigi ventured, “Lexi, I am pleased and relieved to see that your mate held good to her promise not to welcome you with a bottle of fur-curler.”

  Uncle Eb’s shoulders twitched as if he were trying not to laugh. Makana made a sigh-like noise, and Lexi’s ears twitched. He said, “Miss Rigi, as you grow older you will find that presenting suitable tokens of esteem and greeting to one’s mate after an absence will soothe domestic unrest and ease concerns of misbehavior.” Rigi took that to mean that he’d given his mates something very nice and probably expensive, assuming Staré were like humans in that regard. She’d already heard through the family gossip vine that Aunt Kay received a very, very large art kit and other valuable things when Uncle Eb finally went home. Rigi wondered if the kit included some of those pencils and pastels that Aunt Kay didn’t use but that Rigi did.

  After that Rigi stayed quiet until they reached an unfamiliar series of buildings on the far south side of Sogdia, well away from human structures. The blue and brown sweeps of color on the wall reminded her of the inside of the outer court of the Place of Refuge. Makana leaned forward and asked Lexi something. Lexi didn’t answer until after Uncle Eb stopped the runabout and opened the door, a very polite gesture Rigi thought. Staré males in confined spaces without airflow could be vehement without meaning to. Lexi puffed something complicated. Makana snapped upright and seemed to be on the verge of panic. Was he in trouble? “Makana, remember that the Elders are not quite as fierce as hunter lizards,” Uncle Eb said. He pointed at the military vehicle parked to the side of the wall. “And Lt. Prananda is here already, probably being fussed at.”

  As she unbuckled, Rigi asked, “Uncle Eb, what did Lt. Prananda do?”

  “If we are looking at what I think we may be looking at, he has likely already dripped slobber over the items in question, unless he fainted.”

  “I have not done either of those, because I have been waiting for you, sir,” Tomás said. He emerged from the other side of the transport, walked over, and stopp
ed beside Uncle Eb.

  “Has the salnar recovered from his self-induced concussion?” Uncle Eb smiled as Rigi and Makana followed Lexi out of the vehicle.

  Tomás nodded. “Yes, sir, although he has quite a bruise on the base of his ear. I’ve never seen a Staré attempt a human salute of that style before, and I do not believe any more of my command will attempt the feat.”

  “They are wise.”

  The gate in the painted wall opened and the humans and Staré went inside.

  17

  Found Pasts and Troubled Futures

  Kor—or was it his twin?—waited for them just inside the gate. As soon as Makana’s tail-tip passed the threshold, two second Stamm guards finished their bows and closed the thick wooden panels behind them. The first Stamm moved and she saw that it was Tortuh. He wasn’t clumsy, but neither did he move with a hunter and tracker’s smoothness, then stillness. Rigi was glad that she’d dabbed on a little of the //friendly/respectful// that she’d finally managed to blend—she felt very young and small around the Staré Elders.

  Should she remove her shoes? Rigi started to bend to undo the laces. She saw the carpets or series of mats spread out from the gate to an inner gate, making a path over the ornate stone surface of the courtyard and decided that she didn’t need to. Tortuh twitched one ear as he said, “Be welcome to the Place of Recollection. I ask that you not speak of what you see here, the old things, without permission. The human you call De Groet smells over-curious for one long past hopling manners.”