IN NATURA: a science fiction novel (ARZAT SERIES Book 2) (24 page)

CHAPTER 35

TA’AR

Mek struggled up the last hill that stood between him and home, breathing heavily, his legs weak.

  Normally, this part of the trip would be easy, but he had lost a considerable amount of blood and his wound had continued to gush. His arm burned and was becoming increasingly inflamed. The pain was so severe that Mek began to wonder if there had been some sort of poison on the tip of the shaft that had wounded him. He wanted to remove it, but he feared that doing so would cause even more bleeding.

  To make matters worse, despite his best efforts, the
umans
and their very swift
arsas
had managed to stay on his trail. Mek had doubled back a few times, crossed water, and had used every other Arzat trick he knew to throw the smooth-skins off his scent, but he could tell that they were still with him. It was unnerving. He had never imagined the
umans
could be so capable.

  As he neared the caves and his close pursuit by the smooth-skins continued, Mek was faced with a very unpleasant decision. Should he continue on and warn the clan or try now to lead the
umans
away?

  Mek knew almost certainly what the Elders would say in this case—that Mek should go
anywhere
besides the caves. But that would also mean that he would die. His bleeding hadn’t stopped, and he was desperate to get the help of the Healers. If he continued on, away from the caves, he knew he was going to eventually bleed out, and sooner or later, he would be forced to stop and surrender to the
umans
. The thought made him shudder. He had already seen that they could be as unmerciful as any angry Arzat.

  They will torture me,
he thought.
Besides,
he reasoned,
if I do not return home, who will ever know what happened to our hunting party? Who will recount the incredible story? Who will warn the clan?
Mek knew it was possible that Za’at might make it back, but it is also possible that he too had already been intercepted by the
umans
and cut down. Mek shuddered, remembering the carnage of the
uman
attack.
No,
he thought,
better to risk the wrath of the Elders.

  Before this morning, no Arzat would have had any idea that the smooth-skins could be so clever and so brutal. None had ever guessed that they were such . . . excellent hunters.
No,
he thought,
these umans were not just some other inferior predatory animal to be laughed at, occasionally slaughtered and eaten, or otherwise largely ignored. They were quite dangerous and extremely deadly!

  He stopped and squatted, placing his hands flat to the earth. For a moment, there was a glimmer of hope. Mek felt nothing. Then, as he waited, the footfalls of the
umans’ arsas
began ringing through his fingers again
,
faint at first, then stronger. As he continued to monitor the ground, he watched a small river of blood track down his arm and run into the soil.

  Mek looked up at the sky and cursed the Great Creator, then prayed. Eventually, he focused his attention back to the two dismal choices before him. He was on an old Arzat trail, one branch leading up the hill to home and one branch breaking off and away from it.

  Mek struggled to his feet and headed towards the caves.

* * *

“What do you mean, the
umans
are almost upon us?” Ta’ar demanded, the tone of his voice burning the air around Mek’s face as if he were breathing fire.

  Ta’ar was the most feared of all of the Elders. Though clan law dictated that the council was to be attended by at least five Elder Arzats and ruled by their majority, Ta’ar was essentially in charge and had the final say in most matters regarding the governance of their Morza Clan.

  He was eight by five seasons old, calloused and wrinkled, his rough skin slightly loosened by age around his thighs and mid-section. Nonetheless, Ta’ar was very large even for an Arzat male. He still looked fit enough to rip apart anyone that might question his authority or directly challenge him, and his killing stick matched his size. No one, so far as Mek knew, had been stupid enough to find out if he could still use it.

  Mek had burst into the caves only moments before, obviously wounded and blabbering as if he were out of his Arzat mind, and Ta’ar had been immediately summoned along with the four other Elders. News of the young hunter’s arrival traveled fast and most of the cave’s entire population of males also headed for the Great Chamber. The females had been ordered out. Only the most senior female was ever allowed to stay during council, in the rare case that her opinion might be required, but even she had been dismissed.

  Now Ta’ar squatted, facing the young Arzat who had returned from a hunting expedition without the seven other Arzats who had gone out with him. Two Healers were also present, examining Mek’s wound and attempting to stanch the fresh flow of blood they had caused by removing the strange
uman
shaft that had been buried in his arm. The moment they seemed to have some success, Ta’ar ordered them away, anxious to get the full story from the young Arzat. When one of the Healers didn’t move fast enough for Ta’ar’s pleasure, his ass received a painful prod from the blunt end of the Elder’s killing stick.

  “What do you mean, Mek?” Ta’ar asked again, eyeballing the curious smooth-skin weapon, which was still caked with Mek’s blood. It looked like a child’s plaything.

  “I . . . I . . . we . . . we were ambushed early this morning, Ta’ar, son of Ra’ak.” Mek knew that his responses likely meant whether he would live or he would die, despite his wound.

  “Arzats ambushed by
umans
?” the old Arzat asked incredulously. “Why, I have never heard of such a thing—never! They live in the lands far past the evening light of Qu’aa several
het
from here. You would have to have purposely set out to find them in order for them to have done so.”

Ta’ar suddenly remembered that Za’at had been in charge of the hunt and the scales on the back of his neck rose.

  “Perhaps we should let Mek tell the story,” Na’a, one of the other Elders offered.

  Na’a was technically the most senior of the Elders. So senior in fact, that he no longer held much power. He was weak and his mind occasionally wandered due to the eight by eight seasons he had spent on this earth. Na’a was due to be voted off the Council soon and eventually assisted into the Great Void, but his time had not quite yet come. In the meantime, Ta’ar annoyed him.
If only I were a few seasons younger,
he thought, blocking.

  “Go ahead Mek,” Ta’ar said, waving his free hand in the air. “But do not try my patience with such nonsense.” He focused his attention back to the young hunter before him and his outlandish story.

  Umans
attacking and killing Arzats? Impossible,
he thought, blocking.

  Mek recounted the events that had led to his present predicament as quickly as possible using a strange mix of spoken words and telepathy. He was careful to block anything that might have incriminated his own actions—particularly his decision to return to the caves.

  “So,” Ta’ar asked when Mek was through, “you just
stumbled
upon these
umans
and decided to attack them?”

  “Well . . . Za’at said . . .”

  “
Za’at
said . . . Za’at said . . .” Ta’ar interrupted, practically screaming. “Where exactly
is
Za’at?” His eyes bored into the young Arzat. Mek realized that Ta’ar was trying to access his mind completely, which in his weakened state was getting harder and harder to defend against.

  “As I have said, Elder Ta’ar, the last time I saw Za’at he had gone off to try to find the female
uman
who had killed Ack.”

  “And where
again
are these smooth-skins who attacked you?”

  “Perhaps two or three torches away, perhaps less,” Mek said, expecting Ta’ar to thrust his killing stick into him at any moment. “I did everything I knew to throw them off my trail. They are excellent trackers.”

  Mek was right. Ta’ar was furious with him for leading the smooth-skins to the caves, but even Ta’ar was not sure how he actually felt about Mek’s ultimate decision to return to them. Had Mek not come back, neither he nor the Council would be aware of the precious information about the
umans
that Mek had just delivered
.

  Ta’ar himself had killed a few of the smooth-skins in his days as a hunter, but he had mostly avoided any contact. The
umans
were a known nuisance, but nothing more. So long as they stayed far away and didn’t make it a habit of hunting in the Arzat’s territory, they could be tolerated. Now, it appeared, they had suddenly become much more than that. They had become a threat to the entire clan.

  “How many?” Ta’ar asked, fearing the answer.

  “I could not determine that exactly, Elder Ta’ar. I didn’t see them during the attack and have been running from them since. I felt the ground many times, but their animals . . . I would say many. Perhaps eight by four or five of them.”

  Ta’ar waived over another Arzat who had been standing just out of earshot. His name was Sa’te, and he was one of Ta’ar’s favorite sons. Sa’te was an excellent hunter and had just returned from a very successful foray of which he had also been leader—bringing back two full-sized
ungos
without incident.

  “Sa’te,” Ta’ar said quietly, “assemble all of the hunters here at once. I will meet with them shortly. Then, go quickly and see if you can find the smooth-skins Mek is talking about and determine their numbers and their actual whereabouts.”

  Sa’te had a personal issue with Za’at, so he had been delighted when he had returned to find that his hunting party was the first back to the caves and more so because he had returned before Za’at. Since then, all of the other hunting parties besides Za’at’s had also made their way home and all with successful kills.

  Sa’te smiled inwardly. The fact that the smooth-skins were so close to the caves worried him not in the least. He loved a good fight and the
umans
were a perfect target.
Eight by four, eight by five, eight by eight by eight of them! We will exterminate them and roast them for dinner.
With any luck, it will be Sa’te, son of the great Hunter Ta’ar, who slays the greatest number of them,
he thought gleefully.

  As Ta’ar had ordered, Sa’te sent a summons throughout the caves for the hunters to assemble and hurried out, secretly hoping to find the
umans
very close by.

CHAPTER 36

THE CLIFF

Za’at’s left shoulder was still burning, but the bleeding had miraculously stopped and the wound had already formed a dark scab. In his right hand, he carried the head of the beast that had almost killed him, reluctantly leaving the rest of the animal’s carcass for the scavengers. Had he been able, he would have skinned the beast and brought the entire hide as well. Za’at had never heard of an Arzat killing one of the great
kootas
. Now, he had done so single-handedly and held at least some of the proof in his good hand.

  He looked back at the strange smooth-skin female that had saved him, still amazed by his entire encounter with her and particularly with her ability to directly communicate with him. She was trailing behind and breathing hard but obviously doing her best to keep pace.

  Za’at welcomed the excuse to travel more slowly than usual. Though he was feeling better, the battle with the
koota
and the resultant loss of blood had weakened him. Hauling the dead beast’s large and rather heavy head with his one good arm wasn’t making progress any easier, but he was determined to get his incredible trophy to the caves.

  No matter,
Za’at thought, as the terrain became more and more familiar. They were getting close. Soon he would be home regardless.

  Any trepidation that he had about the Elders earlier was gone. Za’at, son of the Great Hunter Qua, was now coming back not only with the head of one of the Arzat’s most feared predators, but with a
live smooth-skin
and the knowledge of how to create fire!
By now,
he thought,
Ba’a and the other hunters were sure to have returned with the bounty of their very unusual hunt!
He imagined that the entire clan was buzzing with prospect of
uman
flesh for dinner.

  But one problem still plagued him—how would he ever explain the female? He had returned to the
uman
camp essentially to recapture Ack’s murderer and to right the wrong of losing her in the first place. Now Za’at had a female
uman
captive all right, but she was the
wrong
one!
He wondered if Baa and the other hunters would know the difference.
And,
he wondered,
would it be right to claim that she was the one who had taken Ack’s life now that she has saved mine?
It was all so confusing. He turned again to look back at the female.
Really,
he thought,
she looks like just about any other smooth-skin.

  “We are almost there, little
uman,
” he said aloud, unlocking his mind so that she could hear his thoughts. Za’at had been consciously blocking for some time, now very much aware that the female was very good at mindreading.

  “The caves are just over that hill.” He awkwardly pointed his killing stick with his bad arm indicating the exact direction. Za’at could sense that the female had stopped.

  “My name is Alex, daughter of the Great Hunter Simon. You would do well to refer to me by my proper name, Za’at, son of Qua!”

  Alex was both excited and frightened. She knew she was about to enter the proverbial lion’s den—in her case, a cave full of living breathing Arzats. As a paleontologist, this was something that was beyond her wildest dreams. Not only was she about to see how Za’at and the other Arzats actually lived now, she was also about to see how they probably lived sixty-five million years or so ago. They were the only known intelligent dinosaurs from the Cretaceous! The thought of it was incredible. But, she also knew that if she didn’t take charge immediately, she would almost certainly be walking into a death trap.
Thank god Mot and Ara taught me so much about Arzat protocol and culture,
she thought.
That knowledge just might save me.

  She turned and looked back down the mountain, wondering again if Tom and her two Arzat friends were anywhere near.
Just maybe,
she thought,
with some luck, I can negotiate my way out of this mess and maybe even get some help finding them.

  First, Alex, you need to stay alive,
she heard her father say.

  Alex spun back toward Za’at and found the Arzat squatting with his palms to the ground. He was also looking back down the mountain.

  “Someone is coming this way,” he said, his eyes scanning the forest. He stayed motionless, then sniffed the air and flicked. “
Umans
.”

  Alex’s heart leapt.
Maybe Tom and Ara have finally caught up with us. Was it possible?
She carefully blocked any thought of it from Za’at.

  Za’at continued to monitor the ground and the air. There was the very distinctive scent of several smooth-skins filling his nostrils and the vibrations of many large four-footed beasts surging through his fingertips. “
Umans,
” he repeated, “many of them and many of their
arsas.
”

  Za’at gave a last glance down the mountain, slung his scabbard over his back, and picked up the cat’s head. “We need to go, Alex, daughter of the Great Hunter Simon.”

* * *

A short while later, the two of them rounded a bend along a well-worn trail.

  A high, flat cliff of nearly vertical rock walls several hundred feet high rose from the mountainside. Alex thought the face of it looked like a small version of Yosemite’s famous Half Dome. Below the cliff, a nearly flat sea of large boulders had settled many hundreds of years before, evidence of how the sheer face of it had been created. Virtually in its center, high overhead, Alex spied a large outcropping. As she looked more closely, she noticed several Arzats standing on it, as if they were guarding something. Almost as soon as she had noticed them, they seemed to have noticed her. There was movement.

  Za’at also looked up and painfully pulled his hunting stick from its scabbard, raising it into the air. One of the other Arzats signaled back.

  “Follow me closely, Alex, daughter of Simon,” he said. “The way to the top is quite steep and may be difficult for you. Should you lose you footing . . .” The Arzat shrugged.

  Alex looked back up. Za’at’s meaning was quite clear. It was a long way up. She looked around for any indication of a path but could not see one.
How in the hell does he expect me to get up there,
she wondered.
Heck,
for that matter,
how is
he
going to get up there?

  Za’at leapt up on a large rock that was right in front of him, almost head high to Alex. “This way,” he said, squatting and offering his good hand to her.

  Alex took it and placed her foot on the rock, allowing Za’at to lift her to the top. As he pulled her over, she was relieved to see what looked like a deer trail that immediately started up the cliff’s face. The path was interspersed with small rock outcroppings that looked almost like stairs.
Ingenious,
she thought,
I would have never spotted this access from below or even imagined it was here.

  Za’at picked up his trophy and the two of them began the ascent. Alex’s thighs began to burn almost immediately as she and Za’at wound their way higher and higher. She was already exhausted from the morning’s climb up the mountain. This was far worse. Just as the Arzat had warned her, the trail was steep and narrow, barely wide enough for one individual. She was forced to stretch her legs in order to place her feet in what were obviously well worn Arzat footholds.

  As she progressed, Alex tried not to look down, but it was impossible. She had to in order to maintain her footing. The higher they got the more Alex clung to the inside rocks, which in some places protruded over the trail so much that they practically pushed her off the cliff’s face.
I’m glad I’m not overly afraid of heights,
she thought, venturing a look down as she clung to the wall.

  They were already more than fifty feet above the trailhead. Below, Alex could see more remnants of the mountain that had slid away at one time or another, creating the cliff she was now struggling to climb. Her Arzat guide, meanwhile, had moved a considerable distance in front of her. She hurried to catch up and almost lost her footing.

  “Stay very close, Alex,” Za’at cautioned, pausing to let her catch up. “Arzats are not used to seeing
umans
with their skin on—and certainly not alive. You will be a curiosity and will be quite threatening to them. In fact, they will probably wish to kill you on sight.”

  Then why in the fuck are you bringing me up here,
she thought, blocking.

  “I will do my best to protect you.”

  “I would appreciate that.”

  “For the moment, you are my property. You should not be touched without my permission.”

  Property my ass,
Alex thought, almost slipping again.

  “But, Alex, daughter of Simon,” he added, “I owe you only
one
life. In order to survive in the caves, I fear you might need far more than one.” Za’at disappeared around another sharp bend.

  When Alex arrived at the same spot, she found herself on the ledge she had seen earlier. It was much wider than she had expected, twenty or thirty feet, with a large opening in the center. Za’at stood on the edge of it surrounded by three other Arzats, all sporting killing sticks of their own. All of them immediately looked at her, their multi-colored reptilian eyes blazing.

  Alex stopped. She glanced at each of them, looking directly into their eyes just for a moment, then averted her own, remembering her lessons.

  “Listen carefully, Alex, daughter of Simon,” Za’at said using just his mind. “Do not reveal that you can hear Arzat thoughts. As far as they are concerned, you are just a stupid
uman
and the current property of Za’at, Great Hunter and son of Qua.”

  “I understand,” she said, making sure she was blocking correctly as Ara had taught her so that only Za’at could hear her.

  As Za’at moved to the cave entrance, Alex attempted to closely follow him. The other Arzats, who had been momentarily distracted by Za’at’s unusual trophy, immediately drew their hunting sticks and pointed them directly at Alex.

  “We cannot allow the
uman,
Za’at, son of Qua,” one of the hunters stammered, glaring at the strange creature. He was young and had never even seen an
uman.

  Though he spoke aloud in unintelligible Arzat, Alex could perfectly understand him in her mind. All three of the Arzat sentries had their eyes fixed on her. She noted that all of them sniffed and flicked as she got close, which she found somewhat amusing despite the pointed tips of their spears and the fact that her heart was probably beating one hundred eighty.
Men,
she thought,
all the same regardless of species.
If she hadn’t been so frightened, she might have laughed.

  “Listen, Ta’a! I am Za’at, son of Qua! This is my
uman,
and I will enter with
my property
as I please,” Za’at said, his eyes glaring at the younger Arzat.

  The Arzat Ta’a and the other two sentries slightly lowered their killing sticks, but did not move.

  “Do you wish to challenge me, Ta’a?” Za’at said, venom in his voice. Za’at knew he had to be forceful. Were he guarding the caves, he knew he would never have allowed the
uman
without first checking with an Elder. “Any of you?”

  Ta’a looked back at the
uman
and then to his comrades. “The Elders will not approve,” the young Arzat said weakly.

  “I will deal with the Elders, Ta’a, and you have Ma’al and Ata here to witness. Now move aside and let me pass before I have to teach you to fly.” Za’at moved for the entrance, now apparently unopposed.

  Alex took a deep breath, gritted her teeth and followed. As she walked past the Arzat sentries, she tried not to look at them or the sharp tips of their killing sticks that were poised only inches away from her.