Primal Estate: The Candidate Species (49 page)

“Sure. Sorry about almost shooting you. I really didn’t want to do it. I don’t know if I would have.” Rick added with all sincerity, “You are like a brother to me.”

“You had your reasons. It was a difficult moment. Hopefully we’ll never be in such a situation again. Sorry about the whole wheel and spoke panic. I felt really stupid,” Utu admitted.

“No worries. It was something we couldn’t have anticipated.”

Utu sat on the edge of the bed. “I need to tell you something. I’ve known about it for some time now but didn’t know how to tell you. I think it might be an asset to our cause.”

“Is it something that can help me in about an hour?” asked Rick, thinking about his approaching revenge against Ryvil.

“I don’t know, but it’s something you should be aware of. I realized it when you pulled your gun on me. If you’d shot me without knowing, well then, you never would have known.”

Rick was starting to get interested.

Utu continued, “When Shainan and I made love for the first time, that’s when it happened.”

“Yes, I know. You’re a stud in bed. But I don’t think that will be enough to scare away the Provenger.”

Utu smiled and shook his head. “No, it doesn’t have to do with the sex, but I think our emotional state had something to do with it. I’ll cut to the facts. We found ourselves in the past.” Utu waited for Rick to respond.

“What?”

“Yes, we found ourselves back near our village. We saw our village and our tribe. We’ve done it many times since that first time. I’m just not sure if we were really there, because I didn’t recognize anyone and they wouldn’t speak to us when we tried to talk to them. I’d like your help trying to figure this out.”

“You probably dreamed it. Are you sure you were awake? Did you both have the same dream?”

“We know it wasn’t a dream; it was too real. I think we were really there. Since we’ve done it, we’ve never had anyone here to watch to see if we’re gone. Am I being clear?”

“Yeah, you’re wondering if your bodies disappear or something.”

“Yes, exactly. If I really am going back in time, I think we could use this to our advantage. But since I couldn’t speak to anyone, I’m just not sure if it was real or if it would have any value.”

“Utu, it probably was just a dream, maybe what’s called a waking dream. Maybe you and Shainan have some kind of connection where you can share these memories and they seem real. I don’t know. We’ll have to look into it. When I get back.”

“Rick, I think I could take you.”

“We don’t have to have sex, do we?” Rick faked a little nervous laughter, and Utu chuckled with him.

“No. Shainan and I have done this without sleeping together. Just short trips. We were always worried about getting stuck there. We didn’t know anyone,” Utu said with a shrug. “It seems like our tribe is here now. Thank you, Rick. I just wanted to tell you.”

Rick finished burying Marcus, the Harley, and his revolver; a simple matter of pushing the pile of dirt, created from digging the hole, back over him with the front end loader. Rick thought about the possibility of disintegrating the whole mess later using Provenger technology, possibly with the gauntlet.

He went inside to put on his gear. Already fully outfitted in his green camouflage utilities, the rest of his equipment was waiting on the kitchen table. Rick had gone over the plan in his head, wondering whether or not he should tell Nwella what he was about to do, wondering if that would make her an accomplice and subject to any Provenger discipline. It was difficult trying to work out all these issues. What he needed was a consultation with a Provenger lawyer. Fortunately, none had hung their shingles in Cortez yet. He was glad he hadn’t told her. Now that they were gone, he could focus.

He’d said goodbye to all of them in a rush, explaining to Carson exactly where to stay in a very nice hotel downtown. Rick pulled his son aside. “Carson, I don’t know exactly how long I’ll be gone. I want you to stay gone for the next three days. Leave your phone off. Don’t turn it on to call me unless it’s life or death. They might be able to track you. After three days, come home. I’m going to keep the dogs here, at the house. If I’m not here when you come back, depending on how they act or don’t act, you’ll know how bad it might be. Send Utu up to check. First, drive by the house. If everything is okay, I’ll leave a shirt hanging over the front gate. Remember who you have in the car. Two ancient humans, one with authority issues that can talk circles around most people, except regarding wheels and things like that. Just keep in mind he’s smart but he doesn’t know a lot about a lot of things. And then Shainan who can’t talk at all and is supposed to be from Armenia and deaf. Neither of them have really ever been out of the house except Shainan that one time with you. They’ll both be very interested in everything they see, and you’ll have to keep a close eye on them. Understand?”

“Sure, Dad. Keep track of them. I understand.”

“You also have an alien who currently looks like she’s been through a nuclear accident. So please, drive slowly. Make sure she wears her hat. You really don’t want to get pulled over.” Rick gave Carson five thousand in cash and made sure the others had their ID and another thousand dollars each. He also stowed a few pounds of gold under the liner in the trunk.

Nwella had been lucky in her timing. The Provenger, in addition to allowing her the surgery to enable her to grow hair, had also created an identity for her to include birth certificate and other identification. Nwella and Rick were both unsure if they’d had time to make the documents valid on Earth.

Rick sent them away in a flurry of confusion and tears. He promised to be careful and see them again.

An hour later, Rick had used the gauntlet to transport himself to a hill above a small mountain town in the Andes. He instinctively took cover behind a boulder and surveyed the area. The rolling countryside was sparsely treed yet still green enough to make his camouflage appropriate. He should have been placed no further than three hundred and fifty yards and uphill from Ryvil’s location. All he had to do was find him.

Rick immediately recognized that the terrain was very similar to the areas where he would predator hunt in canyon country. This was his most important predator hunt yet. He couldn’t afford to fail now, especially after all they’d been through and all the luck they’d had. He was hoping it hadn’t run out.

Rick had arrived cloaked and quickly realized he didn’t need to be concerned about being seen. He lifted the binoculars hanging from his neck and scanned the area downhill. Perfect, he thought. He immediately picked up two figures on the terrain below him, approximately three hundred yards away in a boulder field. He immediately recognized one of them as Syrjon. Rick was glad he didn’t have to kill him. The other he knew to be Ryvil. Rick’s gauntlet had been programmed by Synster to bring him this distance from Ryvil, and Rick recognized him from a picture he’d been shown. There was no doubt.

“This is going to be easier than I thought.”

His view of them seemed to squirm a bit, as though there was a heat shimmer mirage between him and the target. Rick knew heat wasn’t the problem. It was rather cool out and a little overcast. The rocks around him weren’t hot, and he doubted others were further down the slope. Rick hadn’t used the cloak while looking through optics before but guessed that might have something to do with it. He touched his gauntlet and deactivated the cloak. He grabbed his Remington, assumed a prone position over a small boulder, and put it to his shoulder while checking to ensure the muzzle area was clear. In a moment he found them again. With the cloak off, they were perfectly clear. The smaller figure, Syrjon, stooped and disappeared behind a boulder.

Considering all the environmental conditions, Rick knew this would be a simple shot. His scope was zeroed for exactly this range, there was no wind, slightly downhill. Easy. Rick had already carefully chambered a round before he left the house. He moved his thumb to the safety and pushed it forward to the “fire” position. He suspended his breathing and relaxed the core of his torso. He then focused on only two points, the reticle of the scope on Ryvil’s chest and the growing pressure between the pad of his index finger and the surface of his trigger. He maintained those two points, having no idea when the shot might come.

The shot cracked before Rick thought it would while the center of the reticle was perfectly positioned high on Ryvil’s chest. Right where all the goodies connect, Rick thought. He should be down.

Rick instantly cycled the bolt action and reacquired his target. Ryvil was still standing. Without thinking, Rick positioned the reticle on the same spot on Ryvil’s chest, built pressure on the trigger, and another shot cracked from the rifle. It happened so automatically that when Rick delivered the second shot, it felt like merely an echo from the first. Rick cycled the bolt again and reacquired, but Ryvil wasn’t there! Something was very wrong.

Rick quickly checked to ensure there was no obstruction forward of the muzzle, something he thought he’d already done. There was nothing in front of him. It had been a clear shot. A feeling of terror overwhelmed him. What if Ryvil had his shield up? Shit!

Rick scanned the area for his target. He could find nothing. Then he realized that even if he could find him, he still couldn’t shoot through the shield. He’d failed.

Rick instinctively flipped the safety off “fire” with his thumb
and was placing the rifle down in front of him to push himself up when he felt crushed by a boot between his shoulder blades and the full weight of a body above it. He immediately knew someone had been closing on his position while he’d been preoccupied with his task. Two eight-inch-long knives slid past both sides of his neck and stuck into the rocky soil, pinning him. It was Syrjon!

“Not a very nice way to thank us for everything we’ve done!” he said in a polite but forceful tone.

Rick didn’t know what to say. He felt like an ass, and he knew this time he was really a dead man. Everything was ruined. He just hoped they wouldn’t kill Carson and was glad he’d sent them to Denver. Maybe they would still have a chance.

“I wasn’t shooting at you. By the way, did you get our thank you note?”

Syrjon smiled, remembering Rick’s general good humor in stressful situations. “No, it must be in the mail,” Syrjon laughed. “We must wait here for a moment. Ryvil is coming up the hill and he might have a few things to say to you before we finish our business here. I’d advise you not to move. I wouldn’t want you to get cut on my blades.”

In fact, Rick couldn’t move, pinned as he was. He thought about making a lunge for his pistol but knew the angle was wrong to get a quick grab at it. In that moment of hesitation, Syrjon removed the temptation by pulling the pistol from its holster with his free hand.

“You won’t be needing this.”

Rick heard movement below and knew Ryvil must be approaching.

“So this is our shooter!” bellowed Ryvil.

“Rick Thompson, our Candidate Species,” stated Syrjon.

“Are we to thank you also for the destruction to our ship?” Ryvil inquired, but sounding as if he already knew.

Rick figured he’d better not admit to anything other than what he knew they were sure of. He asked, “Regarding this little shooting incident, I don’t suppose we could chalk this up as just following orders and forget about the whole thing?”

“No, I’m afraid we can’t do that. Your action has changed everything. As your kind says, that bell cannot be un-rung,” Ryvil responded. He picked up the rifle and, admiring it, put it back down a considerable distance from Rick’s reach. He nodded to Syrjon, who pulled the gauntlet blades out of the ground, releasing Rick’s neck. “You see, we now have the opportunity to know, with all certainty, who put you up to this. Synster?”

Rick sensed he had no options left. If these guys could get distracted from him and his family by fighting each other, all the better. “Yes, Synster.”

Rick, with his face partially in the dirt, could only sense that they were either signaling or somehow communicating to each other. He felt some of the weight lift from his back.

“We aren’t going to kill you. Or harm you in any way,” said Ryvil. “You are very valuable to us. You must consider us allies, both to you and your entire race.”

Syrjon’s foot lifted entirely from Rick’s back. Rick rolled over slowly, not believing what he was hearing, though every indication was that he would live. “What?”

“We were alerted that the ship has been compromised,” Syrjon explained. “Its main power source has been lost, irretrievably. Luckily, following protocol, we had our shields up, and you were not able to hit Ryvil. Regarding the ship, it will never phase again, at least not without help. Its ability to travel is severely impaired. If it were to come here as fast as it could, it would take many, many years.”

“There is much we cannot tell you in case you are suspected and questioned,” Ryvil added, “but we will offer as evidence of our honesty only that we let you live after trying to kill us. Another Provenger ship may come. Knowing this, Synster will be intent on continuing his project. You must continue in your current capacity.”

Rick sat up. Syrjon unloaded Rick’s 1911, dropping the magazine and locking the slide to the rear. He handed it back to him, not completely convinced he was now calm.

“Though our goals,” Ryvil nodded at Syrjon, “and yours are not exactly the same, they are similar in that the survival of the human race is desirable. We will be able to help you on occasion, but not in any way that can be made obvious. You may already realize that with the reduced power capabilities of the ship, harvests will not continue. But Synster will pursue the correction of human diets for the elimination of drugs and unnatural additives. He wants his harvest organic. All this can only help the human race, in the short run.”