IN NATURA: a science fiction novel (ARZAT SERIES Book 2) (18 page)

  So, the Arzats in this new world considered humans to be their enemies, even their prey,
she thought. It was disturbing but not altogether surprising. Ara herself had secretly considered what the humans might taste like finely roasted. Apparently, the Arzats who inhabited this new world found them to be quite palatable. Her realization of that fact did not bode well for Alex, or Tom the Pilot for that matter.

  Ara also realized something else of interest. This female apparently did not speak the same tongue as Alex and Tom and the rest of the humans she had so far encountered. She had no problem interpreting the meanings of the little female’s thoughts telepathically, but they initially came to her more as pictures than words or concepts. She wondered if Tom the Pilot would be able to directly communicate with her using the spoken word.

  Ara suddenly remembered that she had left him unguarded and she was anxious to get back to him. But if she sprang on the little female, Ara felt that she might literally die of fear. This human was rightfully afraid of Arzats.

  Ara again tested the ground and the air. There were no other immediate signs of trouble, other than the ones this strange female was likely to create.
Perhaps I should just leave her,
she briefly considered, then thought better of it. It seemed that this human had direct knowledge of Alex’s capture.

  She focused again on the female’s mind and began speaking to her with her thoughts. “I am Ara, daughter of the great Hunter Zan. You are in no danger from me, little human Maria.”

* * *

Maria held her breath. She knew the sound of the stick snapping had probably crossed the water, but she wasn’t sure if anyone in the camp had heard it or would do anything about it. Then, for just a moment, she had seen movement in the shadows of the firelight on the other side. She held her breath, but nothing had happened that indicated she had been discovered, so perhaps she was safe.

  Still, for some reason, she suddenly had the uncomfortable feeling that she was being watched. Then, there was a strange feeling in her head and a brief sense of pain that quickly passed, followed by a sort of indescribable itch. Something was repeating over and over in her mind, but she did not seem to be in control of it. It was like a dream in a language that was far different than her own—yet the same. Was she going crazy?

  She had seen many others in her tribe fall into the evil pit of madness before and never recover from it. Their minds simply snapped under the weight of life’s woes, perhaps due to the loss of a child to fever or hunger or to the loss of a mate who never returned from a hunt. But despite the ordeal she had been through, up to this point, she had still felt quite sane. Now she began to wonder.

  “I am Ara, daughter of the great Hunter Zan. You have nothing to fear from me little human.” It was coming to her like a whisper. Slowly, the message and its full meaning were becoming clearer in Maria’s head.

  Maria held her breath once again, her heart about to explode.
Perhaps the gods are speaking to me directly,
she thought, certain that what she was hearing was not originating in her own mind.

  “You have nothing to fear from me, little human female. I am Ara, daughter of the great Hunter Zan. I am an Arzat, though I had nothing to do with the Arzat’s who killed your people. I will not harm you unless you try to harm me. Do you understand?” Ara watched the human closely, trying to determine whether her message was reaching her.

  Maria had a tingling sensation run up her back. She realized she was being watched from behind. She instinctively wanted to turn and look, but she was frozen with fear. Her body simply would not allow it. Although she had understood the message, she was terrified of what she would see when she turned around.

  “I will not hurt you,” Ara repeated, sensing the woman was about to panic.

CHAPTER 24

PACK LEADER

Mot heard them snarling and fighting even before he could smell them, though the sound was coming from far up the river. He bent down and tested the ground with his fingertips and felt the presence of many animals up ahead. They sounded dangerous, but they were definitely not Arzats. These were four-legged creatures but much smaller than the buffalo he had just hunted.

  Perhaps they were the “dog” beasts the Pilot described as having once been the main predators of this region. “Wolves,” he remembered Tom calling them.
Perhaps they were here again,
he thought, listening intently to their incomprehensible barking and moaning.
Perhaps they too had survived the great fire rock.
Whatever the creatures were, Mot was not looking forward to a close encounter with them.

  He switched his killing stick from one hand to the other and continued on. Mot had been carefully following the scent and the tracks of the male Arzat throughout the night. Shortly after he had left camp, Alex’s scent had become much weaker and more intermingled with the male. He continued to worry that the Arzat had simply killed her, but Alex’s faded scent did not yet carry the unmistakable stench of death, nor had he found any physical evidence of her demise.

  Mot reasoned that the unknown Arzat that had captured Alex had decided to carry her. That made sense.
That is how I would have done it,
he thought, as he focused on the threatening sounds up ahead. The Arzat would be able to travel much faster and Alex’s relatively light weight would be easy to manage, even over a great distance. It would also explain the very vague scent of Alex that lingered along with the much stronger scent of the Arzat.

  What did not make sense to Mot is why the Arzat would be traveling alone. Usually Arzats hunted in groups of at least eight individuals. In the world Mot had come from, it was a bad idea to ever venture out alone—even forbidden. It was a lesson he had personally learned the hard way. Yet, here
he
was again, in the very same position, now that he thought about it.
Perhaps this other Arzat, for some unknown reason, has made the same mistake.
He could only hope so. If the Arzat was indeed alone, Mot knew he would have a much easier time taking Alex away from him. He could already imagine his killing stick buried deep in the Arzat’s throat.

  When he had traveled a few more steps, he suddenly encountered the vague and fading scent of another male Arzat that was quite different from the one he had been following all night. Mot sniffed and flicked his tongue. This particular Arzat had been in this place before, but not nearly as recently as the Arzat who had stolen his human friend.

  As he neared the sound of the dogs, he also encountered the distinctive but also fading odor of even more Arzats. It took him a moment to sort out their various scents, but he eventually counted six in addition to the male he had been following. This was disturbing but made perfect sense. Mot had discovered the rest of the hunting party. He suddenly felt both anger and despair welling up inside of him.
Now,
he feared,
there is almost no chance that Alex will survive.

  Mot took a stronger grip on his killing stick and moved silently through the trees. There was a slight breeze that shifted in his direction and he was suddenly almost overwhelmed with the smell of decaying human flesh.  A sense of dread swept over him. Was this the smell of Alex?

  He charged forward, oblivious of the danger, and suddenly found himself in a clearing full of angry dogs. The beasts yelped, surprised at Mot’s sudden appearance, and ran into a pack. There were perhaps eight by three of them, their fangs bared and their heads low. They soon recovered from Mot’s surprise entrance into the camp and began to growl and circle.

  Mot realized his mistake too late. He was now facing a force much greater than he could deal with. He immediately sized up the area out of the corners of his eyes, looking for a way of escape, all the while keeping his main vision on the lone dog that seemed to be in charge of the pack.
There is always one,
he thought,
no matter the species.

  Mot could immediately tell that this had been a human camp. No Arzat Hunter, as far as he knew, would ever have set up camp in such an open area and certainly no Arzat that he knew of would have been able to start a fire.
The hunters must have attacked the humans as they slept,
he surmised,
and dressed them here
. The dogs had obviously been feasting on the humans’ remains, which were scattered around the campsite.

  Fortunately, there was no recent scent of Alex. There were the much older scents of the other Arzat Hunters, the still strong odor of the dead humans, and the very strong and unpleasant smell of the dogs—but Alex had not died here. In fact, it didn’t smell as if the Arzat who had taken her had even come back this way. Of that, he was fairly sure and suddenly relieved. If the Arzats had recently eaten, Alex might not be so tempting.

  One of the beasts snarled and Mot turned his attention back to these strange new predators he had never before encountered. The lead dog took a few steps forward. The hair on its back was standing on end, its eyes reflecting red, even in the low light. The dog bared its teeth and snarled deeply, dipping its head in the process. Mot could see that some of the other dogs had fanned out from the pack and were quietly trying to surround him. This was a tactic he was all too familiar with. He knew he needed to act.

  He was grateful now that his mate had had the foresight to provide him with a weapon. Ara would be very upset if she found him in pieces due to his foolish lack of caution. Mot quickly sized up the situation and created a plan—take out the leader and run.

  He hoped that killing the dominant dog would confuse the others long enough for him to make his escape. His father had taught him that lesson long ago, and he had personally seen it work very effectively with other predators. That knowledge, in fact, had already saved his life at least once.

  Without taking his eyes off the pack, Mot chose an escape route out of the clearing and lunged at the pack leader, so quickly and forcefully that the dominant dog had almost no time to react. He drove the sharp end of his killing stick just under the dog’s throat and brutally continued to thrust until he was sure the animal was mortally wounded. It yelped and fell to the ground, dying quickly as blood ran freely from the large gash in its jugular. As Mot had predicted, the other beasts hesitated in confusion and surrounded the fallen dog.

  Mot howled and barred his own teeth, then turned and began to run. Even in the near dark he could see his way quite clearly. He chanced a look over his shoulder and determined that only one or two of the dogs had followed.

  Moments later, he determined that all of them had recovered and joined the chase. He could hear them barking and snarling as they ran after him. But Mot was running with two advantages he knew that the dogs did not possess. The first was that he was far faster. The second was that
he
was the one in fear for his life.

  He soon put some distance between himself and the predators and stopped long enough to place his hands on the ground. Mot was surprised when he could not detect them. He listened carefully, but there was nothing indicating that the beasts were still moving in his direction.
Yes, they have given up,
he realized, after monitoring the ground for some time.

  You must be more careful, Mot son of Url,
he admonished himself, relieved that the dogs were such slow runners.

  He stood back up and took a long look around, flicking the air with his tongue. Panic swelled up inside him. He had done a fine job of escaping the dogs, but in the process, he had completely lost the scent of the Arzat who had stolen Alex.

CHAPTER 25

CHEF  ZA’AT

Za’at was almost beside himself with glee. His bet on the
uman
had paid off after all.

  He had carefully watched the female smooth-skin with her unusual, five-digit hands make fire—and now he knew the secret himself!
Well,
he thought—perhaps a little uncomfortably—
at least I
think
I do.
He was astonished that no other Arzat had considered the method before—a kind of magic. Now there was a fine fire burning in a circle of rocks that he had, in a way, personally helped create. The whole process seemed so simple.

  Such a thing has never been accomplished before,
his mind kept screaming in delight.
I will be the most famous Arzat of all time!

  Za’at added some more dry wood to the flames, keeping a wary eye on the female all the while. “I shall prepare a feast for you, little
uman
, as a reward. You must be hungry,” he said aloud, watching for a reaction.

  Alex could hear the Arzat clearly in her head. Despite all of the telepathy she had experienced with Mot and Ara, she still found it amazing.
Why hadn’t human beings developed the ability to telepath,
she asked herself for the millionth time, still carefully blocking.
Perhaps, Alex, for the very much same reason the Arzats hadn’t yet developed the ability to create fire.

  She watched as the Arzat, apparently satisfied with the progress of his new discovery, rose and retrieved the deer carcass from the tree he had hung it in. He lifted it down as if it weighed almost nothing and set it on a large boulder. Then, he once again unwrapped his black cutting rock from the piece of animal hide that he stored it in.

  The stone still looked to Alex
like some sort of obsidian, but the only light was coming from the campfire, so it was hard to know for sure. The piece definitely had the same sort of facets.
Obviously, his clan has not carried the knowledge of metallurgy forward from the past,
she thought, remembering the stories Mot had told her about the bronze and copper his clan had only recently discovered for use in weapons.

  Nonetheless, the Arzat used the stone very effectively to split the deer’s hindquarter and to cut the resultant sections of meat into smaller pieces. Then, he found a length of green wood, snapped one end to make it sharp, and deftly skewered the meat onto it as if he were any ordinary chef preparing for a backyard barbeque.

  And,
she wondered suddenly,
was he humming?
She wasn’t sure at first—the sound was so guttural and she didn’t hear any specific words in her head.
Yes,
she thought, smiling inside and once again amazed
, I think this guy is actually singing some sort of song!

  Za’at stopped and looked at the female suspiciously. Had the little
uman
said something again? He was almost sure he had heard her speak but was also fairly sure the female had uttered no outward sound. He knew that the humans had a spoken language of some sort, but it was as unintelligible as the sounds of birds chirping. Even if the smooth-skins could speak with each other as the Arzats did aloud, it hadn’t occurred to Za’at that the
umans
might be able to directly communicate mind-to-mind. He suddenly began to wonder and looked into the female’s eyes for some sign of comprehension.

  Alex unconsciously held her breath.
Careful Alex,
she thought in a panic, forcing herself to block as best she could. On her dead father’s advice and by her own common sense, she had resolved not to reveal herself—at least not yet. She knew she had slipped, and the Arzat had immediately picked up on it.

  Za’at continued to stare at the female, growing more and more convinced that there was something she was hiding.
Crafty little thing, aren’t you, little uman? Are you planning another escape?
His large reptilian eyes narrowed as he studied her.

  Despite his ingrained and almost instinctive disgust for all things
uman,
Za’at found himself becoming inexplicably . . . well . . . fond of this particular female for some reason. True, she was rather ugly and her skin was so pale and thin it was hardly worth mentioning . . . but . . . she had been brave enough to slay an Arzat—something he had never heard of an
uman
doing. And, she had also been slippery and clever enough to almost avoid his capture. Only Mek’s comment and Za’at’s lucky revelation of the way she had accomplished her escape had allowed him to find her. Now, she had made fire from nothing and had shown Za’at, son of the great Hunter Qua, how to do so himself!

  He reached into another pocket on his scabbard and produced another pouch made of soft leather. Za’at carefully opened it and pinched some of the contents between his fingers. He held it under his nose and sniffed.

  “Ah, this will make the meat even more delicious,” he said, turning to the female. “Try,” Za’at said aloud, holding his fingers out.

  Alex looked directly back into the crimson eyes of the Arzat. Clearly he was very proud of something. Was this a spice of some sort? He held his hand steadily out, waiting patiently for Alex. She put out the palm of her hand slowly and watched as the Arzat rubbed his index finger to his thumb. A white substance that looked very much like salt fell into her hand.

  “I doubt you have ever experienced such as fine thing as
tat
, my little
uman
friend,” Za’at said proudly. “It comes from a faraway place and is very costly to acquire. I was told by the Arzat traders that it originates from a source of water that is larger than all of the lands combined. It is very good. Taste it and you will see.”

  Za’at used his lighting fast tongue to sample a small pinch from his fingertips by way of example. He then looked expectantly at his unusual companion.

  Alex, still carefully blocking, took a small sample onto her tongue. It
was
salt. Of course! History repeats and this was yet another example. Clearly, this Arzat thought that salt was like gold, and for centuries, it had been traded as if it were by early humans. The paleontologist inside her began working on the issue of how he might have come by it.
Had he said something about traders?

  Za’at saw the female’s facial reaction and was pleased. He carefully sprinkled some additional
tat
on the skewer of meat and held it closely over the fire, which was dying into coals and had become perfect for roasting. After a short time, the meat began to smoke and sizzle.

  The smell was magic to Alex. She was suddenly so hungry that she thought she would burst. And, she realized, she was thirsty as well. Her small sample of Arzat salt had only intensified the feeling.
But, how do I dare ask him for water without giving myself away,
she thought, watching as he expertly roasted the venison.

  Finally, she decided to risk trying with hand signals. Blocking her thoughts the best she could, she gestured and cupped her hand to her face the way an Arzat would if taking a drink.

  Za’at looked up from the fire and stared at the female. It was obvious to him what she wanted. He realized he had not given the little human a drink since he captured her. Normally, he would never have considered parting with such a precious resource but they were almost home, there were undoubtedly lots of small streams in the vicinity, and the
uman
had shown him fire!

  He reached for his water skin and gave it a quick squeeze just to make sure there was still plenty left for the remainder of the trip in case he did have trouble finding more then tossed it to the
uman
.

  Za’at watched in amazement as the
uman
pulled the wooden cork and took a huge sip directly from the mouth of the skin without spilling a drop, a feat that would have been impossible for an Arzat. For some reason, he found the maneuver extremely funny and began to laugh.

  The suddenness of the Arzat’s otherworldly cackle surprised Alex and almost caused her to drop the skin. She looked at the big reptilian before her, amazed at his reaction, and wondered what had been so humorous.
Maybe it was a good sign,
she thought. She carefully placed the wooden cork back into the mouth of the bag and held it out.

  “No, more, more,” the Arzat said to her aloud, still chuckling, not looking her way directly, but seemingly focused on her every move nonetheless. He waived one hand dismissively in her direction while his other continued to slowly turn the skewer of venison over the fire. The smell of the charred meat was becoming more and more intense. Za’at held the skewer up, closer to his face, examining it.
Almost,
he thought. He then lowered the branch back over the fire.

  Her thirst not completely quenched, Alex tentatively repeated the process and watched as the Arzat again chuckled, though this time not as loudly or as long. She noted that despite his interest in the meat, he occasionally would place one of his hands on the ground and flick his tongue to test the air.

  Always alert, these damn guys,
Alex thought quietly.

  Eventually, the Arzat seemed satisfied with his cooking and lifted the sapling loaded with meat from the fire.
There is enough to feed a small army,
she thought,
or at least one large Arzat and hopefully one very hungry girl!

  Suddenly, she remembered Mot and his almost insatiable appetite, and she almost laughed herself, realizing that at this point, she was no different.

  Za’at held up the stick again and pinched one of the hot pieces of meat with the long black nails of his free hand.
It is perfect,
he thought. My first meal cooked over a fire that I myself helped create. I shall never forget this moment.

  He pulled a large piece of venison off the skewer and was about to take a bite when he suddenly thought better of it. Normally, Arzat males always ate first and separately from the females. But this was a special occasion, and although he had no idea what kind of rules might apply to
umans
, this particular
uman
had made the roasting of tonight’s dinner possible.

  He grunted and offered the piece of meat to the female. “Be careful, little female, it is hot!”

  She gingerly took the meat with both hands and began to eat.

  “Thank you,” Alex said aloud without thinking and
without blocking
.

  She watched as the Arzat’s eyes grew even more crimson in the firelight. The creature cocked its head sideways as his reptilian pupils dilated and bore into her own.