Koban 5: A Federation Forged in Fire (50 page)

Haveram looked at the floor inside the raptor pen, and spotted a badly bent and crushed submachine gun. The weapon had probably been in the man’s hand when he came too close, or perhaps reached through the bars with the muzzle of the weapon. A whiteraptor, even one this young, was fast and deadly. The man could have been eviscerated by either one of the long inner toe claws of the raptor if he’d been pulled closer to the bars.

There was a rapid exchange in Arabic, which Haveram had translated for him by his AI, Bela, and relayed to his, and the other Kobani’s Comtaps. The injured man wanted the raptor killed, but after Captain Kader saw the blue-green hued animals, and their variety, he ordered his men to hold their fire or risk the Sheik’s displeasure.

Haveram made a mental link silently and thought, “At least we seem to have more than Billy Boy to interest them. I’d think Kader would know what sort of things interest his boss, or that he might want to buy to sell to other Sheiks. I’ll try to get a group meeting set up, with Sayed playing the seller. Perhaps we won’t have to travel as much as we thought.”

The “Billy Boy” reference triggered a mental image of a hand, with a single middle finger extended from the nice young lad. Haveram called Kadar’s attention to the partition located the farthest from the animals, and they walked to its entrance, where another searcher waited, a small Tri-Vid camera dangling from a shoulder strap. The man held a drawing and a picture, as Haveram now noticed several other men carried as well.

He glanced at the two sheets, and the drawing was of a young blond boy, which bore a passing resemblance to Bill Sabre. The other sheet was a picture of a man with blond hair and thin build, which could be an older version of the hand drawn youth. Haveram glanced at Bill, and was pleased to note that, despite being a bit dirty and disheveled now, with his hair a bit longer, he could pass as being related to the persons in either picture. Haveram knew that the older man’s picture was of the father of the dead boy, and Saber actually looked more like him than did that hand drawing.

Haveram gestured to the captive. “Captain, this boy, when I took possession of him from my Poldark government informant, told me his father would send people to rescue him, and that they would kill me. Seems that he thinks his father is rich and powerful. He refused to say his name, but kindly allow me to introduce you to Arkedy Christoph.”

Saber, playing his rehearsed role, let his jaw drop in shock at the revelation of that name. Then he leaped up and extended his shackled hands to grasp the heavy grid wire of his cage. “Then you know that my family will hunt all of you down if you hurt me. Our security men are already hunting you.” He managed to look scared to counter his brave words.

Haveram grinned. “Your tracker was being jammed while you were on Poldark, and as soon as we Jumped, it was light years out of range. The ring shaped gadget I passed over your right leg and thigh yesterday killed the transmitter. You aren’t being followed, and no one is coming. Sorry kid. Nothing personal. You’re just trade goods to me.”

Kader had taken the camera from his flunky, and now trained it on the boy as he activated the camera. A small antenna extruded from the top, so the image was probably being transmitted to the Sheik in his palace. As confirmation, Kader tilted his head in the typical “listening” posture, nodded as he said “Of course, Noble One.” and moved closer to the pen with the camera.

“Turn sideways.” The man ordered Saber.

“Screw you.” Sabre answered defiantly.

Kader laughed. “This is a proof of life video you stupid boy. There will be no ransom paid to send you home alive if they think you are already dead. In that case you
will
be dead when we send your mangled remains home in a small box.”

Sabre, showing the proper degree of sullenness, turned his side and profile to the camera.

Kader listened again, and then said, “The exotic animals on the Falcon were destined for a customer on another planet, but Captain Haveram has said he will entertain selling them here….” A pause.

“My Sheik, you have not seen the like of these on any world. They are new to Human Space…” Another pause. “I have no doubt he will be honored to accept, after proper preparation.” Kadar looked sternly at Haveram as he said this. Then apparently, the Sheik cut the connection.

He turned to face Haveram. “Sheik Sayed has invited you to his palace tomorrow, and will discuss the financial arrangement for your delivery of this boy. After he transmits the images of your other cargo to various collectors that he knows, he will take possession of your secondary cargo. He has offered to pay you a generous finder’s commission, provided he is successful at selling them. If there are no buyers, he will keep them, as part of your introductory calling card, as you described the purpose of your visit.”

There was no question Haveram was
donating
his other cargo to the Sheik, and had to settle for whatever commission Sayed decided was fair.

Haveram bowed slightly. “I hope the Sheik knows knowledgeable buyers, who will appreciate the rarity and uniqueness of these creatures. They are very hard to obtain, and have great value.”

Kader looked over at the two staring and relaxed rippers across the passage from where the boy was being held. “I assure you, he knows. Before you and I arrived in the hold, Sheik Sayed had my man sending him images of all of the animals. Coincidentally, he had asked the other guard, the man that was injured, to prod the agitated giant bird that bit off his hand. That footage will hugely increase the price he can ask, I think.”

He smiled at the cruelty of his boss’ casually risking the safety of one of his employee’s, if employee was the proper term on Khartoum’s Destiny for men that worked for the despot.

Haveram’s sympathy was only half-pretended for the poor man. “I suppose a month in a med lab will initiate the growth of a new hand and forearm for the unfortunate fellow.” Haveram raised an eyebrow to imply that was a question.

Kadar shook his head. “I think not. At least not this year. Reem has displeased me in the past with his performance. It’s useful to use this opportunity to encourage greater obedience from him in the future. I’m sure after a year he will want his hand back.” He shrugged, showing it was of little importance to the captain.

Again, looking at the rippers, he said, “It’s fortunate he wasn’t asked to step too close to those…,” He struggled with a descriptor, “Panthers?” he ventured.

Haveram smiled as he saw the two rippers, Kim and Karl, pivot ears to listen. They of course understood Standard, and could speak it to him via their new Comtaps. “No, they are considered more like tigers, but much larger of course. Being called rippers should furnish you with an idea of how they behave in the wild. Ironically, the man who poked the raptor through the bars would have been completely safe if he’d walked into the cage with Kim and Karl. That’s the names of these two, and they will answer to them. Both are completely tame animals. At least as tame as wild beasts can be that were raised from cubs by humans. I didn’t believe it myself until I saw them playing with the crew that transferred them to me. They depend on humans for food and care, and they’re very intelligent. I feed them myself, to make certain they like me.”

Kadar looked doubtfully at the two big cats, now sitting up as if from the mention of their names. “Tame? How do you feed them, stick meat on the end of a long pole?”

“I’ll show you.”

Haveram walked to a cooler inside the partitions around their pen. He raised the lid, grabbed two sizable hunks of red meat from inside, and popped them into a warmer unit on the side of the cooler for a few seconds. He explained, as he pulled the warm meat out. “They like warm meat, at close to natural body temperature.”

He stepped to the double manual latches on the top and bottom of the hinged door, and slid the first one to the unlatched position. This alarmed Kadar, who objected. “Careful, this submachine gun probably wouldn’t stop them if they decide to charge through that door.”

“I can guarantee you that it probably wouldn’t stop them before they got outside. After that, if not fatally hit, you definitely couldn’t stop them if they were in hunting mode. But I’ll put you at ease.” He winked at the cats with the eye Kadar couldn’t see.

“Kim, Karl, get back and sit.”

The two cats backed up to the far end of the pen, and sat side by side, licking their lips, panting.

“If you want, you can slide the latches back in place after I step inside, and watch me feed them their snacks.”

“Wait a moment.” Kadar called in two of his men, and speaking Arabic told them to latch the cage door immediately after Haveram stepped inside. The captain promised to cover them with his submachine gun. They looked nervous, but stepped close to Haveram, who they clearly considered insane.

Haveram opened the cage door part way and stepped inside, with the mesh pushing against his ass as the two henchmen quickly shoved it closed and latched it before they backed away from the half expected mayhem.

Haveram walked calmly to the cats, as Kim Comtapped a bright and amusing thought to him.
“Would it look scary enough if I jumped towards you and put my paws on your shoulders?”

“Don’t you dare! That asshole with the gun pointed at us might shoot me in the back trying to protect me from you.”

“OK. But I’d like to see his expression.”

Holding his hands out with a large rhinolo steak in each, the two rippers delicately bit into the dangling hunks as he released them. They then crouched down on their front forelegs and holding the bloody chunks with their claws, tore at the meat, pulling gobbets off to swallow whole with minimal chomping.

Karl looked up and thought at him,
“Tame enough for you?”

“Yes. Thanks.”

Kim, her previous joke thwarted, had a complaint.
“You could at least have washed your hands before handling our meat. It has a strange flavor. Did you just scratch your butt?”

“Humph.”
Haveram grunted.
“The bad ass predator is picky today. How can you claim to have wild instincts if your prey needs to bathe first? I’ll bet your Mom opens cans of cat food for you at dinner time.”

The canned food remark was a frequent barb delivered by cats from wild prides, and directed at rippers that were raised with humans. It wasn’t entirely without merit. Imported pet food from human worlds had finally arrived on Koban, featuring exotic alien flavors (to rippers) such as tuna, beef, or pork. Those treats became nightly deserts for many cats, after a normal gorging meal of whatever Koban meat was in the family’s food locker.

Kim thought back,
“Did you hunt and kill the pastry you had for breakfast?”

“Touché.”

“Touch what?”

“I mean you made your point. I eat treats too that I didn’t hunt.”

“Do we get out of here now that he sees we didn’t eat you?”
Asked Karl.

“Not likely. Just bide your time. You’ll probably have to break out later.”

Haveram reached over to scratch the ears of the two rippers as a demonstration for the Arabs, and Karl obligingly made a fake purring sound. The big cats had now met human cats and dogs, which were brought to Haven for the older humans, who had owned them as pets before their capture by the Krall. The rippers were aware the ridiculously tiny cats made that odd vibrating noise of contentment, which their owners liked. Coming from an eight hundred pound male ripper, it sounded deeper and more ominous, but Karl persisted in acting as if non-Kobani were put at ease by the sound he made.

The irony was that dogs and rippers liked each other, at least after the dogs had been frilled, and learned the big predators liked them, and weren’t going to attack them. Cats however, didn’t care for the mental patterns or attitudes of rippers, and the rippers said cats had odd ways of thinking. Pet cats didn’t care if they killed things they didn’t want to eat, and didn’t always care a great deal for the people that devoted lavish affection on them.

Mentally, when a Kobani objectively compared the Mind Tap thoughts of all three species, they realized that long domesticated dogs thought more like people, and most people already thought a little like rippers, making mutual friendships possible between the three groups. Socially, a sense of belonging to a pride, a pack, or a family, pulled them together.

An Earth bred cat on the other hand or paw, despite a long period of domestication behind them, merely tolerated rippers, dogs, and strange humans around them. They might like or love their “personal” human, but could be quite indifferent to them at times, or even reject them. They had no empathy for the concept of a pride at all. In that respect, the rippers said domestic cats were like the loner desert panthers of Koban, or the Jura continent mated lion pairs. All Koban felines had frill ability, but each species had formed different social structures, united only in the common desire to sense their prey’s thoughts as they died, gaining insight to the minds of what they killed, and appreciation of not killing them for other than food.

Haveram turned his back on the cats and walked to the cage door. Neither man that locked him inside moved to release the slide latches, so he reached through the six-inch square grids and slid the top and bottom bolts open. By now there were at least a dozen men watching him, and as he swung the gate open, all had weapons directed in his general direction. They relaxed when he slid the latches back to seal the gate, unaware that these Koban born animals, or Haveram himself, could break out without opening the door.

He looked at Kadar, and shrugged, “They’re not a threat to the people that feed them.”

The captain nodded his chin down once, in acceptance of his statement. Some of the other onlookers clearly spoke Standard, at least to some extent, because a few made a single upward head movement, which in this culture meant negation. They didn’t believe that.

Kader let him know the Sheik wanted the boy and animals taken from the ship, but that Haveram would receive guest quarters near the animals to ensure they were properly transferred and fed, and until he showed the Sheik’s Master of the Menagerie, as he was called, how to care for the new animals.