Merkiaari Wars: 01 - Hard Duty (38 page)

Shima kept running, but she no longer felt panic forcing her on. She had the wit to think and plan again, and perhaps the time to do it as well. She slowed her mad dash and focused her thoughts upon the Harmonies, sensing the insanely dark minds of the Murderers behind her, knowing they were tracking something more to their liking now. Probably more of her people, Shima realised, and felt guilty for her part in bringing the Murderers here. The hateful alien mind glows felt like poison, it hurt deep in her head to watch them this way. Any member of the healer caste would recognise the jagged edges and dark colours as something requiring the attention of mind healers...
if
the afflicted had been Shan, but the Murderers were alien and insanity was their natural state. The horror of such a thing was so vast, Shima could hardly conceive of it. Youngling lessons did not do the reality of the Merkiaari justice.

Shima snarled and her jaws snapped, biting the air in mindless fury when her inattention dropped her into a fight for her life. Stupid, stupid,
stupid!
Her father would be ashamed of her for letting what was behind her distract from what lay ahead. And what lay ahead was bad, very
very
bad indeed.

Shima tried something she would never normally do, but her situation was dire. She had been running on all fours, not at her best speed but close; now she needed her hands. Badly. She forced herself up onto her hind legs without slowing, snatching desperately for the beamers holstered securely on her harness, and staggered forward trying not to sprawl tail over nose into the chaos.

Snarling and screaming people fought for their lives against Merkiaari warriors in the street while Shan warriors sniped at the grav sleds from the buildings. Merkiaari gunners in the sleds returned fire and buildings burned. Beamers flashed back and forth, people died hideously burned or missing limbs, their blood painting the ground red. Others fought with tooth and claw carrying the Murderers of their cubs and people down into death with them. There must have been hundreds of people already dead and more were piling up as the Merkiaari’s superior weapons raved, sweeping the crowd with unstoppable destruction.

Trying to slow down, change her stride from a four legged run into a two legged one while arming herself proved too much for Shima. Her right hand grasped a beamer but to her dismay it squirted from her grasp. She had never dropped a weapon. Never! But it had happened now and at the worst possible time. She staggered forward trying to regain balance, but she was unable to keep her feet under her. Already falling, she did manage to turn onto her right side so that her left hand could finish reaching for her other beamer. The impact jarred her to the bone, her speed was such that she slid along the road losing fur and skin, but the burning pain of abrasion was nothing to the disaster that befell her next.

Her vision enhancer flew from her face and skittered away.

Tahar had made it for her with love in his heart, but how she hated that thing. The visor-like device marked her as defective, a cripple among her people, and she loathed it, but now was not the time to be rid of it. Without it, she was as near blind as it was possible to be. Instead of buildings and people, she saw dim shadowy shapes where they should be. She kept low and scrambled along the ground in the direction she thought the visor lay. Lucky she did, because the Merkiaari turned their weapons in her direction. She hissed as a hot wind blasted passed her to hit a target behind her. Any closer and the beam would have crisped her ears or taken her head off outright. She couldn’t see a Harmonies cursed thing now, the smoke from burning buildings choked her and dimmed the street so badly that everything blurred into a single hazy shadow.

Patting the ground and sweeping the road with her spare hand, she vowed that if she survived the cycle, she would nail the cursed visor to her head to prevent a situation like this ever happening again. She loved her father and would love him for as long as she drew breath, but she would never reconcile her need for his creation. Her current distress was a mere taste of what the future had in store for her, and she had always known and dreaded it. She would have given anything for a healthy pair of eyes right now.

Someone grabbed her and jerked her roughly back just as a building exploded in front of her. Shima gasped as the pressure wave sucked at the air and flinched as the heat of the sudden blaze slapped her face. She closed her useless eyes and turned away from the blaze. Even to her eyes, it was bright.

“Th... th... thank you,” Shima gasped.

“Welcome,” Shima’s helper said. He sounded calm, but Shima could scent his fear and hear the panting of someone forcing himself to be calm. He took her free hand and wrapped her fingers around her visor. “This thing yours? What does it do?”

Shima’s relief made her muscles go weak. She gripped the hated thing hard and tears of relief burst from her suddenly hot eyes. Her hand shook violently, but she managed to put the visor on. It was still working. Thank the Harmonies it wasn’t damaged. She looked around and found a pale furred male watching her quizzically. He had pulled her into cover behind a smashed ground car and was about her own age she judged, but unlike her, his pelt was a startling light tan colour without any other markings. He would be very visible in the forest wilderness where Shima hunted, but almost invisible in the desert where she was sure his ancestors had roamed free. He was pureblood and very beautiful.

“It lets me see. My eyes are bad without it,” Shima said, trying not to see the pity she was sure she would find upon his face. “My name is Shima. Thank you for helping me.”

“Honoured to be of service, Shima. I am—” a huge explosion drowned out his words and they both cowered as debris rained down upon them, pattering upon the ground like hail. “I am Kazim, this is my ground car, but I fear I cannot offer you a ride in it.”

Shima blinked at his dropped jawed amusement. “Perhaps some other time,” she said. “You were driving when this happened?” The car was on its side and obviously damaged by weapons fire. It would never work again. “The Harmonies must watch over you if you were.”

“Happily I was not inside when this happened. I caught the entire thing on camera. My supervisor was very impressed. She said it went out live.”

That was when Shima’s addled brain realised Kazim was not holding a weapon. It was a camera he was pointing at the fighting not a beamer. He was braver than her to calmly film the massacre of their people and not have a weapon out. Thoughts of weapons reminded her of the lost beamer.

Shima scanned the ground and found her missing weapon in the middle of the street. She glanced around, tensed her muscles, and sprang out into the open at full stretch. Kazim cursed in surprise at her move, but before he could do more, she had snatched up her beamer and had leapt back to join him.

“Next time warn me, I missed the shot,” Kazim said doing something to his camera before panning it around at the burning buildings and fighting people. “That would have made for a very dramatic sequence.”

“Do all journalists talk out of their tails the way you do?” Shima grumbled as she checked her weapons.

Kazim flicked his ears in agreement. “Most I would say. It’s a very competitive environment.”

Shima snorted. She wondered what Kazim’s parents and sibs thought of him choosing the arts for his caste. She would wager a handsome sum that his clan did not have many people like Kazim within its ranks. Shima’s clan had always specialised in science and engineering, and had done very well by that. She couldn’t imagine what an itinerant life like Kazim’s would feel like. Waking each cycle not knowing where he would go or what he would see, or even where he would sleep the next night. It was hard to imagine. Shima’s life was orderly, and she liked it that way. Her research had logical steps and goals. She liked goals, and she liked knowing what to do to reach them. Her only goal right now was finding and protecting Chailen.

Chailen was all that mattered now her father was gone.

“We should get out of here,” Shima said aiming at a particularly large Merki. Nice big target like that. Would be a shame not to take advantage. She fired both beamers into the alien, but felt only mild satisfaction as it died. She had Chailen to find. Killing Merkiaari didn’t bring her sib closer. “This won’t end well.”

Kazim flicked his ears in agreement. “You go. I’ll stay and film for a while longer.”

“You want to die?” Shima killed another alien, this one a smaller example. A male she guessed if her lessons were right about females being bigger. “Haven’t you seen enough here, don’t you want to see what happens tomorrow?”

Kazim’s jaw dropped in a laugh, and he abandoned his filming. He slid down behind the car and into cover. “You think there will be a tomorrow? Don’t you know the Murderers landed warriors on Harmony too? These are the end times, Shima.”

Shima’s whiskers drew down as if scenting something foul. “You can’t believe in that drivel. Prophecies are a product of delusional minds, Kazim.”

“Look at them!” Kazim said gesturing toward the fighting. “How can you doubt this is the end?”

“Easily. My father taught me common sense! Our people survived this once, we will again. The Murderers won’t take our worlds easily, certainly not today, Kazim. Don’t you want to be there?” Shima took aim and fired both beamers, and added slyly. “Don’t you want to film it all as it happens?”

Kazim waved his ears jauntily. “I should probably consider it my duty to record the end times, no?”

“Certainly! It would be a crime not to. Future generations of younglings are relying upon you, Kazim.”

Kazim smirked, but his tail lifted to shoulder height and gestured acceptance. “No need to lay it on any thicker. I will come with you... where might that be and how do we get there?”

“Kachina Twelve... and ummm,” Shima faltered and looked around for inspiration. “Through there,” she gestured at the collapsed building closest to them.”

“You’re joking,” Kazim said. “You do see the flames?”

“We can make it into the next district and find somewhere to hide until night. We can’t stay here, Kazim. These people are brave, but they are not thinking.”

“They have lost home and clan—”

“I know, I do not lay blame, but we must think long term not short. This is the first cycle of a new war. We will not win it in this street.”

Kazim agreed reluctantly. “It feels wrong to leave them to die.”

Shima silently agreed but kept her thoughts to herself. They had made their decision to fight and die here. She had Chailen to protect, and did not have that luxury. There would be other times and other fights, she vowed, after she made Chailen safe.

“Follow,” Shima said and ran in a crouch toward the burning building.

Behind her she head Kazim scramble to follow.

The rubble was easy enough to climb; it was the fire that made things interesting. She avoided the obvious dangers, leading Kazim wide around them, but she couldn’t escape them all. Rubble shifted beneath her weight opening voids beneath that seethed with flame. The fresh air caused the fires to flare anew and Shima cowered away from them. The piles of masonry were hot beneath her paws and she flinched, her hands burned when she pulled herself up and then over the last barrier. Kazim hissed as he burned himself similarly, but said nothing as he rolled over the top and part way down the far side.

Shima scrambled after him. “You alright?” Shima asked him, his pelt was blackened and filthy now. As was hers. “We can’t stop here.”

“Fine... I’m fine. Just a little scorched,” Kazim said raising his blistered paw. “You?”

Shima winced, that must hurt. Her burns certainly did. She ignored his question. “Come, we need to find somewhere quiet to hide until dark.”

Shima led the way down and into the street. The sound of the fighting was muted here, and the district seemed all quiet. They stayed on two legs and ran directly away from the fighting, their ears flattening when larger explosions elsewhere in the city sounded. Shima used the Harmonies to steer them both from danger. Although they saw no one, they were aware the Murderers could appear overhead in their grav sleds, or march around any corner at any time.

Shima kept them moving, staying close to buildings and using them for cover as much as possible.

“You have a plan?”

Shima didn’t, but no need to say that. “Of course. As I said, we will hide and travel at night. My sib is waiting for me at Kachina Twelve.”

“Kachina Twelve,” Kazim mused. “I was allocated Kachina Eight, but twelve is better. It’s sector command for the entire continent; I should be able to get better access to information there.”

“How do you know that?” Shima asked in surprise. “Not saying you’re wrong, but that sort of thing is supposed to be secret in case the Murderers catch us.”

“My mother’s third cousin’s best friend mated outside the clan. Big scandal at the time. He was always a little too adventurous. Any way, he mated a warrior caste female. Fierce little thing, you would like her... if you didn’t kill each other first. You remind me of her.”

“You calling me fierce?”

“Brave,” Kazim corrected. “And you fight well. You killed those two Merkiaari as if you do it every day, but you’re not warrior caste are you?”

“Are you interviewing me, recording are you?”

“Always,” Kazim said without any sign of embarrassment. “You never know what will be important later. Not warrior caste, but something related I bet. Are you Fleet?”