Hunter Rogue
They
spent a week observing each other.
Alarms
sounded as Pansler and Towers were eating with the colonists. The colonists headed for the trees and
climbed as far up as possible. Pansler
and Towers ran with Arton toward the communication viewer at the gate.
"Some
animal's got itself caught in the barrier." A guard spoke to Arton. "Procedure says to flush the system, but
my supervisor says to check everything through you now," a definite pause,
"Sir."
"Meet
us at the barrier. Wait for my
orders."
The
barrier was an electronic tunnel separating two radically different
biostations. As the doctors neared it,
they found a rope leaning against the barrier, obviously thrown over the top
and onto the other side, where it was tied to the branch of a cactus. But somehow, the rope was slipping, dumping
slowly into the barrier a muscular figure.
Her arms were full. She couldn't
grab and pull the rope.
"It's
Hunter Rogue!" Dr. Arton
exclaimed. "She's used leaves as a
basket. And her basket is full of fish!"
The
guard commented, "The next biostation is a desert. Where the hell did it get the fish?"
"Let's
worry about getting her out of there first." Towers suggested.
The
guard just stared at her.
"Guard,
did you hear Dr. Towers? Find a way to
get the -- colonist out of there."
Pansler was out of breath.
"Great
Bitugas -- talking humans!"
"Guard!" Arton growled.
"Yes,
sir?" He snapped to attention, but
still kept one eye on Towers.
They
hauled on the rope while the guard shut off the electricity. Hunter Rogue went into convulsions as her
body relaxed from the near deadly voltage.
She
heard the New Females talk. The god talks. The Second New answers him.
And
does not die!
The
First New speaks to her. Hunter reaches
up, touches the female's lips to feel them move. The female speaks, and yet the
gods do not kill her.
"She
doesn't make a sound! She's in agony and
doesn't cry out." Towers held
Hunter in her arms. Hunter brushed her
fingers across Towers' lips. "What
kind of taboo would give her that much will power?"
"Katargans
believe one only speaks to praise God."
"Katargans?" Arton felt Hunter's pulse.
"It's
a long story, Munsi. Let's get Hunter to
our ship's sick bay."
"What
about her fish?" the guard asked as
they walked away.
The
smell woke her up. It was wrong. It was like winter -- cold and odorless. But this was not winter. She swam in the lake yesterday.
Memories
slowly bounced across her mind: the fire
tunnel, fish, much fish, slippery fingers.
The fire tunnel snatched her wet feet.
The New Females spoke to the gods.
She
touched her own lips and sighed. The god
had heard her singing to the Sphardiclarkin.
He had caught her in his fire tunnel because she sang, and singing was
much more like speaking than laughing.
And now she was dead.
She
sniffed the air again and opened her eyes.
Gray. Clouds were gray. She was in the clouds. That made sense.
She sat
up. Her body hurt. Her feet tingled; the hair was gone from her
legs. She nodded knowingly. You must give up something to go to
heaven. She had given up her hair.
Still
forms snorted in the grayness.
Other
dead animals? She hadn't thought about
that. She didn't like dead things. They smelled.
Maybe
she would smell, too.
She
sniffed again. A change in the
wind. It made her head swim. She lay back down and succumbed to the
anesthetic.
Uri Pansler typed into the computer:
Day five. We've played subliminal linguistic tapes
while the colonists sleep. We sit with
them every chance we can.
The colonists are not adapting well
to their new environment. Most have
refused to eat. Four Fingers has mated
repeatedly with Climber; the poor man is exhausted. Puffy nurses constantly. Some of the older colonists seem catatonic.
This move on board has been much
more traumatic than we anticipated.
Dr. Arton suggests we keep them
sedated until we bridge the communication gap between us, but our time is
limited. In five and a half months, we
must arrive with repatriated Katargans, not sedated aborigines.
As Dr. Arton had surmised, the
female Hunter Rogue has adapted better than the others. However, she paces the confines of the room
constantly. She's discovered the cameras
and broken two of them. Dr. Arton cited
incidents of similar previous behavior.
We must begin with attempts at
verbal communication.
Dr. Towers and I have decided to use
basic behavior modification using food.
End of report.
Pansler
held up a shiny green disk. He licked it
and laughed. He put it in his mouth,
took it out and laughed, put it in again and chewed slowly.
Towers
picked up a yellow disk. She repeated
Uri's procedure, but as she laughed, she said the word "food" softly,
as part of the laugh.
Startled,
the colonists paid closer attention.
Pansler's
laughed "food" was more pronounced.
Bigfeet
growled.
Uri and
Vivian looked at each other.
Hunter
stopped pacing.
Vivian
picked around the pile of colored dehydrated disks of food. She picked an orange one up, laughed the word
"food" and placed it between Pansler's lips. He laughed "food."
A
deep-throated growl preceded Bigfeet.
The huge female leaped onto the pile of food disks, glaring at the
pair. She flung chips over each
shoulder, growling. The pair could not
seem to move.
Then
Hunter sprang between the doctors and the fierce leader of the troop. She had her back to the doctors, protecting
them.
The
troop were all on their feet, slapping their chests and thighs, arhythmically.
Hunter
slowly squatted on the pile of colors.
Her eyes never left Bigfeet's face.
Sweat sparkled on her top lip.
She took a deep breath and released her bladder.
Hot
yellow urine splashed onto the pile of food.
The colonists and doctors gasped in surprise.
Bigfeet
looked around Hunter at the doctors and curled her lip. She turned back to her mate and sat down,
facing ninety degrees away from them.
The slapping became clapping as the room rang with laughter.
Hunter
turned and leaned towards the astonished scientists. "Food," she said in a whispered
laugh.
Excerpt from
Laughing
Humans
© Evelyn Rainey
Available for publication.
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