The Last Malchix Night (The End of Flight Three)

(Book Zero of the 'Desperate Star Flights' series)

© 2012 by Rocketroo

Chapter One: Preparing to Celebrate

He had dropped the knife again. 'Dammit' he thought, putting his paws on either side of the cutting board as he leaned for a moment on the kitchen counter. Eyes closed and breathing slowly he recomposed himself. Time had been kind to him, older than most of any of his kind ever get and healthier than anyone in this age had any right to be. 'Enough now, you have guests.' he thought and raised his head and opened his eyes. The window in front of him had been boarded up on the outside, but not the inside. His reflection stared back at him palely in the glass. Dark amber eyes stared back, surrounded by once golden fur gone almost all white. The great whiskered snout and large nose, magnified by the perspective in the window still managed to look shrunken and heavy at the same time. The remnants of a once magnificent mane, now just a pale cloud surrounding his head mocked him. 'I am a very old lion.' He thought, 'Who has seen far too many things and fought far too few battles.'

Rory in fact had rarely hunted in his life. As a member of the civilized Those Who Talk he had grown up in a world of play, schooling and work. Not only could he read and write but in his prime he was a respected ecological scientist. Meat was bought in the store. And never would it even cross his mind to eat any of Those Who Talk. Only the Mute ever graced the table. He had even at one time tried being a Vegetarian, but his feline constitution had taught him the error of that. No feline can live for very long without meat. This rarely had ever been any issue in social situations. Most of Those Who Talk recognized the nutritional differences between them. And when confronted by a host with less than perfect sense, well he had gone a few days without eating when needed. And certain plants did have benefits to digestion, when eaten in moderation of course.

Shaking his head to clear his wandering mind, Rory wondered half a moment why he had become so reflective and maudlin. Then the wooden boards on the other side of the glass reminded him, this was no longer a pleasant world. Sighing, he bent over, a little stiff and slowly, picked up the knife he had dropped. He could have sworn when he straightened up that the popping of his joints would have wakened a drunken ape. Smiling at an uncharitable thought, he rinsed off the knife in a bucket of somewhat clean water and went back to preparing supper for his guests. 'Better hurry,' he thought, 'it's almost time.' Irony left a bitter taste in his mouth.

The Springbok was busy with hanging the streamers. Being the oldest and tallest of the children the task had fallen to her. She was having trouble attaching it with the pins to the wall. The two slender fingers of each hand, ending with a thick black nail did make the task more difficult for her than another. But doing difficult things without complaint had been beaten into her at 'The Camp'. Quickly her mind fled from the memory and concentrated on getting the faded delicate paper strung around the room. Eight months had gone by since the old lion had found and rescued her in the dying fields she had fled to after her escape. The nightmares however still kept the wounds in her mind fresh.

The age between pup and adult is hard enough on a male wolf. 'But flower arrangements?' he thought. 'Well it is your own fault.' he thought. 'Next time make sure the tree is not rotten before you try to climb it.' His left foreleg itched in the cast. This was bringing back the memories. 'Of course if that silly lion hadn't been chasing me.' The thought held no malice, only a rueful regret. Rory had seen him in the wastes and called out to him. Figuring that no big lion could climb a tree as well as a thin young wolf who had lots of practice, he had headed up the nearest tree. Only to have the first branch he reached break off underneath him and send him crashing to the ground. After he woke up and found his foreleg bandaged did he realize two very important things. One, that the lion was only trying to talk to him, not eat him. Two, this was a very old lion he could have outrun anyways. 'So now I'm a flower arranger. That'll teach me to act first and think later.' Still after 3 months, the cast was due to come off. He had that to look forward to at least.

Tall as the wolf and at almost twice his weight, the brown bear cub was a child a few years younger than him. She moved with surprising grace for her stocky frame and adeptly laid out the place settings on the table. 'Mr. Lion' as she thought of him, had directed her to use the good settings from the bottom shelves of the storage cabinet. She had never seen plates and cups made from anything other than wood or metal before, at least not up close and within reach. Her parents had run early when things started going bad and had lived deep in the woods striving for a simple life as they called it. They didn't have this ceramics as Mr. Lion did. What they had had to be replaceable or durable her father had taught her. In the end however, her parents turned out to be neither. She really didn't know what happened. First her father went out to hunt for food; a heavy hand woven sack slung over one shoulder. When he didn't show up back home, three days later her mother went looking for him. It was a week before she found the courage to go looking herself. 'My oh my what pretty painted flowers!' she thought as she pushed the memory back. It was six months to the day since she left the forest den to find her parents. Her muzzle carried the mark of her misadventures after leaving home. A jagged scar she kept covered with a hand made veil she had fashioned from something Mr. Lion had called a doily.

The crashes and thumping coming from the other room came from a young bull calf. He was rummaging through the remaining chopped wood stored in the next room. Resorting the logs by size where they had gotten jumbled up over the past week. Although the stacks were all too small to last for long, he still looked for the largest log to set aside for tonight's fire. He was moving carefully so not to reopen the wounds on his back. Strong as he was, he was a slow healer. These wounds were now almost 4 weeks old since the lion had sewn them back up and bandaged them. But they had a tendency to bleed if he overdid it. Only as old as the bear cub now setting the table, he had been singled out for a cruel game by some ape boys at the army camp who decided to play 'tag' with him. A game they played with real knives. He had held his own in the fight but ran as soon as he could knowing the military police would never believe his side of the story. When it came to what the apes did, they never took the other side. There was the log he was looking for! That and a couple of smaller cedar logs would make the whole house smell right for tonight.

The last member of the household wasn't working. Although technically she was doing the very chore she had been told to do. "Rest" he had told her. And so she did, between coughing fits that is. Two days she had been in this very chair, save when one of the other girls helped her to go potty. She hadn't the strength to do so by herself. She didn't remember much before this. She remembered two loving faces, the black tufts spiking from their ears. She remembered hunger, lots of hunger. She remembered running and running and running and crying. She remembered the dusts that clogged her nose and throat. That gray dust that blew between the dead grasses and prickly bushes that no longer held any leaves. The dust with the bad smell that still stuck in her head. She remembered lying on the ground, coughing and gasping when two huge paws picked her up and held her close. "She's alive." The voice had rumbled, "She's just a kitten!" She remembered the brushing that got so much of the dust out of her fur. She remembered him giving her broth, and holding her when she coughed and threw up. She remembered him wrapping her up in the old warm blanket and setting her in this enormous chair beside the fire. She remembered the next morning, with more broth came names. She repeated these names to herself. It seemed to help hold back the nausea. Over and over she told herself their names: Henna the Springbok, Ils the Wolf, Bronz the Bull, Tira the Bear. Then she would add her name in, because she so wanted to be a member of this pride: Lynette the Lynx. Then almost in reverence she would repeat his name to herself: Rory the Lion. Although half the time she would replace Rory with Kind; Kind the Lion she called him. It made her feel warm, in spite of the shivering.

Chapter Two: Silent Arrival

Two black sunken eyes stared out from between cloth wrappings. Their target was an old farmhouse in the middle of nowhere. There was no light from it, but smoke came from the chimney. He would have sneered but the wrappings to keep the dust out were too tight. Just like the boarding on the farmhouse windows. He needed to see inside and verify the targets. Silently he moved closer.

Chapter Three: Dinner is Served

"Almost ready!" The long table had been built for feeding not only the farm family but the farm workers as well. It took up much of the oversized common room along with a collection of cabinets, sideboards, various chairs, stools and a bench that ran down most of the length on one side. Tight packed the table could have easily fed twenty at a time. The impromptu mixed pride now clustered at one end, nearest the fireplace set in the wall on one side that was also near the kitchen. The two-sided fireplace was the kitchen oven on the other side. Cleared of yesterday's coals and ashes, this side now held the large log Bronz had found with smaller logs and kindling. By tradition this would be lit at the end of the dinner, before the start of story time.

Four long triangular silver cones, with one side rounded and tapering to the small end and the two flat side cut inward at an angle from the open large end were filled with flowers (in this case mostly paper with a few actual dried flowers mixed in) and were arranged around the room, scattered along the various side boards and at the other end of the long table. The flowers seemed to spill out the cones out onto the table and sideboards. Down to each a single streamer trailed and ended near the opening. Normally these would also have had small wooden figures of various animals set up as if they were walking out of the open cone end. However the traditional figure set was missing, and there was no time to make more.

The sideboard nearest this end was left mostly bare of decorations, for the food would be placed there. The middle of the table section where they would be sitting was open, with a surrounding circle of streamers and more dried and paper flowers. The traditional centerpiece would be placed there before the start of the meal. This was something that none of the children looked forward to. Ils and Henna had seen the centerpiece occupying the entire top shelf on one of the cabinets. It was a particularly gaudy one that had turned both their stomachs. But it was tradition, so they made sure they left the right amount of room for it.

"Get Ready!" Bronz and Tira slid the chair containing Lynette over to the table so she would be sitting at Rory's right hand. They then took the two seats down from her. Ils and Henna sat on the bench on the left side. None of them moved to help Rory bring out the food. It was traditional that the master of the house serves this meal himself or herself. Only if they were incapable would another be allowed to help. They waited with as much patience as they could muster. They had not eaten all day. Not that it was tradition, but because food was scarce. Only Lynette had eaten anything and that was just the few mouthfuls of broth that she could keep down.

Rory appeared in the kitchen doorway with a large tray in hand. Two covered dishes rested on it. Moving with great deliberation as to not accidentally spill anything, he moved to the sideboard, and placed the dishes on it. He then returned to the kitchen for the second load. The children were surprised when he actually went back for a third time. They were going to feast tonight! After he set off the dishes from the third trip, he set down the tray beside the sideboard. Then much to the surprise of the children, he immediately set about taking the covers off the dishes. The children looked at each other, had he forgotten the centerpiece? Still they said nothing as the smells, already strong from the kitchen, now assaulted their noses with redoubled strength. For each was a special dish. And instead of everyone having to share something that some could eat but not like, each got something for themselves. True it was mostly all from cans or dried, but Rory put as much effort as he could to make it like it was fresh. Tira got a baked apple and salmon. Bronz got boiled sweetgrass with oats and a touch of honey. Henna also got sweetgrass, but with a bit of chopped apple in hers. Ils got a piece of baked ham. Lynette had her broth, but added with it were bits of finely chopped chipmunk. For himself Rory had but a small piece of beef.

After serving each one of the children Rory sat down at the head of the table. After arranging himself he picked up his fork and was about to start eating when he noticed the silence. Looking up he found five pairs of eyes looking straight at him. "What?" He rumbled, "Do you think I'm going to let that thing destroy my digestion?" Five grins greeted him back. "Fine then, let's eat." He said as they all dug in.

He watched the children as they ate. They were smiling and ... laughing? The banishment of that monstrosity from the dinner table lightened the mood all around. Wait, was Ils actually telling a joke? Did Tira actually remove her veil instead of trying to eat under it? Rory felt his own mood lighten and relief spread through him. They were ready to hear the story tonight. A story different than any they had heard before. One concern still gripped him as he watched Lynette. She had given up on her spoon and was lapping her broth like a baby kitten. Not a word he would say, he was just glad she was eating at all. Had he been too late though?

Chapter Four: Tracks

The tracks had been unmistakable. And from what he could see in the dimming lights of the moons there was more than just that kitten and the lion that had found her hiding in this lonely farmhouse. He had followed the tracks of the kitten that had bolted from the hidden den he had found. Now the tracks had led him here. These should be the last he thought. Then it will be done.

Chapter Five: Mealtime Reflections

Henna found herself laughing in spite of herself at Ils' bad joke. Really did he have to tell the one about the Nurse-cow and the blind rabbit? The lame punch-line, 'I thought I herd you.' kept rolling through her head. Why it seemed so funny now she did not know. It certainly wasn't the way he told it. His timing was terrible. He paused at all the wrong places. She looked at him surreptitiously as she picked up another mouthful and chewed. She hadn't thought too much of him before. When he came here, arm broken and angry at himself and the whole world it seemed, he was just another kid that Rory had saved. Oh he was nice enough as he needed to. But when he wasn't complaining about his arm or doing a terrible job of cleaning up the house there was the jibes about how thin she was. (He noticed!) He was annoying and crude and selfish, and the light just gleamed off of his fur... The thought blew through her head like the wind before a storm: 'I wouldn't have minded if it had been him instead of those monsters who...' Quickly her mind shut down on that horrible memory. It had gotten really good at that. What they had done to her family and herd in the camp, and what they had done to her, these things she must not think about, not tonight, not where she couldn't cry, not in front of the others. Henna forced the cloud away from her face so the others would not see. Quickly she rebuilt her inner walls, resumed chewing and tried to pick back up on where the conversation was going. Not even realizing that in the back of her mind was one small ray of light, an image of a certain springbok and wolf walking side-by-side and laughing.

'Did I really just tell that awful joke?' Ils thought to himself. He was a bit surprised at himself. Somehow the words just came out. And with all the others laughing he felt almost ok with himself. Being the angry young wolf was starting to wear on him. Oh, there was plenty to be angry about. Bad enough that the wars had cost him both his parents two years ago, but when his older brother left him on his own to try to earn some money in the army, that broke what had remained of his sense of family. And a wolf without his pack was a wolf alone. Didn't matter that he had been left with some thrice-removed uncle he had never heard of before. The anger of being left filled his nights. So every night he went roaming, causing mischief when he could. Chiefly towards the apes that led the wars that cost him everything he loved. That's why he wasn't home when some spur of battle ran over the village. When he returned, there was nothing left. With twice nothing left he went on a permanent roam only to end up here with this cast of misfits, an old lion and a bunch of kids and her. Ils looked at her and saw a cloud cross over her face. Suddenly he wanted to make the cloud go away forever. Quickly he scrambled to come up with some funny story of some relative he never had, anything to make that cloud go away. He needed to get her laughing again. She was so beautiful when she laughed, those sharp horns cutting circles above her head.

Tira studied the interplays of beauty as they danced around the table. 'Beauty is in everything and everyone,' her parents had taught her. In the deep quiet of the woods she learned from them to see the shape and harmony of each and every plant and creature. She even learned the harsh beauty of how life sustained other life through death. The lesson of the spider and the fly was a beauty lesson she had seen played out of proportion when she wandered alone and lost. But now she saw many other half forgotten beauties flying around this celebration. The banishment of the spider like centerpiece had allowed the flies, beetles and butterflies of many other emotions come surging forth. To her the hardened beetle exterior of Ils' anger was but a pale mask for the iridescent wings of his compassion. Henna's hidden wound was a pupae for her, the butterfly within just starting to break out under the glowing sun of some new emotion. She saw what was growing between them and smiled. The smile pulled on her scar, reminding her of the ugly mark that an ugly beast of a creature had left on her. She has not found the way to see the beauty in it, no matter how hard she tried.

Quietly Bronz laughed at the joke. 'Ow, my back itches!' he thought to himself. And as much as he wanted to scratch, he held off. Partly because he knew it would not be good for his wounds. But mostly because he did not want to draw attention away from the good time everyone seemed to be having. 'We are solid in silence.' His father had told him when he had fallen once and was bleating like a newborn. 'We bellow only in warning. So the enemy may run in fear and we may not need to bloody ourselves. We bear the burdens of others and stand tall under the weights that crush another. Our shoulders brush the sky. Be Strong Always. Be Silent Save in Battle. Hold to Our Ways and Make Me Proud.' Bronz would swear that he actually heard the capitalization of the words as his father spoke them. His father was standing beside him, looking not down at him but up and outward towards the distant mountains. He remembered looking up at his father who stood so tall he did actually seem to touch the sky. And from the brown cloths that wrapped each horn the ending tassels blew in the wind, the symbol of the Brown Guard in which his father was a captain and veteran of many battles. One did not question father. One simply followed. So he learned to be strong. He learned to be silent. And when the day came that his father would never return home from, he learned to bear a heavy burden.

Rory picked slowly at his meat. He had not prepared much for himself, partly because of the supplies being so small, and partly because, well to be honest with himself, the elderly did not need as much. He ate slowly so he would not finish before the others. It gave him more time to watch them. And as sad as it was, he saw it was also very true that there was but one child at this table tonight. Only the littlest one still retained any of the innocence of youth even in spite of whatever tragedy put so young a child alone in the wastelands. For a moment the feeling of a vast ocean of years washed over him. With a will he shrugged it off. These young adults, grown before their times held their hurts and scars better than most any adult he had ever met in his long life. He could not let a moment of world-weary age taint this wonder before him. Besides, he still had one child to care for.

Chapter Six: Patience

Silently the figure moved around the outside of the house. At each boarded window the cloth swathed head would press gently against the wood and listen. Slowly and patiently, the figure worked out exactly where the occupants were in the house. He had a good guess, but he wasn't an assassin that made mistakes by assuming anything. At least that's what he told himself. And he assumed he was right.

Chapter Seven: Welcome Changes

Bronz and Tira cleared the table and took all the dishes into the kitchen where they would be washed later. Returning to their seats they waited for Rory to set out the centerpiece. After all dinner was over. A few moments passed and the lion stayed firmly planted in his seat. Henna was actually becoming afraid. Not having it out for dinner was one thing, but to skip it for the entire night? Rory watched their reactions. "Ils, please bring the matches." At the lion's request the wolf got up and went to the kitchen to fetch the matches. He quickly returned and held out the box to Rory. Ignoring the box, Rory looked at Henna and with a soft purr in his voice asked her, "Henna, would you do this house an honor and start the fire?" The request struck her like lightning. Through the shock the thoughts tumbled through her head: 'Only the master or the first-born may start the fire. He asked me to start the fire. Only the master or the first-born... He asked me...' Finally the realization sank fully in. 'He is adopting me. I am his daughter.' Suddenly that stupid centerpiece mattered nothing to her. She swayed a little, but she stood up and stepped back over the bench. Slowly she walked the few steps to the head of the table. Somehow it seemed a mile long. Smiling Ils handed her the matches. She went to the fireplace and knelt. It took her three matches before she managed to get one to light without breaking it. Finally lit, the fire caught quickly as Bronz had done a great job of building the kindling properly. Henna stood up and walked back to her seat as if she was walking on a cloud.

The other children grinned. All except Lynette knew what this had meant. They realized too that somehow that request had included them as well. They were his kids now. They had a family. Although Lynette didn't quite grasp it all, she knew that the lion had been very kind again. She knew in her heart this was home. But she knew that when she got here.

"This is the story of Red Reindeer." Rory started the story. He had chosen this one because it was one of his favorites. Also because it left out certain religious themes that had been the cause of so much trouble, including the present war. But most especially he chose this one because this story was one of family and acceptance of differences. Far too much intolerance had been going on for so long, until it had filled all the news and colored every conversation. This old story, written before Rory had even been born, was a gentle counterpoint to the hysteria of the recent times. The children listened with rapt attention. Most of them had not heard this one before.

A warm fire burned through Lynette. She had heard this story before. This story her father read to her last year. Yes this was her father's story. And as the story went on she remembered her parents. She remembered the smiles, she remembered playing in the darkened dug out room in a hillside. They were always smiling at her. She loved them so much. She sank into the memory of big paws, tufted ears, rough tongue baths from mother and love. Lots of love, so much it blocked out the darkness of what she did not want to remember.

Chapter Eight: Quiet Work

The figure listened to mumbled voices. Yes the sound was greatest here. Now to get a look inside! He took out a knife, and very slowly began working away the wood at the edge of two boards covering the window. Slowly, patiently he worked as to make no sound. Sharp ears were inside. He would give them no warning.

Chapter Nine: Gifts from the Heart

Although the story wasn't long, it did dry out his throat to talk so much. Which of course gave him the perfect excuse to get out of his chair. "Oh, no, I can get my own water thank you!" Rory rushed into the kitchen to get the pitcher. He came back with it, and a bunch of small bundles as well on the tray. Gifts had been a tradition that he had enjoyed as a kid, before it was actually outlawed to give gifts on Malchix Night. Well he had spent too much of his youth being an upstanding member. Now in his old age, he was really enjoying being an outlaw. Of course the gifts were scrounged from foraging trips. Yet somehow he had found a little something for each of them that was just perfect.

The kids sat dumbfounded. The old lion had surprised them again. Even Henna, who had been with him the longest had no idea he had planned this.

One at a time Rory handed each and every one of them a cloth wrapped bundle. There was also a small box that he set down at his place. And a larger box, about twice the size of his paw, that he set down in the middle of the table where the centerpiece should be. Then he filled the wide-mouth goblet that served as his glass with water and sat back down. "Go ahead, open up your presents." Rory told them.

The children looked at each other. "One at a time?" suggested Bronz. "You first." Ils nodded towards Henna. Henna unwrapped the cloth. Hers was very small she could tell as she unwound the wrapping. Finally two shining rings fell out onto the table. The silver rings gleamed in the candle light on the table. They were... Antler Rings. Among the antlered, these are a symbol of adulthood. If you wear them, you announce to the world that your family considers you an adult. Trembling, she held them up. From the end of the table came the words she needed to hear first, "You may put them on if you like." If You Like... the words that gave her the choice and the responsibility of that choice. Almost without realizing it she put them on, the rings causing a ringing hum in her skull as they slid down her antlers. Twice tonight her world had changed. And she found that change could be good.

Ils went next. His was small too. Unlike Henna though, he had made a guess as to the contents. He hoped he was right. He hoped for the gift that for the hunters of the night meant the same as the rings did for the antlered. Unrolling the cloth on the table as so not to drop it, he found what he was hoping for: an ancient tooth on an old leather thong. An adaptation to civilization had brought forth a tradition. As it became no longer practical or desirable to send the young out hunting to prove themselves, the elder of the pack would give a hunting trophy they had handed down to them to the next generation. Now he was an adult of the pack. There were no words needed here. He quietly placed the gift around his neck. Tomorrow it would go back into storage to be given to the next generation if he ever had cubs of his own. Although telling them about their grandfather now was going to be an interesting problem.

Bronz began opening his the instant Ils had placed his necklace on. Although he had suggested going one at a time, he found he almost was unable to wait. His was big and blocky, squarish and a little heavy. It thumped as it rolled on the tabletop as he pulled the cloth away. The Mahogany block was open with a circular hole at one end, inside was a cone shaped excavation in which there was a blade attached with a slit beside it going to the outside. It was like a giant pencil sharpener. A sharpener. A Horn Sharpener. One such as the Brown Guard used for active militia service. He had felt bad about what he had done to defend himself. Now he was being told that he could defend himself, that it was OK not to let other people kill him for their sport. He was being told: it was alright for him to live. He had really needed to hear that.

It took a minute before Tira started to open hers. Hers was largish too. But it was easy to tell what it was going to be. It was a book. But which book? She had seen the few around the house, and other than a few on cooking and crafts, she had no idea which one he might give her. And it took another moment before she realized she had managed to unwrap it cover down. She flipped it over. The Bear Princess was the title of the book. She did not know this book. She had never even heard the name before. Puzzled, she looked up to the lion. "Open it up." He said. She opened up the cover. The dusky smell of ancient paper hit her nostrils. This book was old, very old. There on the first yellowed page was a picture. A faded picture of a bear wearing a crown, all around her other bears knelt in respect. Beside her was a tree and her right paw was stretched up as high as it could go. Her claws dug into the bark, marking it higher than other marks on the tree. There was one other thing that she saw in the picture. The bear's face bore a long scar from the temple down to her neck. It made the scar she had look tiny in comparison. Tira closed the book. It felt like her brain was screaming inside of her skull. Her eyes moved from the book and saw the veil she had made and had worn everyday for months. Slowly she stood up. Leaning over she grasped the book in one hand, and the veil in the other. She didn't even feel the other eyes upon her. Step by step she walked over to the fire. Then she walked back and sat down. The book remained, clutched to her breast. The veil and screaming in her head was gone.

Lynette still held her gift. She had not opened it. She wasn't sure why. Maybe because she was afraid she might drop it since her grip was so weak. Maybe it was because she was really too busy hiding how sick she felt. Somehow big understanding paws appeared and helped her. Good thing too. Although it was light for it's size, her present had been biggest of all. She almost squealed when it was unwrapped. It was a stuffed lion toy, over half her size. A kind lion for her, just for her. She wrapped herself around it. "I think she likes it." She heard one of the other kids say. Sounded like Ils. She closed her eyes and hugged the toy. And quickly reopened them when a wave of nausea swept her. No she did not want to get sick on her new toy. She made herself sit up.

Rory was worried; Lynette seemed too weak and was not reacting well. The poisons in the dust were still slowing her reflexes. And no matter how she tried to hide it, he could see how sick she felt. The fact that she liked her present was small comfort at best. It was the only toy he had that he could give her. Ironically, he had found it on the same foraging trip that he had found her on. The gifts he had gotten to heal a few of the inner wounds the world had dealt to these kids. What inner wounds she had would have to wait until he found a way to heal her poisoned body. And he had not the medical training or the medicines. If even such medicine really existed, which he doubted. He knew mostly what was in the dust, after all he had been an ecological scientist when the first wave of 'pest eradication' sprayings started years ago. Those at least had been at targeted locations and targeted insect infestations. His own concerns about possible side effects had cost him his career and set him on the path that ended here at this old abandoned farmhouse, trying to keep a bunch of orphaned kids from other species alive. No not orphans. These were his kids now. And he had to keep them alive in a world that had been ravaged by poison sprays and wars.

Chapter Ten: Making Progress

At last! A little sliver of light began to show through between the boards. Not nearly enough to get a good look inside, but that wouldn't be long now. But before continuing, he needed to change his breathing cloths. They were becoming too clogged. Yes go ahead and use the black ones. The formal colors would be appropriate, especially if he had to move fast. No time to change if your kill starts to escape!

Chapter Eleven: The Old Story

Time for one more treat before he shocked them again. Carefully he opened the box at this seat. One last final box of Okia Beads, his favorite candy. As he opened in he reflected on the fact that as a carnivore, he should not like sweets. But he did, indeed many carnivores did. And he knew and met more than a couple of herbivores who developed a taste for meat, although it was not good for their digestion. It was one of those oddities that went largely unquestioned in public. But he knew why. And tonight the kids would have that part of the puzzle too.

Five, only five in the box. Ruefully several disparaging remarks about the greed of companies ran through his head. Then he resigned to it. "At least half a dozen in every box!" printed on front and back did not change the fact there was only five inside. And not as if he could actually track someone down to make good on the guarantee on the box. Well he had eaten his share in his lifetime. "Here, past this down." Each candy went out, the last to Lynette. "Try this, suck on it slowly. It's good." He hoped the natural sugars might revive her a bit. Even make her feel good enough to actually eat. Try as she might, she couldn't hide from him that she had eaten almost nothing. Gently he whispered to her, "Any time you want to sleep, you go right ahead. And if you want I can even take you to your own bed." Looking up, she muttered around the candy, "Shtay here."

Standing up, he reached over and grabbed the box he had set in the center and brought it back over to him. Resting a paw gently on top of it, he stood still, almost reverently. The children were curious. Bronz and Tira knew that something special was inside that box. Henna and Ils both guessed that it was a centerpiece, but not nearly as big as the one still sitting in the cabinet. Henna though was first to make the next connection on how different it must be when she wondered why Rory didn't go ahead and set the mystery centerpiece out at the beginning of dinner.

"The last few years have been really bad for everyone. And I know that most of you, no all of you, have not had a normal childhood. So I do not know how much you know about some of the old traditions. I know you know a fair amount at least of what is expected. For example you were surprised by what I did not do before dinner. Now I know all the official reasons for the traditions. However it would be good to know how much you do. So who is willing to tell me what you know about Malchix Night?" Rory sat down, with the box held between his paws.

There was a moment of silence. Then Henna, realizing that as she had been named as first born, she would have to speak first. "This is the celebration of when the first one of Those Who Talk were brought forth onto the world. Named after the First Speaker who came forth unto the world and who called out all the others."

"Where did they come from?"

"They came from the Gates of Plenty."

"What are the Gates of Plenty?"

"The four Holy Structures from which all life comes forth." Henna pointed to one of odd shaped metal cone decorations scattered about the room.

"And which animal was the First Speaker?"

Henna's mouth tightened. For all the abuse she had taken from them...

Ils answered instead, "Apes." Bitterness dripped in his voice.

"Alright Ils, who were the four who followed?"

"Bull, Bear, Tiger and Lion."

"And what did they do?"

"They... they... bowed to the Ape."

"And then what happened?"

Now Ils found it hard to answer. Not that he didn't know, but having been emotionally beaten with it any and every time his natural exuberance ever showed...

Bronz answered, "The one who called forth the First Speaker gave to him the List of Rules."

"And then?"

"Told him that it was the Ape's job to admin... admin... uh, to use the rules on all the others."

"And who said this?"

None of the children answered.

Chapter Twelve: Surprise View

The hole was big enough now to see into the house. And good timing too, the winds were dying down and now there was little to hide the sound of his knifework. Ah, there were the targets, all around at the end of the table. Now to check which of the false names they were giving honor to, so he could send them each to the proper eternal damnation. There they are sitting, there are the settings, oh that wolf is in the way! There, he moved! Center of the table there is...... NOTHING!?!?!?!

Chapter Thirteen: What's in a Name?

Rory nodded. "Over five hundred years of war over one single name, with every Ape tribe claiming to be the direct descendant of the First Speaker and hence the only one to know the so-called True Name. Yet somehow they always worked together when it came to telling everybody else what should be done. And because of the tradition of this night, every other animal who talks had to either follow them or be killed for being blasphemers."

"This is not how it always was. And this is how I found out."

Rory slowly moved the box around in his paws. Slowly turning it to look carefully at the four sides and not to tip it over. There was the spot again. He stopped moving it around and looked up at the eyes staring at him.

"When I was a cub, I was a True Believer. My family was with the Apes of the Red Sash. We knew the True Name as Ay-Yi. And as any good carnivore I was bound for either Science or Engineering. My grandfather was a Civil Engineer; my father was a Materials Scientist. Both were a little disappointed when I took to Environmental Science. I thought they would be proud that I was working to remove the Pest Problem. You kids would not remember when the skies would darken with locusts, or the eternal itch of fleas. None of you ever had to take a flea bath."

"All the more the pity." He sighed.

"My grandfather in particular seemed to bait me about it the most. At the time I thought it was just old fashioned prejudice, because I had an ape friend. Jezzic was his name and he thought he was truly a rebel. We were quite the odd pairing because I was very proper. Jezzic would be proud to know me now I think. He always was trying to get me to break the rules. It took me years to realize that while Jezzic was just a rule breaker, my gramps was far more the rebel. He was trying to get me to question what I thought I believed and knew. His method though often led to fights between us."

"One particular fight I remember was over the seed bowl by the toilet. Ever since anyone could remember, you kept a bowl of seeds or small berries by the toilet. Tradition and the law itself require you drop one in before you empty your bowels. 'Why?' he would scream at me. 'Tradition' I'd scream back."

"It did finally start to work though. I was working on a project to reduce the out of control locust populations. There was something that gramps said that caused me to wonder what other effects the chemicals might have. And when I did an unauthorized experiment on some ground worms that suddenly I found myself without a job and under scrutiny wherever I went."

"But that event started me to question a lot more than politically allowed avenues of research. Then something my grandfather asked me set me on a path to find out what was really going on behind the official news."

"You do know there was once a species called Horses that were among Those Who Talk?" Henna and Tira nodded, Ils and Bronz shook their heads and Lynette just cuddled her toy.

"I know you won't know this, many people did not. But about a hundred years ago there was a major split where some of the species decided they had had enough of Ape rule and wanted to break off and form their own colony and government elsewhere. These were lead by the Horse and they left in mass, all of the Horse and some out of many of the others. Shortly afterwards the Apes put together a huge army, called it a search party, and went after the ones who left."

"This is not even in the official history books at all. All the history books say is around this time the Horses died out. The news at the time, what I found that hadn't been destroyed, simply said that the search party found nothing of those who left."

Rory paused. The next part was going to be difficult to discuss with them. But they needed to know. And he was too old to delay in talking about this.

"I am sure that each of you have been told about the laws against cross-breeding." All the kids nodded.

"And you are familiar with the house servants that most Ape families have, the Mules?" Again the kids nodded. "Mules are the result of cross-breeding between the Horse and Donkey. But since they are not supposed to be, they are only allowed to be servants. And they are sterile. Mules cannot produce more Mules."

"The question my grandfather asked me shortly before he died, was so simple. Yet nobody had dared even think about it. It was close to fifty years after the Horses were supposed to be gone. He asked me, 'Where are all these young Mules coming from?' I had to find out. I never did find out, but what I found was even more important."

"Jezzic helped me get a fake ID, so I could go places and get work. At least that's what he thought. Rebel or not, I knew I would be flying in the faces of the Ape society and he might not be able to handle it. Then as far as my friends and family knew, I just disappeared one night."

"I faked acting stupid and got work at odd places doing manual labor, cleaning, whatever looked to be a menial job as long as it placed me somewhere that I might find answers. Even the most secure government or religious office requires janitors, plumbers and repairers. I even managed to work my way into the First Speaker Palace as a janitor. It's amazing what somebody will throw away without thinking about it."

"More important than what was found, was what was missing. If I hadn't been a janitor, I would have never found it. All the trash out of a city or town gets dumped in landfills near the city, except the trash from government and religious buildings. They all had separate pick-ups are taken to be burned. So every night when I cleaned out the offices I had to drop some of the trash on the floor then scan any papers in it quickly as I picked up. It took a bit before I realized that one of the nature preserves had a lot of extra security expenses. But at the same time I never saw any status reports mentioned for it in any way. The Third Preserve had things happening there that didn't add up."

"Listening to the scuttlebutt around the bars where the workers hung out gave me a clue to just how important that preserve was. Usually supply and mail carts to any important destination are driven by at least one Ape and would have another species along to do any actual work. The Third Preserve was Ape-Only workers. And on top of that, only the most loyal could get that job and I gathered it paid well. The reason whispered about was that critical ecological experiments went on there. Oddly enough, as an Environmental Scientist, I had never even heard of the place."

"Regular message delivery came from every outpost on a schedule. Then one day a group of apes from the Third Preserve came to make some sort of personal report to the First Speaker Representative. At this point I decided to follow their carts back to the preserve. After a few beatings by suspiciously well-armed and organized bandits at the very beginning of the trail, still within sight of the city, it occurred to me that stealth would be needed. I learned to look for signs of guards. Took to the far edge of sight where you could just barely see the trail. Spending days in hiding to see which turn the next scheduled message cart would take. On the way I had to take side trips, find farms where I could beg for or barter work for food. It seemed to take forever."

"Months later I finally arrived at this huge grass plain surrounded on all sides by cliffs and mountains. If you look at a map, it will say it is empty land yet to be mapped. The main road in was well guarded. Not far inside was a complex that looked like any other well-funded research post, except for guard towers and fences. I found a natural trail in to the plain and then found who might have made it. Wild lions lived here, which worked out well once they got used to me. I looked like hell and from a distance you couldn't have told my now thin frame from a wild one. I looked like an old shrunken member of the pride. As long as I kept to all fours and kept my distance, none of the apes working here would pay any attention to me."

"I lived there, scavenging for food and information. The pride would even let me eat from their kills, wild local animals. But the info was even scarcer than the food. For a research station they sent out almost no expeditions into the plain. Days would go by without any activity. Then it happened and I found the motherload into the past, and a terrible secret."

"The pride which had been hunting near the post which gave me access to their activities there suddenly moved far from the apes. I of course had to follow or I would have stood out too much. Despondent I kept near them and spent my days trying to figure out how I could get back to where I could watch the base for activity. One day, without realizing it, I was pacing back and forth along a line of rock. Suddenly it hit me that I was walking along a buried road. Digging around I found more stone and realized this had once long ago been a major road."

"I guessed it was at about 800 years old. No real way to tell without proper equipment. But it has been about that long since rocks were used as a main building material for anything other than a temple or town hall. I had found what appeared to be a long road heading straight into the plain. I had a starting point for a search for whatever secret was obviously being guarded here."

"My digging around was of course anything but normal for a lion. Other than to hollow out a shallow resting place, wild lions do not do a lot of digging. When I saw the entire pride around me digging, it hit me about how wrong it looked. I almost started to try to stop them when some trace of instinct in me made me look around first. An ape was there, about five hundred meters off, watching the pride through a spyglass. I realized I was in a spot I had dug out, so I flumped down in it. The rest of the pride did likewise. They had seen and knew I was attracting attention. And they had acted to cover up my stupid behavior."

"Don't you ever let anyone tell you the wild ones don't think."

Chapter Fourteen: Rage

Monstrous! Horrifying! He couldn't hear every word, but he could hear enough! The wind had died completely down. The stillness that allowed him to hear also kept him immobile, lest he make a noise that could be heard inside. His own breathing under the cloth had to be controlled in the face of his rising rage. Every tight chested heart beat brought crimson waves in front of his eyes. He would be death tonight. He would be more than death. He would be pure holy vengeance, destroying these sick, vile creatures and wiping them from the face of the world. There would be no trace left for any to ever know that these monsters ever existed. When the winds returned, they would die. And while he waited, he imagined his blade sinking into each and every one of them. Over and over and over again......

Chapter Fifteen: A Search

Rory stopped to take a drink of water. All eyes were upon him, save Lynette who had fallen asleep in her chair.

"With or without the cover of the pride, I had to follow this lead. So taking a bearing as best I could, I followed the general direction of the road. Much to my relief and amazement, the pride followed. For days we went. I'd lose all trace of the road under rolling grasses, then find it again. I'd stop when the pride needed to hunt and there was game visible. Suddenly one day the real pride leader moved to cut me off and made me turn away from the direction I had been going in. I had come to respect these lions, so I followed him. We crossed a cart path that obviously was still being used regularly. On a good ways away, he stopped the entire pride. I looked back and for a long time I saw nothing unusual. Then at the limits of my vision, I saw small dark specks moving through the grasses. If I had continued in that direction, we would have wandered right into the middle of them."

"It was late in the night when the leader allowed us to move again. This time he let me go to where the workers had been before. I didn't even have to get close before I could smell the chemicals. This was an actual research project? My heart sank, all this time and effort for secret insecticide tests? The pride started hanging back as I pressed forward. There was another smell here too. My stomach was growling when I came up on the meat bait. But I wasn't nearly stupid enough to take it. Neither apparently was the pride. But something was odd about it. I did not recognize the meat. It smelled kinda like beef but not at the same time. And it also carried a slight trace smell of a poison."

"If that had not been there, I probably would have left at that point."

"I went back to the pride. The leader moved the pride out in what I later realized was a large semicircle. We did not stop until late the next afternoon. Where we stopped, the wind was coming across where the road would have been, far off to one side. In the wind were the smells of fires and cooking meats and vegetables. Now I knew there was another post here in the plains."

"I rested that night and most of the next day. Heading out towards the post close to sunset. It was well dark before I saw the lights of fires and lanterns in the distance. I also passed many poison test patches and bait stations. As night wore on the lights went out. And the closer I got, the slower I moved. It was nearly dawn when I realized just how stupid I was being. I was too close to get away in the coming light. And I could just barely make out the walls and structures before me as both moons had set."

"I then did the most reckless thing I had ever done in my entire life. I got up and ran straight for the wall. When I reached it I turned and ran until I found a door. There was a catch on this side and I opened the door. When I found it lead basically to a street with small cottages on either side, I sprinted down the street. Some part of my mind had either snapped or was working overtime. But I knew I had to make it to the center before anyone woke up. Maybe there was something in the darkened silhouette that I had not realized I had seen from the outside. Maybe I had truly lost it living among the wilds. Anyway I ran like I had never run before. And in the half light of the approaching dawn, I realized I was running straight at a building I had only heard of in legend."

"Tira, would you do me a favor and bring me the Life Gates?"

Tira got up, a little hesitantly, but did as he asked and brought back the four long silver triangular cones with the rounded side. Rory dumped the remaining dried and paper flowers out of each on the sideboard that had earlier held their dinner. Then he put them together in what was called the packing or traveling form of matching the flattened sides to each other with the curved on the outside. This produced a large rounded cone that tapered to the tip.

"When I found this set after I first arrived at this abandoned house, I realized just how very old this particular set is. You see a lot of the more modern sets have changed how the internal cut is done. This set is like it should be." Holding the set together, he turned it around so the open bottom pointed to them. "Now what shape would fit in there along where the walls meet?"

Henna grasped it right away, but said nothing. Too many emotions and memories were warring in her. Both her traditional upbringing and the abuse she had suffered at the hands of Apes made for a wall in her throat.

Bronz and Tira were trying to understand what did he mean by fit inside along where the walls fit. They were almost there when Ils spoke up. "That's where the Center goes, isn't it?" By Center, he meant the traditional structure of the center piece, a pyramid with a flattened top and beveled corners. They all looked at him.

"Yes, the lost Center was there, in a secret town run entirely by apes. And I was running straight at it."

Chapter Sixteen: Impatient

He couldn't stand it. How much longer was he going to have to wait? The unusual stillness of the night kept him rooted at the window, watching these abominations mocking all that was holy. If the First Speaker meant him to hear all this for a purpose, then he had to do it. He would not make any mistakes though he itched to move. He would see to the purification of this house no matter what discomfort it afforded to wait.

Chapter Seventeen: Ancient Surprise

"So there I was, running with all my might to a dead end. As if I had lost my mind. Maybe I had. Certainly I knew that if I ran straight into it that not only would it do me no good, but when I hit it I might wake up some sleeping guard if there was one. I remember even trying to slow down and it was as if my body had a mind of its own. Then right as I reached it, a door suddenly opened where there had been only a wall. I shot in into the darkness. Now suddenly not only was I able to stop, but I pretty much sprained half my muscles doing so. I turned around in time to see the final crack of light as the door closed behind me. I was inside. And it was pitch black."

"I would love to say I was brave, but the truth be told at that moment I think I panicked. Now all I wanted was to get out and I know I ran into several things scrambling around. Then I must have hit my head, because the next thing I knew, I was waking up in a well lit room. Try as I might, I don't think I can really describe it to you. Metal walls and cabinets full of knobs and glass covered holes with what would appear to be different colored fireflies in them, very very bright fireflies at that. Certainly too small to be fires and far too bright for anything I can think of. What was not made of metal was made of stuff I had never seen before. Not wood, not leathers, not shell or stones or crystals or most anything any of you children would have ever seen. A few residues from chemical processes came close, but you would have never seen those."

"And I told you the room was well lit, but not by torches or any fireplace. Seemed at first to be white glass covered windows, but later I realized these did not go outside at all. I learned that once there was a great many things that we know nothing about now, but that we should have already rediscovered."

"I almost panicked again when the voice started talking to me. At first I was sure I had been caught in a trap. That some ape was toying with me and that soon there would be a bunch of them coming to tie me up or worse. Then I worried that I was losing my mind when no ape showed up and the voice kept talking to me. It was telling me not to panic. That it had let me in and it was sorry for making me sleep. I could try to go over everything that was said and try to remember everything it told me. But tonight will not last much longer and I need to finish this soon. There are many things you need to know, so with your kind permission, I will tell you the most important parts. These are things I learned while living there for the next month while waiting for the next period of double dark moons I would need to escape the ape town."

Rory could see how tired they were getting. In spite of their interest in the story, the children could not help the yawns they were stifling. Lynette of course had been asleep for most of the story. Her breathing was rapid and labored. Of all the things he had learned, he had not learned how to counter poisons that he did not know yet existed when he was in the Center.

"Here is what I learned from the voice in the Center. Long ago on another world some kind of disaster was happening. Exactly what I did not really understand at the time. But it sounds similar to what is happening here now. The plants and animals were all dying. So one species who had learned a great many secrets and had much power, made a fleet of ships to sail to other worlds and make them anew."

"First was sent ships that seeded very simple plants and a few of the fish. Then came the ships with the greater plants and all the animals. After that was to come the ships with the peoples who had made the ships; Those To Come After. They were once a part of our stories, until they were removed from memory by those who would have taken their place. The ships themselves could think, such was the power of Those To Come After. Once here the ships could move to save themselves and choose the best times and places to do the seeding. The first ships did their jobs before falling into ruin. And they must have been able to avoid what happened to the second ship to arrive. It arrived during the period of rainbow nights. That time every dozen years or so when the shimmering colored lights in the sky at night can be seen in every town and village."

"When it arrived it was not ready for such a time. There was a lot of damage done. A few of Those To Come After were on the ship to make sure all was ready and started correctly. They died. Also something called the Birds were also killed. It is because of that loss we have the tradition of the seed bowl. Except that this came before we had toilets. And what we were doing was to seed and fertilize the ground ourselves. Something that these birds were supposed to help with. And they were to help with controlling insects as well. If they were here, and we less stupid, then the land would not now be covered in dusts."

"The ship knew that without the birds and the help of Those To Come After, that it would fail in getting the world ready without other help. So the ship made us. After putting out many of the seeds and the wild animals, it used what it knew about Those To Come After and made us using the animals it had in it's seed banks. The ship made us as much like them as it could. Made us smarter than the wild ones. Made our lives and childhoods longer so we could learn more. And it was the one who gave us the laws and traditions that would be needed to make the world ready for Those To Come After."

"It was able to do this partly because the ship itself had been made in a way like that. It had been created from an animal. And it spoke to all the ones it had made through the Center. And for the first few hundred years, all our ancestors knew of it, spoke to it, and even in some cases worshiped it."

Rory opened the box by pressing on the hidden button on the side. The top sprung open, then the sides fell halfway apart. This allowed him to remove the ancient Center that was kept inside. Gently he set it in the center of the table. The children looked at the silvery pyramid shape. Simple and elegant, it was not covered in gaudy colors or bedecked with crystals and rare metals. It was plain and had only one thing on it. Sitting on the flattened top was a mouse, holding out what appeared to be a traditional scroll. On the scroll was written but one word: Prepare. "Children," Rory softly said, "meet A.I."

Ils couldn't hold back the barking laughter that roared from his throat. Anger, surprise, even a form of righteous indignation mixed heavily with satisfaction of a lie being broken in front of his eyes. "A MOUSE!" He nearly choked before he caught his breath again. "You mean the one who called forth the First Speaker was a Mouse?" Ever since he had been a little pup every centerpiece he had seen had what looked like an ape as the one talking to the First Speaker ape. "So the first ape got his orders from a mouse!" He laughed again. And as he was about to speak again, Rory gently coughed. "Not Exactly."

Rory held them each with his eyes. They were both going to love this and hate it. "There was no First Speaker. That was an invention of the apes many years later." Absolute silence reigned both in the house and outside. Rory took a deep breath. "You all recall the list of the first four that was supposed to come after the ape. Bull, Bear, Tiger and Lion. Well the ape wasn't first and that list is almost complexly wrong. None of the first four were predators or omnivores. The first four were all herbivores. Only the plants were well established. All the wild animals were on the edge of existence. There was none to spare to feed any hunter with too great an advantage such as intelligence. The first four were Horse, Deer, Springbok and Squirrel. And for some reason the Squirrel were unable to keep the gift A.I. had given them. Oddly balanced with the Horse with whom only Those Who Talked survived. All the plant eaters who could talk came first. Then came many of the omnivores who could talk. Then when the plains and forests were full of game did A.I. send out the carnivores who could talk."

"The very last to come was ape. As it was explained to me it was due to something called diploids or diplids or something like that. They were too close to Those To Come After and shared something that actually made it harder to make them more like Those To Come After. For all the reasons that they could have been proud about, they never ever talked about the one thing they could have really been proud of. They were cousins to the ones who could move among the worlds. Instead once the religious wars got started, they changed history every chance they got until we ended up with this lie that is Malchix Night."

Henna finally spoke up. "Then what is the truth of Malchix Night?"

Rory sighed, "Malchix Night was an annual event where as many of Those Who Talk that could do so met at any of the Life Gates or the Center itself. A.I. then would tell them what plants, wild herds and even the Talkers that needed to increase or decrease their numbers and where in order to balance the delicate environment. Remember we are not natural here, none of us are, plant, wild or Talker. After getting instructions, everything that could be done to meet those instructions would be done. Of course it was also a time for far separated families and friends to catch up, so it became a celebration as well."

"But during the times of Rainbow Skys, the Gates and the Center would be silent. They had to shut down to prevent damage from the forces that made the lights, or something like that. A.I. called it Lectomagnetinduction as close as I can recall. It is very strong here. After a couple of hundred years, there was a very bad time where the Rainbow Skys lasted for three years, three Malchix nights with no instruction. This was also the time of the first Holy Crusade by the then increasing ape populations. They ended up in full control of the land around the Center by the fourth year. That year after, all the Life Gates were silent on Malchix Night. They never spoke again. They had not survived the Rainbow Skys."

"And you know that after the Rainbow Skys, the insect population always explodes. Death by disease, near starvation and chaos reigned with the silence from the Gates. This was the beginning of the ape control with them at first saying they still had connection to A.I. then later saying A.I. and the Center was lost, then making all their different religious sects and wars..."

"All this A.I. had seen, but was not a god and could not stop them. When I left, A.I. had given me the task of trying to find as many as I could who might stand up to the apes and take back the Center. But when I managed to escape the town..."

Rory stopped. His paw trembled as he reached for a drink of water. It was so quiet they could hear the faint whisper of a light breeze.

"It was too late. During the time I was in there, the Unified Religious Council had issued the Blasphemy Laws. Anyone who was not a follower of any of the main branches, the Red Sash, the Blue Cloth, the Golden Rule, the Yellow Eye and so forth, found themselves unable to secure employment, or found their land no longer assigned to their family. And in the case of anyone speaking out against or questioning the basic tenants of belief; execution awaited."

"And that was not all. They had also decided to control the Wild ones by their own interpretation of what was sufficient to keep any lines going. They had decided since there had been four Life Gates, then you only needed four of any species to keep it going. I ran across the results of that decision on my way out of the valley. The entire wild lion pride was lying dead near the mountain pass into the valley. They had been killed not by arrows or spears. And no, not any ape had been brave enough to get close enough to kill them with blade or hand weapon. They each had hole bored into them. At first I had thought them to be spear holes, but they didn't seem right somehow for that. You know what they were killed with."

"Guns" Bronz rumbled.

"Guns," Rory continued, "the apes' new weapon for controlling wild animal population and blasphemers."

"That was almost forty years ago now. I tried several times to start an opposition to the ape religious rule. Anytime I managed to find a few people who would stand up with me, a crackdown would occur and we would have to scatter and hide or die."

"Every year, the dusts would be spread, and the locusts and other pests would die. Also many other insects needed for the plant cycles. The food would get scarcer and every year the official announcement was about how the dusts had saved that year's crop from the insects."

"The truth about Malchix Night is that we failed to listen to reason, and left the fate of the world in the hands of liars."

Chapter Eighteen: Whisper of the Wind

His muscles were stiff from standing motionless and from suppressed rage. But the time for action was coming. The pre-dawn winds were picking up. Now he could move without being heard. Now he could stretch and ready his blades. Now he could prepare his guns. Two guns, two shots. One for the double dammed lying blasphemer, the other for any who might escape his blade. Quietly he moved to loosen his muscles. He no longer heard what was said inside, and indeed it did not matter. He had heard enough.

Chapter Nineteen: Remember

"So what now?" The whisper came from Henna. "What do we do now?"

"We survive, if we can. The Final War For Peace that has raged these past five years has all but destroyed the apes and most of their followers. Any who may have survived their purges and the dusts are hiding like us may be able in a year or two find each other. We try to start again. Find land that hasn't been too badly poisoned. Find ground worms and bees and any other creature we can. We try again. And we remember what was done in the past and why it was wrong. We remember the truths that were almost lost. And we even remember the lies that were told and make sure every generation after knows them as the lies they are."

"As for us, here and now...

Rory was interrupted by Lynette's racking cough. The Lynx kitten had been woken by a spasm of coughing. She jerked with every painful contraction. Crimson spots appeared on the chair in front of her face. Rory gently scooped her up. With every cough a pulse of heat emanated from her, and stabbed the lion straight in the heart. He knew what was coming next. The other children had seen enough of death in their lives already. "Let's get you to bed little one." Rory gently said. The children watched quietly as Rory carried Lynette out to the bedrooms. Not a word was said after the two disappeared around the corner. They looked at each other, and gently closed their eyes. So they would not see each other cry.

She felt so bad. Hot and cold and pain and nausea all rolled through her. The cough was horror itself. Every one seemed to take more than she had left to give, leaving her weaker and weaker. Wait, she was being held, a gentle and familiar voice was talking to her. What was it saying? Didn't matter. The warmth from the arms carrying her, she knew it. She opened bleary eyes and tried to focus. A vague shape above her, but somehow she saw those tufted ears she had always loved. A memory of reaching up with paw to catch those ears. That memory reached back, caught her up in it. Now there was no pain. Now there was no nausea. Now there was only the warm arms and the shining face above her. She embraced it.

Rory kept one eye on his charge and one eye on the path through the house. His room was straight ahead. As he approached the door he felt the tiny arms try to hug him. He looked down in time to see two bright eyes look up and a small voice whisper: "Thank you Daddy." There was a moment of purring. Then stillness.

The lock on the outer kitchen door was a simple one and only took a moment to trick. The sound it made was covered by a sudden gust that creaked the whole house. Yes the True God was on his side.

It was a wooden lion that tucked the still form into bed. Arms moved of their own volition, arranging her head on his pillow. Pulling the blankets up and over a body that would never know cold or warmth again. It was if he was watching this from far, far away. Far enough not to start screaming at the pain in his heart.

Maybe it was the whisp of air, or the smell of dust that caused him to open his eyes. Ils saw the black shrouded figure sneaking in from the kitchen. He did not need to see the blade to know the enemy was here. With a growl he leapt at it, scattering Rory's chair on the way and warning the others at the same time.

A yelp of pain penetrated the walls and brought him back to the dark room. Screams and sounds of a struggle moved his muscles. Slow, Too Slow Dammit! MOVE! Rory ran as if in a dream. Skidding around the corner he saw in a flash the table knocked askew, chairs scattered, Ils on the floor with blood spreading from the young wolf's neck. Bronz was standing back to him, half way slumped, a dark figure on the other side of him grinning with yellowed teeth between black cloth strips wrapped around its face covering its nose, chin and forehead. The girls were backing up towards him. As Bronz hit the floor, Rory saw the blood stained blade. And the killer saw him. Dropping the blade, the killer's hands moved to two bulges sticking out of a black sash wrapped around its waist.

Over a million years of evolution from a foreign planet who's star could not even be seen in the night sky rolled like a boulder through the room straight at the ape. A primeval roar split the air and ears. The ape suddenly found his courage emptying from him along with the contents of his bowels. Killer beyond compare, he had fought both in the open and in the shadows. He had killed warriors and babies, apes and non-apes, believers and blasphemers. Now he faced an opponent who was no longer civilized. Now he faced a true wild lion fighting to defend its stricken pride. Living beyond this battle was not even in the picture. Desperately with the coppery taste of terror choking his mouth, the ape pulled both pistols and without aiming -fired.

He didn't even feel the bullet hit and bury itself in his gut. Only the red haze and the black figure existed. With one swipe he brushed away the arms and guns. His teeth found their mark on its head. The taste of hot blood and the satisfying crunch of bone filled his mouth. But he was still in motion and that motion carried them straight into the fireplace. His forehead hit the top of the fireplace opening, causing him to lose his grip while at the same time preventing him from going into the fire. He stumbled back, temporarily blinded but still intent on his prey. Backing over something, he lost his balance and fell backwards on the floor. High pitched whining filled his ears. Various sensations fought for his attention as he fought to regain his sight and focus.

Henna and Tira watched as first Ils and then Bronz leapt to defend them. Surprised and afraid, they started to back away as the intruder killed first Ils then Bronz. Tira moved to place her larger frame between the delicate adopted first-born and danger. The roar that filled the room to overflowing pushed fear and all other emotion away. The golden fireball that flashed past them was accompanied by two loud near simultaneous thunderclaps. Tira stiffened in front of Henna as they watched the fight, a fight that lasted only a fraction of a second, as it went crashing into the fireplace. Henna felt her world start to collapse as she saw Rory trip back over Ils' body and fall down. The screaming gibbering bloody thrashing ape in the fireplace that flailed as its fur and cloths burned mattered very little to her. It mattered even less as she felt Tira sliding to the floor in front of her.

Tira felt the hot hammer stroke enter her chest. In that moment she knew she had saved the life of her friend. The fight in front of her dimmed from her sight as her body reported to her the pain and burning. It was getting hard to stand and breathe. Her eyes swam as she collapsed. Her friend was there. She had known so few friends. And none as beautiful as her friend save her own mother. It was time. She had but one regret... "I never got to read my book. You take it." Her eyes closed.

As another friend died in front of her, Henna felt a resolve solidify within her. What it was was not yet clear. Sorrow, pain, loss all filled and upheld the growing resolve. She was the first-born of this pride. She had a duty to them all. Carefully she straightened out Tira's body on the floor. Then she went to see to Rory. She hardly noticed as the thrashing, burning wreck that had once been a cold blooded killer finally found it's way into the kitchen and out the back door into the breaking dawn. Kneeling by the injured lion, she looked to see what injuries he had sustained. His forehead had split where he had hit the fireplace. Blood flowed down in one eye and down and around his muzzle. As his mouth was open and taking ragged breaths she could see two broken teeth and what looked like a few more missing. But far worse, a bullet hole in his upper stomach area bled a blackish blood. With his one clear eye he looked at her. "Is he..." Rory gasped. Henna looked up and back down to him. "It is gone, that thing, you stopped it." Rory's breaths came more rapidly. Then with effort he spoke, "You must... take the others... run... hide... survive... and remember." He closed his eye as he struggled for breath. "Too late for me... run now... may be others... besides that one."

And as all young adults are tend to do, she disobeyed him, just a little. She stayed with him for the last few minutes. Tending to the others could wait. She could see from where she sat beside Rory that they had already taken the final sleep. After the last breath was taken, the last breath of the one she had come to love more as her father than any other, she gently arranged him in a more respectable position. Kissing him gently on the cheek, "Good night Father, I will always remember as you asked." Then one by one she tended each of the others telling them goodbye as well, even little Lynette. Though that goodbye hurt more for some strange reason.

{Rory, you're forgetting something aren't you? You need to wake up and tell them.} Tell them what? {You remember the last things you learned from me. After you had raided the town supply hut and sat eating and asking me questions before you left.} I remember, I had said how good it was to be back in the Center. And you had thought it was an odd name. I asked you what you called it. {That's right, I called it the Mobile Analytical Laboratory. Or MAL for short.} And I asked if that had anything to do with the name Malchix. You told me we had taken two things and made them one. I forget what the chix stood for. {That is the important part. That stood for Characteristic Human Intelligence eXperiment. That was how I created you.} Right, the name of Those To Come After is Humans. That's what I forgot to tell them. I'll do that as soon as I get up...

As the rising sun moved to its morning position it found a strange sight. There was a springbok, with a pack of food on its back and water bottles hanging from its shoulders as it closed a door. Then the lonely traveler picked up a small brush and jar of paint and for a few minutes was busy with the door. Then the jar and brush was left on the doorstep as she picked up a wooden box with a book balanced on top. She turned and walked away, her head held high and the morning light played on the silver rings on her antlers. A couple a dozen paces away she passed by the ruins of some creature and did not even look down. The thing on the ground moved a little and then was still. She kept going. On through the blasted plains, through the blowing dusts she walked into a dead world.

INSIDE THIS HOUSE LIES THE HONORED REMAINS OF THE LAST FAMILY OF THIS WORLD. THE PRIDE OF RORY THE LION. SHED TEARS AND KNOW SHAME, YOU WHO CAME TOO LATE.

EPILOG

The data from the M.A.L. was incontrovertible. The terraforming had failed utterly. What the remote sensors picked up showed a few dying fields and catastrophic orange algae blooms across the oceans. From that A.I. knew the primitive original life forms had survived at least as they pushed back against the green and blue alien forms they had planted so many many years ago. This planet would now never be ready for the humans. The mothership known by its creators as a Lightship (A.I. forgot the reason, its databanks were old and purged of non-essential trivial), having deposited the five terraforming sections had hidden itself in a deep crater on the north pole of the larger moon. There it was afforded enough protection from the periodic solar storms to continue to function for the life of its reactors. Remote dish antenna over the edge of the crater wall allowed it communication with the planet-side equipment. Now there was no point. One final set of duties now occupied the artificial mind. A mind that once had been based on an organic brain, now long since copied into complex artificial neurons and synapses. Over the next few months three satellites were launched to space near the edge of the star system. There they activated, comfortably far from the overactive star. Sending out a signal of failure and danger to a ship that would never arrive. A.I. calculated it could live for another 500 years with the remaining fuel in the reactors. But it really didn't want to. It waited for one special time, then sent an apology down to a dead world through the M.A.L. There was no one to hear it. Then as an electronic mouse wept, surges and short circuits consumed the mothership's main systems.

This ends Book Zero: The Last Malchix Night (The End of Flight Three)

of Desperate Star Flights, The Series. © 2012 Rocketroo

Stay tuned for the following books of the series:

Book One: Desperate Earth (The First Step in Fear)

Ecological collapse, an impending meteoroid strike and politics gone mad all race to see which can destroy humanity first. Can a grieving scientist and an artificially enhanced dog save the species? Can they do it even if they are already dead?

Book Two: Politics Lost (The Disaster of Flight One)

A memory of grief makes for a harsh wall to breach as a desperate half pirate crew makes for what they hope to be their new home. Only to find it filled with those who already regard it as theirs.

Book Three: Gentle's World (Flight Two: Life in the Balance

A once powerful elite cadre holds a secret of possible impending doom for this last bastion of refugees. But now that doom is five hundred years late. What is a maudlin member of the elite to do now that the political star of his position is setting into a sea of ennui? And what if a history forgotten repeats itself?