On Earth, there are three Triads intending to integrate
not only the three peoples and stop the war that threatens to break loose and
slaughter Humans and devastate their world; but to stop the war that consumes
Kiiote economy and Yown’Hoo moral fiber. All three intelligences hover on the
edge of extinction. The merger of Human-Kiiote-Yown’Hoo into a van der Walls Society
might not only save all three – but become something not even they could
predict. Something entirely new...
The young experimental Triads are made up of the smallest
primate tribe of Humans – Oscar and Xiomara; the smallest canine pack of Kiiote
– six, pack leaders Qap and Xurf; and the smallest camelid herd of Yown’Hoo – a
prime eleven, Dao-hi the Herd mother. On nursery farms and ranches away from
the TC cities, Humans have tended young Yown’Hoo and Kiiote in secret for decades,
allowing the two, warring people to reproduce and grow far from their home worlds.
“We had nearly fallen into stagnation when we encountered
the Kiiote.”
“And we into internecine war when we encountered the
Yown’Hoo.”
“Yown’Hoo and
Kiiote have been defending themselves for a thousand revolutions of our Sun.”
“Together, we
might do something none of us alone might have done…a destiny that included
Yown’Hoo, Kiiote, and Human.” (2/19/2015)
Saint Clodoald, Minnesota, was the destination I’d been given.
It would be thirty-five kilometers straight west. Retired, Lieutenant Commander
Patrick Bakhsh who had been our harsh tutor and sensei had set me this mission.
Me and the other Human in the Triad, Xiomara, were both black belts in
taekwondo and as good as we could be as teenage Mixed Martial Artists; though
the only ones we’d ever fought was each other.
I trusted Retired. I had to believe that he knew what he was
doing when he sent me here.
I glanced at my chrono. It was still light up above, but at
this time of year, it would remain so for only another hour. I wasn’t excited
about floundering around in the dark, so I poked around, finding a backpack
which I opened.
There was a Kiiote coldlight and I used that to root around
in the bag – it was designed to be held in the mouth. I found a knife and a
collapsible bottle as well as a small supply of dried food – it was edible by
Humans, but tasted like sawdust and glue. I sighed. I wouldn’t be eating very
well for a while. Of course, none of us had eaten very well since we left the
Cities. We’d been running from whoever attacked the Triad headquarters, which
set off some kind of Kiiote-Yown’Hoo skirmish, drawing Humans into the mess as
well. Someone military is following us and they’d had no problem with blowing
up the farm my ancestors grew up on.
By then, sunset was less than a half an hour away. I ran up
to the surface and cracked the door.
Something rammed it, knocking me back, my head slamming
against the wall…
When I woke up, I had no idea where I was.
A deep voice said, “Don’t move, stupid. I just got the
bleeding to stop. What are you doing sneaking up from the underground? How’d
you get down there? What did you come up here for? There’s a cold front moving
in and it’s supposed to go down to fifteen below two nights from now. What’d
you wanna do, die?”
I blinked because I couldn’t see straight. My vision kept
shivering. I felt like I wanted to throw up but couldn’t. Then I realized my
mouth tasted like I already had. “How hard did you hit me?” I finally managed.
It wasn’t very clear, sort of mumbly, but it didn’t seem like I could
annunciate.
“If you’re worried that it’s a concussion, it’s not. After I
knocked you down, I stunned you.”
“Why?”
“Because you busted out of the tunnel and there’s not
supposed to be anyone down there! I thought you were an invasion!”
“An invasion of one? How’s that possible?” My words were
clearing up, but I had a huge headache. I closed my eyes again and laid back.
“It’s a stunner headache. It’s gonna get blindingly bad in a
second.” The voice stopped talking as the headache made me feel like my head was
in a vise. After a few minutes, the voice said, “Now it’s gonna fade to nothing.”
It did and I opened my eyes again and said, “How did you
know that was going to happen?” I still couldn’t see anything, but suddenly
realized that was because it was dark. “Why’s it dark?”
“I knocked you over and stunned you just before sunset. We’re
in a hut near the airstrip.”
“Airstrip?”
“Yeah, used to be a small, commercial airport, but it died
after the Yown’Hoo bombed most of the runways after the fighting heated up with
the Kiiote and they were done pounding the Human armed forces to a bloody
smear. They left one for some reason no one’s ever told me…”
“You sound like you’re the same age as me. How can you have known
that? We weren’t even born yet.”
“You’re fifteen?”
“Yeah,” I said. Hiding stuff like that had never worked for
me ‘cause I’m a terrible liar even when I’m well slept, well fed, and serious.
I NEVER won at the game of poker Retired taught us. I couldn’t bluff. “I’m from
the Cities.”
The voice grunted. “I heard it got bad there a couple weeks
ago.”
“It did. They were trying to capture us, too.”
“Who are you?”
I let my head fall back, pretending to faint again. It wasn’t
entirely an act though. I felt like I was gonna throw up.
The voice said, “I’m Nathaniel. Right now, you feel like you’re
gonna barf. Hang on, it’ll pass in a few seconds; then there’ll be a second
wave and you will barf – try to anyway. I don’t think you have anything left to
throw up…” I followed his prescient information. When I was panting, laying
back and feeling like I’d almost vomited up my intestines, he said, “OK. You
should be able to sit up now.” I did. He turned on a flashlight, a dim one, and
aimed it at his face, saying, “Nathaniel Wallace-Usorituen.”
“Your dad…”
“Actually, my mom was the pilot. Dad was just her mechanic.
After she died in the aftermath of the invasion, Dad taught himself how to fly.
Mom was always the one people talked about – Petrova Godly Usorituen, Russian-Nigerian
fighter pilot.”
“You mom was Peter Wallace?”
“Yep.”
“I just figured they were gay.” Crinkling material made me
thin Nathaniel shrugged.
“People think a lot of things. Nah, Mom and Dad weren’t gay;
they were cis-hetero. Me, too, by the way, if that even matters.
"It doesn't," I said.
"Anyway, Dad’s
sleeping. Why are you here?”
I took a deep breath, feeling better than I had since…well,
since leaving Triad HQ… and said, “Retired Lieutenant Commander Patrick Bakhsh…”
I didn’t get to talk anymore, because Nathaniel shot me with his stunner again.
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