Ki-yu, the wild child.
Date [standardised human time]: December 28th, 2117
(18 years, 8 months before the invasion of the radji Cradle).
Ki-yu padded out of the house as the sun was rising, and the air was brisk. Mama and Baba would lie in today, and Ki-yu intended to take full advantage of that. Her recent escapade out of the forest had earned her a stay of berries for a few weeks, and closer scrutiny of her activities. Not that she particularly minded their company, but she also would enjoy some solitude in the wilderness from time to time. The foothills were a tantalising unknown, and today she felt bold. She set out to travel further than she had dared to range alone before.
She headed southeast, past the rolling fields where the lodge sat, keeping the curve of the eastern mountains to her left. A week or so prior, they had all climbed into the buggy and journeyed out here to release the shadow monitors. Well, half of them. Ki-yu had been sad to see so many of them go, especially Boubou, but Mama and Baba said they had important work to do. Here, they told her, the terrain was less mountainous, but still rocky enough so that they could sun themselves to keep warm. They would be happy out there, they told her, the rolling hills were filled with crags and logs, ripe with prey for them to feed upon. Is it prey drawing me out here? Ki-yu wondered. She did not feel particularly murderous, not even a little bit peckish. Still, she kept walking.
Her parents had told her that if she wanted to catch a stiplet, she could do so, so long as she did not torment it, or let it suffer. Ki-yu still vehemently denied that she would ever hunt anything, but… She could not put a name to the feeling. It felt wrong to want to try it, but she also knew, on some level, she was a huntress. And sneaking up on things was so… satisfying. Ki-yu supposed she would know in the moment if she wanted to hunt something.
The trees seemed strange and naked without their leaves, angular branches touched by grey and green lichen scratching against the grey sky. The ground was littered with a tide of browns and oranges that crunched nicely beneath her paws. She was surprised to find so many creepy-crawlies moving through the undergrowth, wriggling away from the light as she peeled back their cover. She even stumbled across an irruta mound, slightly smaller than the one she had first found almost a season ago. Remembering their nasty sting, she gave the insectoids a wide berth.
She sampled some water running in a hitherto undiscovered stream and found it to be fresh and cool. Water dribbled over her lips as the sound of little winged things in flight pulled her gaze skyward. What would it be like? she thought, admiring their lazy swooping dives. To fly above the world like that…
A series of rocks, mossy and unstable, criss-crossed the stream. Ki-yu tried to work on her balance, shakily standing up on her hindlimbs and stepping from one to another. The way Mama and Baba strode about the place looked silly to Ki-yu, but she had to admit it was fun. She almost made it across too, before a slight wobble became a tremor, and she fell bodily into the cold water. She pulled herself up the opposite bank, soaked and cold. She laughed as she blew water out of her nose.
To warm herself up, she started trotting uphill. The trees seem different, she noted as the sun warmed her between the branches. They seem… smaller. Younger, she decided. Do forests not grow all at once? As she loped over a rise, she was surprised to find a vast lake spread out in the valley before her. Is that what an ocean would look like from far away? she wondered. A breeze rolled up off the water, and the current of orange, yellow, and brown leaves took to the air. Ki-yu sat contentedly between the trees and watched them fall.
One leaf, she noticed, blew upwards and stopped against the bark of a tree. Then it did it again, looping up onto a neighbouring tree limb. The motion was so regular, so predictable that it caught her attention; she had never seen a leaf so interesting. She began following it. Ki-yu realised that it was heading in a direction, not just jumping randomly to the nearest tree. Moving ahead of it, she started playing a game, trying to guess which tree it would land on next. It took her a few guesses, but eventually she found the right patch of bark, and the leaf stopped a fraction from the end of her nose. As she looked at it, she realised it was looking back at her. The leaf has eyes! The leaf stem parted, and a tiny white tongue flicked out. A tiny pair of legs were disguised as twigs, and the leaf’s surface was in fact tiny wings disguised as one great frond. It’s some kind of leaf lizard! she realised with a giggle. How clever!
To Ki-yu’s surprise the covert little reptile crawled up onto the end of her snout, its foliage-like wings trembling slightly. Its little legs tickled as it perched on her nose.
“Woah…” she whispered. Taking her breath of wonder as an uplift, the not-a-leaf fluttered off to another perch.
She pursued it again as it flew away in longer and longer arcs. Its movement became harder to predict, and at one stage it led Ki-yu down into the dry and bramble-laden undergrowth. As she tried to press her way through the dry and scratching branches, she found her quarry had eluded her. She was also now quite turned around, and not sure of the direction she came in. As she was trying to determine her next course of action, action it seemed found her. Something small and bounding jumped between the bushes. It passed by so quickly she was not sure what it was. Following its path through the brambles, she peered out into a small creche of trees. There she found the creature, shaking its fur of burs and thorns in the sunlight.
It was a small, fuzzy looking thing, no larger than Ki-yu’s paw. It’s hindlimbs were long, almost comically so compared to its forelimbs which seemed like little more than hands sticking out of furry cuffs. Its long tail was flattened and muscular, and it sat on it as it chewed on a seed pod. Is that a stiplet? she asked herself. It certainly fitted the description Mama had given her of one. The little creature had its back to her, unaware of Ki-yu lurking in the darkness behind it.
You could catch it, something whispered in the back of her mind. Mama and Baba said you could… The stiplet’s tiny purple nose worked the air continuously, its little round ears moving about to the sounds of the surrounding hills. Maybe they’d even be a tiny bit proud of their little predator… Ki-yu tried to shake the thought away, she did not want to hurt this innocent little thing. It was just going about its day, trying to make ends meet. What right did she have to hurt it?
I wonder what it tastes like… she snarled at the thought.
“NO!” she barked at herself. The stiplet paused in its feeding and turned around to face the pair of dark eyes and jaws leering out of the undergrowth. It was looking straight at her, and time seemed to slow. Should I pounce? This feels like the time to pounce… Oh, but look at his tiny little cheeks! They’re so fuzzy, I just wanna squish em! The stiplet, contemplating this new arrival to the foothills slowly raised the seedpod back to its face and kept eating. Ki-yu sat there dumbfounded, staring down at the little prey animal. Shouldn’t it be… running, or something?
“Shouldn’t you run?” she asked it. “Shoo! Go on!” Mr. Stiplet, rather unsocially, dropped the now empty seed pod to the ground and began digging through the tawny vegetation for another. “I mean, I’m a big scary predator, who was going to, you know, eat you.” Wait, was I? The words seemed to surprise her, as though she had not really thought it all through. I’m clearly not a natural killer.
“I mean, neither of us are really playing to part, are we?” she thought aloud. The stiplet made a happy little grunt as it stumbled across another seedpod and tucked in once more. “Have you even seen a predator before?” she asked, stepping out and wandering over to the little mammal. It looked up to consider her, rubbing its little hands over the pod as its tiny nose twitched. If she wished, she could reach down and bite it in two. Or maybe pick it up and crush it in her hand. Which would be better for Mr Stiplet? she wondered. A bite would be quicker… but then he’d also be aware of being swallowed. But being crushed couldn’t exactly be fun, could it? Ki-yu opened her mouth, for what reason she never knew.
Kra-KOW!
A sound like a thunderclap echoed between the hills and Ki-yu sprang back into the shadows, hackles raised. Some fiirits scattered from the nearby trees, and the stiplet, finally garnering some notion of fear, bounded off through the brambles. Breathing fast, she realised whatever it was had not been directed at her, nor anywhere nearby. She crouched there, listening, scanning the horizon for the source of the sound. Eventually, the scent of burning wood reached her, wafting up over the trees from a neighbouring hill. Maybe it was lightning? It sounded like lightning… but there’s no rain… She carefully crept out from the undergrowth and toyed with the idea of going home. Baba had said that I need to watch my curiosity… But… how can I watch what I have no idea what I’m curious about? Ki-yu began following the scent.
The trail led her down one hill and into the next. She climbed that one too, and the smell got stronger. As she got closer, the wind changed and she smelled a subtler tone beneath the burning one, one she recognised as radji. Something is wrong…
KRA-KOW! came the thunderclap and Ki-yu froze, held mid-creep in a low crouch. The forest went silent, but in the distance, voices passed between the trees, men’s voices. Danger, Mama’s voice told her, dangerous means hurt. Beware, Baba’s voice chimed in, your curiosity can use you. Ki-yu stood there for a long while, the smell of the strangers playing in her nose. With a start she realised the smell was getting stronger, even as she stood still. She spied movement ahead, and quickly ducked down behind a nearby tree. Well, now I have no choice, I must know. Cautiously, she peered around it. Two radji men were walking uphill parallel to her, one smaller than Baba, the other much taller. She did not recognise them by sight, but as the wind turned, the burning smell flowed from them like water. They wore nothing but wide belts and carry packs, and each had a gun strapped to their hip. They looked about deliberately as they walked, as though they were searching for something. Ki-yu ducked down again. The leaf litter crunched noisily as they trudged by, and she resisted the urge to peep out at them. Their footsteps gradually receded with distance. People in the woods? That’s not right… Mama and Baba said that we’re the only people out here. The strangers scared her, but Ki-yu wanted to see what they were doing. She was much smaller than them, and she thought she would be able to sneak about unnoticed.
Once they were out of sight, Ki-yu crept from her hiding place and followed them. She stayed at a great distance, relying more on her ears and nose than her eyes. Occasionally they would stop, spotting or hearing something. At one point the shorter man spied a vyrryn scampering between the trees and drew his sidearm. The taller man stopped him with a shake of the head, and the two carried on, Ki-yu shadowing them. Eventually they reached a slight plateau in the terrain, and the men came to a stop. Logs and leaf litter were scattered throughout the area, and Ki-yu had to move carefully to remain undetected. She silently rested down behind a rocky outcrop a short distance from them and watched the men. A thick nest of brambles was growing between several of the trees, and it created a small shelter from the wind. The ground had been disturbed as the bushes had dragged around, but there was no sign of anything interesting. The tall man kicked through the dirt, and then cautiously stuck a paw beneath the brambles, his other on his firearm. He squatted down and poked through the undergrowth, before turning to his friend and shaking his head.
“Two days,” the shorter man said breathlessly. “Two days of looking, not a sign of them.” As he spoke, Ki-yu recognised his voice and suppressed a gasp. The man from the city, the one who nearly found me in the buggy! What’s he doing here?!
“What did you expect?” the other replied, still poking beneath the shrubbery. “I told you it was a long shot.”
Stolen story; please report.
“We put them in the perfect spots, they should still be here!” He became agitated and started scratching at a nearby tree. “It was a silly plan from the start…” The thin man smiled at his companion where he squatted.
“You disapprove Teraka? Tell me, what would you have done differently?”
“I would have stopped them from arming themselves!” Teraka seethed, turning on him.
“Then you’d be a fool,” the thin man said, standing up to his full towering height. “If I’d blocked the purchase, they would have known something was up. The very fact that they’ve suddenly invested in a weapon implies that they suspect something.” Teraka looked quite confused, angry almost.
“But… isn’t that a bad thing? And the cameras, we know they’ve bolstered their security.” He looked about the trees, and Ki-yu ducked down. “We don’t know the full extent of their system. What if they found one?”
“It matters not,” the tall man replied calmly. “Either they don’t know, and we have them, or they do, and we have them because of that. The trap is sprung, the deed is done. Let them arm themselves, it does not hurt us to feed their sense of security. We need only wait for the inevitable.”
“But it could be weeks, months before that happens!”
“It could be years.”
“Then why play this all out? Why don’t we do what we did last time?”
“You’ve never understood these people have you Teraka?” Something about the way he said the others name made it sound like an insult. “This is government land my friend. Certainly, Turin and Braq were rejected by their peers, but the government has an invested interest in seeing that this estate is maintained. We can’t just waltz in and take the place, seize the predators, as they have permission to be here. They are being put to work, such as that is. A hostile takeover would not go down well.” He gripped the shorter man by the shoulder. “Tell me, what do people know of predators above all else?” Teraka looked at the other man carefully.
“Predators kill,” he grunted.
“Exactly. This way, it will all affirm what they already knew: that this was a sad affair from the start, that such an outcome was inevitable. You’re right, it’ll take a little while. But this way will still be much quicker than waiting for it to happen naturally. And make no mistake, it would happen eventually. This is a mercy, after all.”
“Then… that’s why we pressured the locals?” Teraka asked, snorting begrudgingly. “Makes sense… it’ll put them on our side when–”
“Quiet,” the tall man hissed and looked about, sensing something. “We’re not alone.”
Ki-yu began inching backwards, slowly trying to back away from the menacing outsiders. There was a scampering sound, and a shadow monitor jumped up onto the log a short distance from the tall man. The shorter one, Teraka, gasped and pointed. The reptile tilted its head and chirruped at them. In one fluid motion, the tall man spun drawing his sidearm. The thunderclap sounded, louder than ever, and the predator’s chest blew open in a burst of bright blue light.
KRA-KOW!
Ki-yu gasped as the monitor was knocked from its perch and lay twitching and smouldering amongst the leaves. The two men span about, hearing her outburst. Ki-yu did not wait to find out if they saw her, she merely ran. She hurled herself between the trees, leaf litter scattering behind her.
“There!” one called out, and the base of the tree a whisker to her left erupted into blue-white flame. She cried out at the heat, darting away from the blast. Her time with her parents had taught her that radji were slow, particularly over terrain, so her long limbs ate up the embankment as she tried to make for higher ground. She wove between the trees as the men called out to one another, trying to keep the forest between herself and them. The patch of leaves she had kicked up a moment before was vapourised as another shot tore past. All she could smell was ozone, stinging and ferocious as she panted against the cool air. She could hear the men flagging behind her as she threw herself uphill. Another lance of white-hot plasma ripped between the trees, but further from her now. As she crested the rise, she found that her cover was rapidly dwindling. What do I do?! Where can I go?! She could hear her pursuers panting hard as they made their way up the hill, she had seconds. Thinking fast she heaved up a large round rock resting on the ground nearby. With a titanic effort, she flung it down over an edge, and gravity took it. She dove for the large twisting roots of the nearest tree, and curled herself up beneath, just as the radji came over the rise.
“There it goes!” one said, Teraka she thought. A moment later she glimpsed him charging through the shrubbery in pursuit of the rock. She tried to slow her breathing, be as quiet as possible. She was shaking beneath the roots as the tall man’s feet stopped nearby. All he had to do was bend down and he would spot her. He stood there for an eternity, so long Ki-yu began to count his toes. When the shorter man came panting back up the hill, he somehow did not spot her cowering in the darkness of the roots. For the first time, Ki-yu thanked her dark scales.
“Gone,” Teraka said breathlessly, shaking his head. “What was it?”
“I don’t know,” the tall man said. “I saw a blur, what about you?” His voice sounds… curious? Concerned? Ki-yu could not place his tone. Teraka shook his head again.
“I couldn’t get a good look,” he said, holstering his firearm and spitting onto the forest floor. “It wasn’t small. Do you want to keep looking?”
The tall man’s feet turned towards her hiding place, and he took a step towards her. She tensed, preparing to spring out… Ki-yu heard him holster his pistol, and the tree above her shifted as he lent against it.
“Probably nothing,” he grunted as he dug a bur from his foot. He stood up again and turned back to his companion. “We should be going. We shouldn’t linger long.” The taller man placed a paw on Teraka’s shoulder as they headed back over the embankment. “Have I ever told you about the human game chess?” she heard him ask. ”It was strangely nuanced for a predator’s game. The primary goal was not to overwhelm your enemy, nor to completely destroy them. No, the objective was to cut off all their moves, prevent your opponent from taking any step against you. It was called checkmate, and that was how you won the game.”
“Humans are long gone. Why study their culture?” Teraka asked, his voice softening with the distance.
“Everyone needs a hobby,” the tall man drawled, and the forest quieted as their conversation passed out of hearing.
Ki-yu sat breathing hard beneath the tree for some time, shakily trying to collect her thoughts. Who were those men? The shorter one, Teraka, I knew him. He was the man in the city, the one that worried Baba. But who was the bigger man? He smelled… strange.
Ki-yu waited until she heard fiirits chirping in the nearby trees, until the smell of ozone cleared from her nose and the scents of the forest returned to her. Cautiously she crept out from her hiding place. They were gone.
Ki-yu warily picked her way back through the trees. She was surprised how far she had run, how far they had chased her. The smell of ozone was still strong around where each of their shots had landed, the scorch marks now burning a light pink at their perimeter against the trees. Her nose led her to the still smouldering shadow monitor. It lay on its back, its ribcage burned away. Its eyes were pulled back into its skull, a thin trail of smoke rising between its lips. She gave it a sniff. Boubou?! No! The playful little reptile had always been her favourite, and she keened over him.
“I- I’m sorry, Boubou,” she whispered to him, snuffling against her tears. “I should have protected you…” In the distance, dark clouds began to rain down on the valley. Carefully, respectfully, she picked Boubou up in her mouth. Putting the falling sun to her left, she started home.
~*~
The forest had grown dark and stormy by the time Ki-yu saw the faint light of the lodge in the distance, but she was found long before she reached it. It was Turin who stumbled across her shaded hide limping through the darkness. The sound and smell of the rain had hidden Turin’s approach, and Ki-yu had screamed in terror when white-hot torchlight momentarily blinded her. The last thing she had known was a radji towering over her, a spear of light in its fist, and the taste of ozone in her mouth. When she awoke wrapped in warm blankets on the couch hours later, she did not remember much else of the day beyond the smell of her mother’s sodden but comforting arms, and tears in the night.
Whilst the chill had permeated into Ki-yu’s bones, the sight of the fireplace and the walls around her seemed to warm her enough to movement. Her throat was dry, and she was desperately hungry.
“Mama?” she called out weakly. “Baba?” A moment later she heard them tearing down the hall, throwing on robes as they went. They were on her in moments. They seem worried… Ki-yu thought. She knew that they should be but could not remember why.
“Ki-yu!” Mama was there first, picking up a digital thermometer and pressing it to her daughter’s forehead.
“It’s okay, darling,” Baba cooed fervently. “It’s okay, we’re here.” The device in Mama’s paws dinged, and she grunted at it.
“The chill’s still there,” she said setting it down, “but no fever. How do you feel sweetheart? Are you hurt anywhere?” Ki-yu shook her head, confused by the attention.
“N-no, just thirsty, hungry,” she said. Baba stood at once and went into the kitchen. Mama squatted down in front of her, taking Ki-yu’s hand in one paw and patting her head with the other.
“What happened?” she asked gently. “Where did you go?” Where did I go? Ki-yu asked herself and found that she could not answer.
“I… I don’t know. What happened? Where was I?” she said. Mama pursed her lips, a look of concern on her face.
“You’d been gone all day,” she told her. “When you didn’t show up for dinner, we got worried. Spent all night looking for you, but eventually I found you to the south. It had been raining, you were completely delirious…” A stab of fear shot through Ki-yu as Baba walked back into sight carrying water and kibble. Something about the large man disturbed her, and she tried to scramble away, a phantom metallic smell burning her nose.
“Ki-yu?!” Mama yelped, startled by her distress. “Ki-yu! It’s just Braq, it’s just Baba!” Ki-yu closed her eyes and nodded emphatically as she fought against her fear. Just Baba, just Baba, just Baba! She opened them again, and looked up at the father she loved, and had never seen such fear in him before. After taking a few breaths, she pointed to the water, which he shakily passed her. She drank it all greedily, then wolfed down the kibble. When she was finished, she sat back, and found herself to be shaking from more than the chill.
“What happened?” Mama repeated. “Not before, just now?”
“I-I… sm-smelled s-something…” she stammered. The two exchanged a glance.
“What did you smell?” Baba asked.
“B-burning? Like, burning metal.” Something about that description rang true in her memory, and she knew she had been carrying something. “Did… I find something?”
“You… were carrying a monitor,” Mama said slowly. “A… dead one.”
“A-?” A tower of a man, drawing a gun faster than seemed natural. Blue sparks, and the smell of charring meat. “Boubou!” It all came back to Ki-yu at once, the stalking, the men and their conversation, her brush with death. She choked back a sob. Then another came, and a wail poured out of her, long and keening. Her fear and agony left her simultaneously transcendent and wretched. Mama picked her up in her arms, still wrapped in her blankets and her grief. She held her to her breast and Baba put his arm around them both and started singing softly. It was high by his register, but a deep and calming rumble to Ki-yu, like the crash of waves she had heard on her one trip to Bendara. They all sat there together as she wept, he sang, and Mama rocked her gently, drawing strength from one another.
“Come back… young child,
So far… from home,
Climbed mountain and passed by sea.
You’ve walked… a weary,
Path… ahead,
But now, come home to me.”
“Th- they ki-killed him…” she whispered at last, her throat ragged and her grief empty.
“Who did, Ki-yu?” Baba asked.
“Men,” she shrugged and sniffed. “One from the city, the one who was looking in the buggy. Another, a tall man. He smelled strange.”
“Teraka and Juran,” he said at once, less surprised than detached. Ki-yu nodded, and shakily she told them everything. The stiplet who would not run, then the gunshot. Her stalking of the men, then their hunt of her. Her memory of her journey home was less clear, a fog of tears and staggering darkness. Mama passed her to Baba, who began stroking her in his arms. Despite his gentle touch, there was a firm tension in his body that had not been there before. Mama stood, and shakily went into the kitchen. The sound of the kettle boiling seemed oddly out of place in the middle of the night. She returned with three cups. Ki-yu normally disliked the leaf-water, but Mama insisted the warmth would help with her chill. Mama held her cup in her paws not taking a sip, her expression far away.
“Why come into the valley?” she pondered.
“They were looking for something,” Baba murmured, also distant in mind.
“Somethings,” Ki-yu corrected him, his great warm arms a comfort around her. “He s- said, ‘Not a sign of them.’”
“And what’s this ‘trap’ they’ve set?” he asked, rubbing his face with a paw. “Was that what they were looking for? What kind of trap do you set, then cannot find?”
“One that moves,” Ki-yu answered at once. Baba smiled tiredly down at her.
“Clever girl. But I think it’s a metaphorical trap. Some ploy he’s making to… what? Bring us down? Take all our animals?”
“Could… they know about me?” Ki-yu asked, worried. Mama shook her head and laughed wryly.
“I think if they knew about you, sweetheart, they wouldn’t have any need for traps. They could march in through that door right now.” Ki-yu looked nervously towards the portal, and imagined Juran and Teraka walking through, guns drawn, lips pulled back in deadly grins.
“W- why did they do it?” she asked her parents, the tears threatening to break out again. “Why kill Boubou?” Baba kept patting her gently.
“Because they were scared of him,” he said gently. “And that fear made them angry.”
“No,” Mama said, a sad smile on her face as Baba looked at her strangely. “He’s right, that’s what led to Boubou’s death, but that’s not why they killed him.” She leaned forwards, a forlorn and sorrowful intensity in her eyes. “They killed Boubou not because they felt threatened by him, they killed him because they could.”
Suddenly, Ki-yu felt very glad she had not killed the stiplet. Baba’s paws stroked her in the same perfect pattern, working like a metronome. Her mother set down her undrunk tea.
“I think we’re in more danger than we realised,” she said.
---
“We are each our own devil, and we make this world our hell.”
– Oscar Wilde.