If you asked a Kinter what they wanted most out of life the answer would be pretty much universal. There was an almost genetic desire imprinted into the species for a piece of land to farm, good partners to raise kids with, and the occasional dreamfruit. When an opportunity had come to resettle worlds ravaged by the Engressia whole populations had leaped at the chance to finally live out their cultural dream. Other races had passed up on the opportunity calling the strip mined planets “poor” and unable to host a proper civilization.
What did a Kinter care about fissile materials or strategic resources? There was soil to farm, wood with which to build, air to breathe and water to drink. They didn’t need quantum computers or starships to be happy. As a species they had advanced out of necessity, not desire. Few Kinter desired to live in sterile rooms or work with cold soulless machines.
Most wanted the sun on their faces and rich dark earth beneath their hooves. That was not to say that they carried any animosity towards technology, far from it. Technology just wasn’t as important to them as it was to other races. If there was no hurry, why drive when they could walk? If a conversation was worth having, why not have it in person?
For all intents and purposes their world might have seemed quite backwards. But it was a happy one, mostly. No war, no famine. A good place to raise a family. So far they had managed to almost completely colonize the primary continent. It was coming along slowly without advanced technology, but the Kinter didn’t mind. Things took as much time as they took, no more, no less.
As Simesh walked into the kitchen with his basket of goods from the Demon’s homestead he thought back on how lucky he had been to find Kinna and Linna. Though they were both the love of his life, and possibly the reason for his current hardships. No, that wasn’t fair to them. He put the thought out of his mind. Umlek had always been a snake in the grass. The water merchant would have acted in accordance with his nature no matter what.
The only difference would have been that Simesh would have faced these hardships alone, instead of with the support of two beautiful intelligent mates that he had loved since the moment he met them. His current happiness was all grandfather Hulik’s fault, of course. The sage had insisted that he attend the harvest festival even though he had chores to do. “You are young, the work will be here when you return.” Hulik had said conspiratorially. “And I have a feeling in my rumen that tonight is one you would rather not miss.”
Hulik’s rumen was legendary, almost as respected as the sage himself, and not to be questioned. So Simesh had gone along to the harvest festival along with his friend Umlek, not knowing that a wedge would be driven between them. But so was fate, and now knowing what he did he would have traded a dozen Umleks for just one Kinna or Linna. It was merely his good fortune to have them both. In fact, if he had known what a bastard Umlek would have turned into, he would have happily given him away for free.
The tragedy was their two families had settled this land together generations ago. Resources had been scarce so they had pulled together as good Kinter did and helped each other thrive in this strange new place. They had helped build each other's houses, plant the first crops, and they had dug two wells. One for each homestead.
An agreement had been struck at the time, if one homestead’s well should go dry then the other one would supply water for both. It seemed logical, even generous, seeing as Simesh’s land was lower and by all rights should have had more water. But by a quirk of geology their well had run dry first and Umlek’s ancestor had honored the bargain. An agreement that had stood for generations until Umlek had changed his mind.
Simesh had called in an expert to evaluate his property and dig a new well but scans had shown no water was to be found. It wasn’t even worth digging. So he had bought water from Umlek for increasingly ridiculous amounts of credits until he was nearly destitute. Thankfully the Kinter had a universal system of aid, so if nothing else his family remained fed and healthy, but the final blow had come when his greedy neighbor had begun the process of trying to steal his land.
But that was a problem for future Simesh. He walked to the kitchen and rubbed his hands back and forth in the sand bucket, removing the last bits of sticky Drolis juice from when he had thrown the ripe fruit at Umlek. He clicked his teeth together as he remembered the look of surprise and fear on the water merchant’s face when he realized that the only thing stopping Simesh from killing him, was Simesh.
Perhaps he should have finished the job then, Simesh wondered as he carefully emptied the basket of fruits and veggies onto the table, taking care not to bruise even a single one of the precious morsels.
It had been a duel and Umlek had made the first move. Simesh would have been justified for ripping his rival’s throat out with his own horns. But that would have been giving in to the Demon’s taint. For he was realizing now that his family had indeed been tainted, for generations maybe. The strange sayings and wisdom of his grandfather, the way Hulik’s words cut like steel when he was angered, it was their Demon speaking through him.
“Wise creatures, those Demons.” Hulik had said. But he hadn’t thought twice about passing on that wisdom to his grandchildren, wisdom that carried the Demon taint. For who else could have taught Hulik to fight like that? The Demons lived in isolation for a reason, even seeing or speaking to one was said to bring on madness. Yet somehow Hulik had survived, thrived even.
Simesh thought of his kids. They would be walking home from school with their mothers, blissfully unaware of the taint that he had unwittingly unleashed upon them. He had just thought it was common sense what he was teaching them. After all, why wouldn’t they want to know how to defend themselves? It had seemed logical when his grandfather had explained it all to him. It was only later as an adult that he had realized this was not common knowledge, though at the time he had attributed it to some kind of sagely wisdom. So he had kept quiet and passed on this knowledge called Krav Maga to his kids once they were old enough.
His hand grasped a familiar texture in the basket and his moral quandary was instantly forgotten. Dreamfruit, his fingers told him. The fist sized fruit had a slick white skin dripping with oils wrapped around flesh as black as night. One single fruit would buy enough water to keep the homestead running for an entire season. But… it was rude to sell a gift.
He looked the dreamfruit over, remembering that Hulik had been the one to teach him that lesson in etiquette. Just because the information may have originated from the Demons didn’t make it wrong. Besides, the dreamfruit would make his wives happy and there might even be a few slivers left for the kids. He couldn't care less about the Demon taint if it meant he had the skills to protect and provide for his family.
After all, the graveyards were full of Kinter who had died noble and pure. A thought which he would later realize had definitely come from the Demon. But of course by then it would be too late.
***
Much later that evening he lay in bed with Kinna and Linna, the sweet taste of dreamfruit lingering in his mouth after each kiss and making his lips tingle. Lovingly he scratched the soft downy fur behind Linna’s ear, her favorite spot to be caressed. Kinna preferred the backs of her legs, which he stroked appreciatively before getting out of bed.
Naked and primal Simesh walked to the garden, peeing against the trunk of a fruit tree so even that bit of moisture would not go to waste. His portion of the dream fruit was cool in his hand and he carefully nibbled at it as he went deep into the fields. To some the fruit was a narcotic, to others it was more spiritual. It all depended on which part you ate. Right now he needed guidance more than good feelings so he had chosen the bitter flesh closest to the seed, the part that brought on visions.
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Hulik was waiting for him under the stars, not bent and old as he had been when he died. This was a young virile Kinter with vibrant golden fur and long horns, prancing through knee high grass like a kid. “So the Demon gave you a dreamfruit.” He observed, pointing to the bare seed in Simesh’s hand. “You always did prefer the bitter truths to sweeter lies.”
Simesh did not need to speak to let his feelings be known. This figure was part of him, it knew his mind. Language would only get in the way.
“Yes… I suppose I do have some explaining to do.” As Hulik paced the sky seemed to shimmer behind him. “The Demon offered knowledge and wisdom, which as I would learn are two different things. Right now you have knowledge, but you don’t have the wisdom to know what to do about it. So you came to dig up the dead and pick my brain, is that about right?”
Simesh nodded, wondering if the phrase “pick my brain” was Demonic in origin. He had never heard anyone else say it besides Hulik. Most would have said “share my heart” or “be of like minds” but not his grandfather. He had a whole litany of phrases that stuck in the brain once you heard them, every single one carrying the Demon taint.
“You focus too much on ideological purity.” Hulik snorted. “The Demons infected our culture long before I was born. This is just a minor symptom, as is Umlek’s greed and your warrior prowess.” He leapt forward until he was nose to nose with his grandson. “Our demon called it an inevitable darwinian evolution. I believe I explained the concept to you, how the strong survive.”
This was all wrong. Simesh thought as he backed away. Yes the strong did survive, but only as part of a community. He understood evolution, the nuts and bolts of how his kind had gone from dumb herd animals to a space faring species. But this idea was wrong. Or was it?
“Yes, an individual is strongest when it is part of a community, but selfishness will allow an individual to exploit that community and take more benefit for themselves and their offspring than they should be allowed. If only a few individuals milk the system, no problem. But as selfishness spreads eventually the whole thing collapses.”
Simesh heard something creeping along the fence line and crouched down low. He stalked towards the source of the sound, ignoring Hulik. Someone was out there… but why? When he was halfway to the fence his answer came in the form of a flaming torch flying through the air.
He sprinted and dove for it, catching the torch by the handle and barely managing to keep the flame away from the dried grass of the field. A few droplets of flame shook loose but he managed to put them out with his other hand. His heart was pounding in his chest, not frightened, but angry. As angry as a Demon.
“Umlek’s men no doubt.” Hulik knelt down to examine the torch. “Looks like he remembered your words about burning down your homestead rather than letting him have it.”
There were surprised whispers in the darkness. They had expected the field to go up in flames by now. They could see the fire, but Simesh was hidden by the grass. Would they throw another torch or come to reclaim this one first?
“The first one, I fear.” His grandfather mused. “They would be afraid of stepping into the field only to have it suddenly catch. Evil Kinter are most often cowards.”
There was the sound of sloshing liquid as the Kinter in the shadows prepared another torch. Simesh had a vision in his mind’s eye as clear as if he was seeing it in person. Two Kinter, one with a rag tied around a stick, the other with a metal container of fuel pouring it onto the torch. He knew where they were.
Simesh stood up and sprinted towards the stone fence, cocking his arm back, finding one of Hulik’s many phrases working its way past his lips. ”Surprise motherfuckers!” He and the ghost called out in unison as he threw the torch back over the fence.
For a second he heard nothing besides a shout of surprise. Then there was a sound like a metal container dropping followed by a pair of high pitched screams. Flames streaked skyward as the torch ignited the spilled fuel. In a blind panic the two would-be arsonists screamed and beat at the flames that spread along their clothes and fur. It wasn’t particularly effective.
“Stop drop and roll, asshole!” Shouted Hulik, a phrase that was definitely Demonic in origin. Luckily none besides Simesh could hear him. Simesh looked around for a hose or a bucket then remembered that Umlek had turned off his water the week before. There was nothing he could do.
Eventually the two Kinter fell to the ground, the flames consuming them. Umlek kept his property watered and verdant so there was little risk of the flames spreading.
There was a commotion in the main house and Umlek rushed down to help his wounded men. Realizing he was too late he looked over to Simesh who was standing on his own side of the fence, the light of the flames reflecting eerily in his eyes.
“Why didn’t you do something?” Shouted Umlek, pointing a finger accusingly. “What kind of Demon lets fellow Kinter burn?”
Simesh vaulted over the fence and grabbed his neighbor by the damaged horn, taking no heed that he was naked or that workers were beginning to surround him. Umlek had glued the fractured horn back together but it was still fragile and tender. It creaked in his hand.
“I would have saved them, but someone turned off my water.” Simesh growled, a distinctly un-kinterlike sound. Then much more quietly he leaned in and spoke, his voice so cold that it could have frozen flames. “You tried to set my fields on fire because I embarrassed you. No doubt you justified it, believing that we would smell the smoke or see the flames and run away.” His words were calm, almost understanding.
“But you put my wives and kids in danger. I could kill you where you stand. I should kill you where you stand. But the Demon hasn’t gotten a hold on me yet, not like it has corrupted you at least. But if you ever try and hurt my family again, if you even mention them, I’ll rip your throat out.”
Simesh leaned back and spoke loudly so all could hear him. Recalling Umlek’s words to him earlier that day. “If you were a peer, I might challenge you. But instead I will educate you!”
He twisted Umlek’s horn. The water merchant cried out in pain, twisting to relieve the pressure. He tried to pry at Simesh’s fingers but he couldn’t break their iron grip. Too late he realized that Simesh had been guiding him downwards, using pain to steer him towards the stone fence.
“Weak Kinter will always shy away from pain, even if it causes them more pain later.” Simesh and Hulik said in unison. He reached out with his other hand and grabbed Umlek’s good horn, pressing the place where horn met skull against the edge of the fence.
The water merchant begged but Simesh had made his decision. He put a knee against the side of Umlek’s face and leaned forward, not jerking, but instead pushing with increasing force on Umlek’s horn. He used the stone fence as a fulcrum as he ripped the horn off at the root, ensuring it would never grow back.
“Demon… you’re a Demon...” Umlek cursed weakly, cradling his head and sobbing on the ground. It spoke poorly of his reputation as an employer that nobody came to rescue him.
“I’m not a Demon.” Rasped Simesh. “You’re a Demon. You’re the one who’s tainted. You would stoop to murder, and for what?” He reached down into the sandy soil and rubbed it into Umlek’s mouth. “Is this what you want?” Simesh screamed. “If there’s no water on my land, that means yours will dry up next. We’re two dead Kinter arguing over our own corpses! There will be nothing left of either homestead within a generation!”
Umlek spit out the dirt. “I had my reasons.” He sputtered, realizing too late the mistake he had made.
In a fit of rage, Simesh grabbed him by the remaining fractured horn. “What could be so important that you would murder for it?” He asked, his eyes searching desperately to understand.
Hulik didn’t bother waiting for an answer. He might have been a hallucination, but he was still Hulik and he loved a logic puzzle. “When they dug the two wells, ours was the better one until it dried up. Yet when the surveyor came he said there was no water on the property. If there is no water here, where is Umlek’s water coming from?”
Umlek looked up, his eyes widened as he saw the understanding dawning on Simesh’s face. He knew he had been found out.
“You Demon tainted piece of shit. You’ve been selling our own water back to us.” Simesh said in disgust as he threw the water merchant down to the dirt where he belonged. “You paid the surveyor to tell us there wasn’t any water and we shouldn’t bother digging. But we share the same aquifer.”
Of course the Demon had known, that’s why he had given him the shovel. Simesh had assumed it belonged to his father but Kimesh had never written his name on his tools, after all, why would he? Most Kinter considered basic tools to be community property. Guarding against tool theft was something only a Demon would think to do. Just as Simesh had never thought to question the surveyor’s integrity.
“You don’t even deserve to be called Kinter.” Simesh hissed before he reached down and broke off the water merchant’s remaining horn with a rough jerk. He straightened up and called out to what by now had become a crowd of workers, holding the broken horn aloft. His voice boomed out over the night. “I declare that this creature formerly known as Umlek son of Sulek carries the Demon taint.” There were gasps but not, he noted, of surprise. “Secure him, bind his wounds, and we will bring him to the magistrate in the morning for crimes against the Kinter.”
He looked down at the pitiful water merchant who was attempting to staunch the bleeding from his broken horns. “You may have ruined me, but I’ll tell them you’re Demon tainted too.” Hissed Umlek, “And they will believe me. Just look at you. They’ll exile your whole Demon tainted family!”
Simesh looked from the broken horn in his hand to the soft white fur at the underside of the water merchant’s throat. “What the fuck did I say about mentioning my family?” He growled.