The 1st Chapter of Tempest Makers: Book 1 of the Apex Predator Trilogy

Sand the Color of Clay

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Patli heard movement from the mud-covered corpse he found earlier in the day. He looked up from the papers he found in the wreckage and watched the body move its limbs and roll onto its back. The creature opened its mouth, turned on its side, doubled over at the waist and moaned. Patli put down the writing he could not understand and left his place by the fire to walk through ankle-deep sand. He raised an arm to block the setting second sun from view and stood above the body.

"What do we have here? Pity. I thought you were dead." The Melovian scratched the base of the stubby gray horn closest to his eyes, rubbed his chin with the pads of all four claws of the left, and put the claws of both bottom arms on his hips.

Patli's companion called from his place by the fire as he stirred the contents of a pot. "To catch a human alive is rare to begin with, but when they arrive fresh to market you fetch a greater price." He craned his neck and watched the body writhe.

"True, Izel. True. One time after a hunting trip I brought one of their headless corpses to Ansmelder the Old, who was in need of one of their wombs for some Swvri ritual or potion or something. The tissue was so filled with rot, his curses could be heard from the other side of Ol-In… Maybe this fresh one will make amends... Come, Izel. Help me clean it up."

"That squirming thing reeks of soosan, Patli. Twenty larros."

"Twenty larros? Patli's cheeks puffed past his eyes. "I am not the one who rolled it in swamp and animal waste. Are you trying to drain me dry before I get anything—?"

"Oh, none of that. The human is alive." Izel stood to get a better look at the human. "You will easily get fifty larros for it, plus whatever you get for the items you took from the crashed vessel—and I know a vessel is in the sands because those things are not out this far from their hives without one. Do not try to play games. I am as sharp as your hunting bird, if not sharper."

The bird, on cue, stood from its perch, stretched its upper sand-colored wings to their massive length and shook its lower wings. It opened its large curved beak in a yawn and returned to its original state, eyes closed.

"Noigetot." Patli spat on the ground and mumbled, "Swvritotan life drainer."

"'Noigetot' indeed. Who raised you to talk like that?" Izel shook his head and clucked his tongue. "Anymore foul language out of your putrid trap and you will get no help from me, and good luck getting the thing to market.”

"Fine. Twenty larros."

"Another word of advice." Izel looked around to confirm no one else listened. "I would watch my words. I would hate for Vasso Swvrito or one of his minions to catch you using his name like that."

Patli narrowed his reptilian eyes. "Are you saying you are one of his spies?"

"No. Any day not under his notice is a good day. I know those who have disappeared soon after catching his ire. A coincidence not lost on me."

Patli hissed. "Swvrito is a betrayer of our people. Others around the fires use his name as foul language. I think it suits him. He deserves the worst kind of end."

"And I think he will get it and we will all celebrate that day. But until then, quiet." Izel patted his companion on the back. "So. Where did you find it?"

"What?''

"The human."

"Near the swamp, not long after the last storm. It's a good time to hunt for things to sell."

Izel's exhale pitched spittle on the ground and he clinched all four claws. "These storms have become worse since the humans arrived." He kicked the sand. "It seems like a storm comes every day."

"A storm does come every day."

"Every day. Every. Single. Day. What is to be done? Offerings are made and nothing happens." He pointed to the human. "It seems like more of them arrive. Befouling the air and ground."

Patli looked up from his gaze at the sand and whispered, "I do not think the daily offerings to calm the storms are enough."

"What do you mean?"

"I mean, what have the offerings been? Hmmm? Wine. Bread. Herbs."

Izel narrowed his eyes at his friend. "Yes. Yes. Wine for the water storms. Herbs for the sand storms. Bread for giant winds—"

"Do we know if anyone has offered flesh?"

Izel recoiled from his friend and almost bumped into the bird on its stand. "What are you saying?"

Patli stomped, stood tall and took a step forward. "I am saying this is Melovia and we are Melovians. I am saying we were here first. We have done nothing but pray and defend ourselves. Have you not been listening around the fires?" He shook his claw at the human. "These things are here bringing mutated versions of our own kind to rally against us, and Vasso Swvrito is their creator." He paused to catch his breath, dropping his head to his chest to spit in the sand. "He lies with their females and brings millions of fire-breathing spawn to hatch into even more of the abominations. Swarms of them crawl all over our world, crushing everything in their way. They set fire to all the food and destroy temples." Patli's chest puffed in and out like a bullfrog. "The offspring's' bodies are wider than the humans. They have scales like ours, but smooth like the skin of humans. The horns are three like ours, but sharp as hunting spears. Four arms like our warriors."

"Calm, friend. Talk around the fires is a swill of gossip. I take that information with great distrust. I have run into too much misinformation for my comfort. Be careful what you say around them and the humans."

"I will not. For all they say and do, have you ever heard the humans try to speak our language? It is an insult to the senses."

Izel raised all four claws to silence his friend. "I am not saying I do not trust your words. I am a greater believer in seeing an act versus hearing information passed down by who knows what, before it gets to my ears. Do you know if the talk is fueled by cheap-rock-wine? Granted, I know little of these humans and even less of the abominations—"

"Father says he has seen one and says they are giants. They block the sky."

"Where did he see it?"

"He was at the market in Pla'ao Cele, the Vlaxorian's tent."

"Pla'ao Cele?" Izel's face recoiled as if from a bad smell. "What is your father doing with a Vlaxorian? They came in on the same wind as the humans."

"Vlaxorians are excellent basket weavers. The material Pla'ao uses for her baskets is native to her planet and quite sturdy. Father said he was negotiating a price when he felt the ground shake. He looked everywhere for the source. Quickly the ground shook harder and harder. Then it grew dark. He felt a presence behind him. He turned and looked up as high as he could. In front of him stood the tallest being he had ever seen. It had hands, Izel."

Izel gasped and touched a claw to his chest. "Ancestors protect us."

"It wore clothing much like the human it was with. Father said—" Patli froze, eyes wide. "Did you feel that?"

"Feel what?"

"The ground. I thought I felt the beginning of tremors."

Izel chuckled. "You are quite caught up in your story, Patli. Hiding rock wine I do not know about?"

"I am serious, Izel. Look at my hunting bird. Animals do not lie."

The pair faced the bird as it woke from its nap, tilted its head up and began to screech.

Off in the distance, a dark cloud filled the sky and blew in their direction.

Patli's eyes widened. "Is that another storm?"

A mechanical sound accompanied the cloud and as it moved closer, a metallic object broke clear of its cover.

"Humans."

With no time to hide, Patli and Izel stood motionless knowing those in the craft above must have spotted them.

The sound was like grains of sand blowing around inside Patli's head and forced him to his knees. He covered as much of his head as he could. Despite his clothing, the sand cut across his body. Instinct moved him to grab the strap of his hunting bird as it took flight. A cloud of sand flew up around him such that he could not see Izel. Patli opened his mouth to call out to his friend, but more dust choked him. As soon as he felt the dust begin to settle, he dared to look in the direction of the high-pitched squeal in front of him.

In the distance, a metal craft the color of the sand hovered.

The door to the craft opened and in an instant Patli recognized the abomination with its four arms walk toward him. Another soldier followed within a few footsteps. The craft floated at least fifty steps away and Patli knew the human would tower over him. Their uniforms, also the color of sand, had symbols, moving lights and pictures he did not understand. The confusion froze him. He found it hard to breathe.

Both soldiers had weapons drawn. Patli's eyes watered. The closer the taller one came to him, the more Patli cried. The Melovian dropped from his knees to his side and curled into a ball, to symbolize his submission. Tremors reverberated toward him as the creature came near. The giant stopped in front of him. Patli looked up. The midday sun just behind the soldier comforted him in an odd kind of way.

I deserve this death for doubting the Ancestors’ plan for us. This is just. The offerings are enough. Kin, gone on before me, forgive my doubts and welcome me at your side.

He closed his eyes and laid his head on the ground.

The ground shifted by his head.

"Elder. Elder, are you all right?"

Oh, the deed has been done. I did not feel a thing. Thank you, Ancestors, for being just and welcoming.

"Elder… Do you need aid in rising?"

Patli opened his eyes and looked at the Earth Melovian. The kneeling soldier attached his weapon to his side and removed his helmet. The upper pair of arms saluted Patli. The left hand clinched while the right draped over it, raised to the top of the brow line. The lower pair lay still on its lower limbs. Rounded stumps a shade lighter than his bright green skin took the place of sharp horns.

I still live… Noigetotan, swvri luck.

Patli turned his head and looked at the soldier. Disarmed by the pageantry, he said, "I am no Elder. Ancestors and High Leaders do not hunt." Mindless abomination. Not a scrap of brain in its head. I am not surprised.

The Earth Melovian opened his mouth to speak, closed it and turned to his silent companion. The two exchanged words in the human language. The soldier stood and held out his still hands to help Patli to his feet. "I mean no disrespect—"

Patli heard the hunting bird struggle behind him and realized he no longer held the strap. The soldier called to his companion and pointed to the bird. The smaller soldier ran to restrain the animal before it took flight.

The soldier tripped on something in the sand and pitched forward. He jumped up almost as soon as he fell and stood to take hold of the strap. Izel sat up and gasped for air, all arms at the side where the soldier tripped over him. The soldier spoke to Izel in Human, handing the hunting bird's strap to him.

"Are you all right? Do not worry," the Earth Melovian said to Izel. "We mean no harm." He looked back at Patli. "May I address you as sir?"

Patli nodded.

"Thank you. Sir, we do not know your station and wish to be respectful. Are you and your friend in need of water or medicine?"

Patli shook his head. "Izel are you in need of aid?"

"I think this great moving sand pile broke every bone in my body."

"Izel." Patli almost stopped breathing and said just loud enough for the giant to hear, "He is fine."

"I am glad, sir. My name is Ropotonishkul Mjodon."

Why is that family name so familiar?

"This is Marcus Walkins." Mjodon gestured to the soldier who pulled off his helmet and repeated Mjodon's salutation.

The human had smooth dark skin, no horns, but tiny flaps on both sides of its head.

What are those things on its head? Ill-formed wings? He looks burnt all over yet does not look in pain. Ancestors. I'm surrounded by mutants. Patli returned his attention to Mjodon.

"We are searching for an officer – human, female. She was with another officer on patrol. We found the wreckage of their ship and the body of her partner not far from here."

Oh no. The human. Where is it? Everything was under a layer of sand from the ship's arrival.

"Our ship's sensors detected life in this direction. Have you seen a human with that description, sir?"

***

The heat of the sun warmed the back of Ropotonishkul Mjodon's scale-covered head. He watched the tiny Melovian tremble as he spoke to him. The old male must have been three feet tall. Mjodon could only guess at his age. The gray of his skin aged him around fifty human years. Since he was a hunter, and thus low borne, the gray male and his companion were the worst treated class of Melovians. Tears followed the tracks on the only clean part of his face. Mjodon wanted to comfort him, but knew the missing officer had little time left, if she still lived.

"Mjodon, snap out of it," Walkins said. "You can hug it out with your kin later."

Mjodon glared at Walkins and opened his mouth to reply when he saw the ground shift past Walkins.

"Behind you."

Walkins turned and sprinted to the movement in the sand. He dropped to his knees and swept sand away in a small area and leaned forward. Mjodon watched his companion's lips move. Walkins looked at him.

"It's Baaski. She's alive." He swept more of the sand away from her. Walkins pressed a button to activate a scanner in the palm of his glove and swept it over her body. He pressed more buttons on the wrist and looked up at his partner. "The body and distress sensors in her suit are missing." He glared at Patli. "We need to leave. Now." A door on the side of the ship opened and a gurney emerged and floated in Walkins' direction, stopped within inches of him and hovered. He guided the gurney next to the injured officer's side.

The male pulled away from Ropo and refused to look the Earth Melovian in the face. If Ropo had time, he would have interrogated him and his friend according to procedure, but the injured officer's life took priority. Mjodon smiled and reached for his front pocket. The old male in front of him flinched and closed his eyes so tight Mjodon knew the Melovian expected to be struck, or worse.

Ropo made sure Walkins was preoccupied stabilizing Baaski. The Earth Melovian leaned down next to the male's ear and whispered, "Sir. On behalf of the Human Federation, we apologize for any discomfort and ask that you and your companion please accept this token toward your well-being. May you always be wise."

Mjodon placed two pouches of coins on the ground, stood, jogged past the other Melovian and helped Walkins place Baaski on the gurney. She screamed. Her torso stiffened and arched before she collapsed. The gurney lifted to its original height and carried her onto the ship with Walkins close behind. Mjodon turned to look at the two males staring at them. He gave them another slow salute, waved his left hands and climbed aboard the ship.

***

Izel shielded his face as the vessel rose into the air, flew toward the second setting sun and disappeared. He looked at Patli.

"It did not look like he could breathe fire."

Patli shrugged and shook his head. "He said his family name is Mjodon."

Izel's mouth fell open and his eyes widened. "If that is true, then he is capable of much worse."