Chapter 15: Triumphant Return

“Hey!” Poppy exclaimed, the group stopping. Even Kevin paused beside her, raising his ears.

“What is it?” Murzka asked, scanning the trees ahead.

“I smell a pheromone trail!” she added excitedly, glancing between her companions. “That means we must be close to the hive!”

“We’re almost home,” Cal added, giving her a pat on the shoulder.

“We must be nearing the outskirts of the settlement,” Gorz confirmed. “Yarta should have made it back long before we did to bring word that you are safe. I am sure that everyone will be relieved to see you all return in one piece.”

“I look forward to presenting the Council with my trophy,” Murzka said, puffing out her chest proudly.

“Only for a little while,” Cal chided, wagging a finger at her. “I need to get that thing back to the UAS for study before it spoils. If we’re going to be going out deeper into the jungle, we’ll need to know more about them. We don’t want a repeat of what happened last time.”

They continued on, trudging through the forest, but the dense undergrowth soon gave way to a path. It was only a small dirt track, but it had clearly been forged by the frequent passage of settlers.

“Told you!” Poppy said happily, stepping onto the path. She adjusted her pack, then set off at a determined waddle, the rest of the group following behind her. After a couple of bends in the road, they stumbled across more signs of civilization – one of the mounds of dirt that acted as an entrance to the Jarilan hive. This one was guarded by a pair of Drones, this caste taller and leaner than Poppy, but not as tall or as willowy as the Pilots that he had seen. They were wearing armored, segmented skirts and chest pieces that reminded him of Roman soldiers, small handguns hanging from holsters on their belts. The two Jarilans paused their conversation, glancing up at the newcomers in surprise. One had an azure blue carapace, and the other was a striking orange.

“Hi!” one of them called out, raising an upper hand. Unlike Poppy’s mismatched limbs, their two pairs of arms were much more similar in size. “Are you guys alright?”

“Are you lost?” the second woman asked. “Need any help?”

“We know where we’re going, thanks,” Poppy replied as she marched past them with a smile. They looked on in silent confusion as the two towering Araxie strode behind her, Cal giving them a wave on his way past.

“Nice day for it!” he said, the two aliens sharing a bemused glance.

After another fifteen minutes of walking, Cal saw a familiar sight appear between the tree trunks ahead. It was a domed hut covered over with a carpet of living mosses and fallen leaves, nestled snugly between the roots of a tree. As they drew closer, he started to recognize the familiar layout of the village from his previous trip. The sun was getting low, meaning that it was morning for the Araxie, and there were already people going about their business in the soft glow of the string lights that were strung between the trees. Some of them looked up at the newcomers, dozens of pairs of green, reflective eyes watching them. There were Jarilans too, a handful of willowy Pilots and squat Workers milling about.

The group walked along the central path between the trees, heading for the Council’s hut. They must have made for a strange procession, or maybe word had already spread about the missing expedition. Murzka was rather renowned in the village, after all, and news concerning her would probably travel quickly in such a small community.

The first people to approach them were Workers, a gaggle of half a dozen hurrying over to intercept them, their antennae bobbing in time with their gait. No two were exactly alike, each one sporting a different shaped horn and a unique color of iridescent shell. They surrounded Poppy, peering up at her companions with wide eyes, matching pace with her as she puffed out her chest plate.

“Poppy!” one of them began, seeming to know her. “You’re back! Everyone in the hive was saying you went missing!”

“Where have you been?” another asked.

“Did you get turned around in the jungle?” one of them added.

“I went on that expedition I was telling you guys about,” Poppy replied smugly, adjusting the straps on her heavy pack. “We got into some trouble, but we managed to come out on top.”

“What kind of trouble?” one of the Workers asked.

“You got lost, didn’t you?” another scoffed.

“We found ourselves ambushed by backstabbers,” Murzka explained, the little Workers lifting their heads to look at her. “The beasts caught us unawares and attacked as a pack. Briggs and I slew many – even the hound tasted blood that night, but I was struck down by a blow to the stomach. It was Poppy’s hands that healed me,” she added, gesturing to the resin that covered her knitting scar. “We were delayed by my recovery.”

“She saved Murzka’s life,” Cal confirmed, watching with a grin as the little aliens exchanged impressed whispers.

“I just did what anyone would have done,” Poppy replied with a shrug.

“No way, you saved a huntress?” one of the Workers demanded.

“Backstabbers aren’t real ... are they?” another whispered.

“Sorry, girls,” Poppy continued as she marched along. “I’d love to stop and chat, but we have important business with the Council. Next time I’m down at the bar, maybe I’ll tell you the whole story.”

The Workers fell behind, seeming very impressed, grouping up and starting to gossip amongst themselves.

“I take it that you’re the coolest Worker in the hive now?” Cal chuckled as he walked beside her.

“I don’t know about coolest,” she replied, her humility insincere. “What I do know is that everyone is going to be talking about us. Gossip spreads through the hive like a brush fire.”

Poppy had gone from being a faceless Worker struggling to carve out an identity for herself to a figure of renown in the hive. Cal remembered a time when she wouldn’t even have considered herself worthy of attention – when the idea of being valued or included didn’t even cross her mind. Now, she was striding through the same settlement they had left a few weeks prior with confidence, her head held high. Well, as high as a Worker’s head could reach, at least.

“I am eager to see my pack again,” Murzka said, glancing around at the Araxie who were watching them. “They should not be long returning from patrol duty at this hour.”

“I can’t wait to meet them,” Cal added, earning a smile from her.

They approached the Council building – a structure grander than the surrounding domes that was built around the stoutest tree in the clearing. Poppy paused, gesturing to the body bag that was strapped to the top of her pack.

“You want to do the honors, Murzka?” she asked.

Murzka seemed pleased, giving Poppy a brief bow of her head before unstrapping the bag and slinging the heavy animal under her arm with ease. She took the lead, Poppy and Cal sharing a smirk as they walked behind her, her camouflaged cloak billowing. Murzka had already been a recognizable face in the village, but as the first Araxie to slay a backstabber and bring proof of it, she would certainly reach a celebrity status all her own.

She flung open the door of the building, descending the steps that led down to the recessed floor, her claws clicking on the wood paneling before it transitioned to soft pelts. Cal once again admired the tapestries and rustic decorations that adorned the walls as he followed behind her, rounding the large trunk that was enclosed behind the glass at its center.

The carved conference table soon came into view, its polished surface strewn with paper maps and data pads. There were no other aliens in the room this time, only the Council members, no doubt just starting their nocturnal workday. There were four of them present, glancing up from their task as the group announced themselves, Murzka and Gorz stepping forward.

“Murzka,” one of them began – a female. “It is good to see you safe and sound. Yarta brought back word that you and your wards were safe, and we have been anxiously awaiting your return. Thank you for returning them to us safely, Gorz,” she continued. Gorz gave her a curt bow of respect in response. “It would have been disastrous indeed if the expedition had been lost.”

“We were told that you were injured?” the male standing beside her added, addressing Murzka.

Murzka stepped forward and slung the refrigerated bag onto the table with a thud, displacing a couple of papers, the four Council members leaning over curiously to get a look. Hooking the zipper in her claw, she dragged it open, the scent of spoiled meat making their noses wrinkle.

“I present to you the fabled backstabber,” Murzka declared with a wave of her long arm.

With the bag unzipped all the way, the onlookers could see the creature’s entire body laid out on the conference table before them. In this position, its limbs were tucked up against its long body, its clawed feet and modified rear leg curled in on themselves. The modified knife from which it got its name was prominent, hanging down over the trio of serrated jaws, the beak-like structures now slack and loose. Its three eyes were vacant and glassy, its chromatophores creating patches on its slick skin.

“This ... this is a backstabber?” one of the Council members asked as he reached out to run his pads across its smooth hide. “Then, the stories told by our scouts of creatures that are there one moment and gone the next...”

“If I did not trust our hunters so implicitly, I would not have believed they existed,” another added.

“Chromatophores,” Cal explained, stepping forward. “Those spots and patterns on its skin can change to mimic its surroundings, rendering it almost invisible, especially if you’re not already looking for it. A slight shimmer, the shadows that it casts, its interactions with the environment – those are the only giveaways. They can be very stealthy when they want to be.”

“And you slew one of these creatures?” the female asked, looking to Murzka. “How?”

“It was Briggs who first laid eyes on one,” she replied, placing a heavy hand on his shoulder. “He came across it by chance while hunting mossgrazers.”

“Mostly thanks to Kevin,” Cal added, gesturing to the dog. “His senses are a lot keener than mine – and yours, I suspect.”

“It was only later that we encountered a group of them,” Murzka continued, giving her story a little flair. “When the sun had set, and the mists were as heavy as the rain, a pack of them ambushed us in a glade deep in the valley. There was no warning of their attack, and I suspect that they had been stalking us unseen for some time, waiting for an opportunity to strike. It was a quick and brutal battle. We slew several by rifle fire, and the hound took one by the throat in defense of our sherpa, but one of their number closed the distance and grappled with me. I brought it down with my blade after a struggle, but it struck me in kind,” she said as she drew their attention to the scar on her belly. “I have few memories of what happened in the aftermath, but my packmates dragged me to safety, where our sherpa healed my injuries. I would not have survived without them.”

The Council members seemed impressed, appraising Cal and Poppy in a new light. Murzka’s choice of words was not lost on them. She had chosen to refer to them as her packmates, and that term had meaning to the Araxie.

“Then our settlement owes you both a debt of gratitude,” the Councilwoman said as she gave Cal and Poppy that curt bow of respect. “Murzka is a great asset to our people, and she would have been sorely missed. We rely on those like her to train the next generation of Araxie and to pass on their knowledge.”

“Briggs slew as many as I did,” Murzka added, placing her hand on his shoulder again. “He is skilled with a rifle, and were it not for the loyalty of his hound, we might have lost our sherpa.”

“Poppy deserves the most credit,” Cal added, taking her hand and guiding her forward. “Her job was to carry our gear, but she performed surgery in a tent in the middle of the jungle with only the supplies from our medkits. If you guys send anybody out into the deep jungle, you need to make sure they have a Worker with them.”

“She was invaluable,” Murzka added. “Our expedition would certainly have failed without her.”

Poppy seemed a little less sure of herself in front of the Council, reaching out to pat Kevin’s flank for reassurance, but they each acknowledged her with one of their bows. For that moment, she was the most important person in the room.

“We will be sure to make the Ambassador aware of your contributions,” the Councilwoman added. “You are a credit to your hive, little Worker.”

“Thank you, Ma’am,” Poppy replied as she stood up a little straighter.

“We should like to hear more of what you encountered on your journey,” one of the Councilmen added. “Can we expect a full report?”

“You must tell of these backstabbers,” another confirmed with a nod. “If they are formidable enough to wound a scout so gravely, we must be cautious indeed in our dealings with them.”

“We wish to know all that you know,” the Councilwoman added.

“Certainly,” Murzka replied.

They went over every detail of their journey that they could remember, the Council listening attentively and asking a few pointed questions here and there. Cal and Poppy chimed in with their versions of events, filling in the blanks that had been left in Murzka’s memory by her ordeal. Murzka even showed them the claw that Cal had fashioned into an amulet – the very same that had very nearly killed her, impressing them greatly.

Cal went over what he knew of the backstabbers, detailing what he had observed of their biology and hunting tactics, using the body to demonstrate. It seemed that the Araxie really had treated the animal as a kind of chupacabra, not discounting the stories told by their scouts, but not fully believing them either. Now, they had tangible proof that they could reach out and touch.

Once word that Murzka had returned with a backstabber began to spread, a whole crowd of Araxie formed outside the Council building, waiting to get a look. Like visitors to a museum, Gorz let a few in at a time, Murzka and Cal giving them brief overviews of the story and answering what questions they could about the animal. There were Araxie children, mothers with young kittens hanging from slings, seasoned hunting packs, and even a handful of Jarilans, all of whom wanted their turn. Cal observed that most of the Araxie knew Murzka already, likely due to her high status within the village, and he also noticed that their wariness of Kevin was much diminished. Perhaps seeing him in the Council chambers in the company of Murzka assuaged some of their concerns. By the time they were done, half of the village must have taken a look.

“I really must get the specimen back to the UAS,” Cal said as he leaned over the high table to zip up the bag. “The longer we leave it exposed, the more it’s going to degrade. This swampy environment is doing it no favors.”

“His people will be able to glean more information from their studies,” Murzka explained as she helped him strap it back onto Poppy’s pack. “The more we know of backstabbers, the less of a danger they will pose to our scouts.”

The Council thanked them again, and they said their goodbyes to Gorz, the trio heading back outside.

“Everyone seemed very impressed with your trophy,” Cal said as they emerged into the dimly lit village. “I guess it’s kind of like bagging a mythical creature for you guys. Nothing like slaying a dragon to get your name out there.”

“If she wasn’t famous already, she certainly is now,” Poppy giggled.

“Your names are now known to my people also,” Murzka added. “Cal can be counted among our scouts and hunters, while Poppy is sure to become a healer of renown. Idle Araxie like nothing more than to share a meal and a story. There will be much talk of your exploits in the great hall tonight.”

“Maybe we’ll get our own tapestry,” Cal joked, giving Poppy a nudge.

“It is good to be back,” Murzka sighed, planting her hands on her hips as she appraised the village. “I enjoyed your company greatly, but some time to relax will be welcome.”

“You’ve earned a vacation after what you went through,” Cal added. “You don’t have to justify it. Take a load off, get some hot food, and take a nap in a real bed.”

“Forgive me, but I will not be accompanying you back to the UAS camp,” Murzka began as she turned to face them. “It has been many weeks since I have spent time with the rest of my pack. We will have much to discuss.”

“Of course,” Cal replied, Poppy nodding along with him. “You go find your pack, and we’ll haul this carcass back to the UAS. We know where to find you.”

“I look forward to introducing you both when time allows,” she added with a smile. She bent over to reach Cal, lifting his chin with her finger and locking him in a brief, affectionate kiss. Her sudden display of tenderness leaving him reeling, Cal watched as she crouched down to give Poppy the same treatment, flashes of her long tongue visible between their joined lips. Even Kevin got a scratch on the head, then Murzka turned, striding away into the settlement with her cloak flowing behind her.