Story: Deadly Monkey Girls P1

Copyright (C) 2010 by Kevin L. O'Brien

Cheu'rut-Monkey Hunter paused on the trail through the woods and sniffed the air as his bat-winged ears flexed and swiveled to catch every sound. The human females were close; he could sense them. He bared his fangs and extended his claws as his ears folded and flattened against his tigrish head. These monkey-girls were good, he would grant them that. No human had survived five hunts, and the vast majority did not survive even one. This pair had completed twenty-two, but that would end today. He was the premier man-hunter in all of Wunderland. No human had ever escaped him, not even the vaunted manrretti, the thought of whom gave most Heroes cold chills. He had no reason to believe these two would be any different, but he had not gained his partial name by being so foolish as to thoughtlessly scream-and-leap like his erstwhile competitors had done; he was cautious and possessed foresight, traits often derided by others, but they allowed him to survive. He had trained for weeks for this encounter, analyzed video of their previous hunts, devised moves to counter their speed and reflexes, studied every centimeter of the arena ground, and set plans for ambushes and traps to counter their intuitive intelligence. His only worry was that some other Hero would kill them before he was ready. His strategy was to pursue them without trying to catch them, not at first, to wear down their stamina. Then let them try to fight him as they had the others. He had entered the arena with three other Heroes; they were now dead, killed by the humans in hand-to-hand combat. He wasn't sure what was more embarrassing, that they were so mindless in their attacks, or that they had been defeated by monkey-girls who barely stood tall enough to look them in the sternum. But they would not find him so easy to dispatch. He would disembowel them with one swipe, then rip out their throats. His reward would be the privilege to feast on their succulent flesh, and the right to claim a full name and to mate. He could taste their sweet blood on his tongue already.

A twig snapped behind him; he tensed, narrowing his eyes.

"Hey, you, Tigger!" a high-pitched, squealing voice called out. He spun around, crouching, his arms flung wide, his tail twitching and swishing. No more than ten yards down the trail stood one of the humans, the one with the large mane of golden hair and the prominent monkey mammaries. The one called Sunny

"Yeah, I'm talking to you, you overgrown tabby! I'm right here. Come and get me!"

She was close! Cheu'rut screamed and leapt at her, sprinting at full speed. She turned and ran out into the open field. This was going to be easier than he thought! There was no place for her to hide, and she couldn't outrun him. He quickly closed the distance between them; he would have her in two more leaps . . . eh?!

As she passed a pile of boulders, she collapsed backwards on the ground, slid to a stop, and scrambled on all fours inside them. He landed at the base and raked the ground with his hand, trying to catch a leg with his claws, but missed. There as an opening to a tunnel. He crouched down, looking inside, and saw her pressed against the back of a small cave, wedging her body tightly into the cramped space. She grinned at him, an expression that he knew meant humor in humans, and raised her hands to her head. Jamming her thumbs in her ears, she waved her finger at him as she stuck out her tongue.

"Hah, can't catch me, you humongous freak! Nyeh, nyeh!"

Screaming, he reached in as far as he could to claw her out. He could just barely touch a boot, and she kicked at his hand as she laughed.

"Hey! Tuna-breath!"

The shout came from above him. Looking up in surprise, all he saw was the head-sized rock hurtling at his face.

+++++     +++++     +++++

Eile had hidden among the boulders above the tunnel while Sunny snuck up on the Kzin. His orange, yellow and black-striped coat was especially beautiful, so much better looking than the mangy fur of the other three. She figured they must've been outcasts, only slightly better than telepaths and slaves, being given a chance to redeem themselves, except that really all they were meant to be was cannon fodder, to distract her and Sunny while the professional hunter sized them up and prepared for his attack. Well, he was in for a rude awakening; she and Sunny had turned the tables on him. They were hunting him, and his pelt would make a great addition to their collection.

She was worried Sunny might get too far away. Though they had discussed this maneuver quite often over the past month, Sunny could be reckless at times. It had nearly killed them twice, but she didn't seem to learn. This time, though, she stuck to the plan, much to Eile's relief. When the Kzin was preoccupied with trying to extract her from the cave, Eile picked up a large stone, stood up, and raised it over her head.

"Hey! Tuna-breath!" she shouted as she threw the stone at his head. The Kzin looked up moments before it hit him squarely in the face. It looked to her like he wore an 'Oh, shit' expression in that last second.

The rock knocked him backwards off his feet flat onto his back. She snatched up the sharpened stakes and threw herself off the boulders as Sunny crawled out of the tunnel. She tossed a stake to her partner and leapt on top of the Kzin's stomach as Sunny ran up to his head. Raising the stake, she drove it down into the neck, striking first at the throat, then the carotid artery. Eile targeted the liver. The heart was too well protected, beneath the ribcage and solid chest muscles, and above the tough diaphragm, but the liver was more vulnerable, and there were major arteries that ran around and through it. They stabbed at the Kzin's body with such force and single-minded purpose that they almost didn't hear the long, low, mournful tone of the sthondat-thigh horn. When it did register, they paused, panting, then looked at each other and broke out into wide, raucous grins.

"We did it!" Eile yelled.

"Wah-hoo!!!" Sunny cheered, waving her arms in the air and swinging her hips.

"Twenty-three hunts!" Eile added. They leapt at each other and slapped palms together, then pranced around the body, skipping and jumping as they laughed and shrieked for joy.

+++++     +++++     +++++

Graf Differel Van Helsing watched the two girls dance over their fallen opponent like wild savages, until Thagn-Riit shut off the viewscreen. She turned her chair to face the Kzin overlord of Wunderland. He was typical of his species: 2.35 meters tall, about 225 kilograms in weight, looking like an anthropomorphic bear with a tiger's head and wearing a tiger-skin suit. His massive barrel chest testified to his powerful musculature, but his prodigious strength was enhanced by Wunderland's low gravity. She knew from reading anatomical reports of dissected bodies of Kzinti killed by the resistance that they had flexible spines, giving them great agility, but she could clearly see the large fangs in his mouth when he talked, and his polished, black claws kept slipping in and out of his fingertips whenever he was agitated, such as that moment. He was sitting behind his desk, so she couldn't see his tail, but she always considered it comical that such dangerous aliens would have ludicrous naked, pink, rat tails.

Not that she would dare laugh to his face. He was supreme commander of the forces that had conquered Alpha Centauri fifty years ago, the equivalent of the rank of marshal in the old Wunderland armed forces, and while aging, he was still a deadly and formidable dictator. He was also the third son of the Patriarch, which gave him considerable power and authority. He had overseen four so-far disastrous attempts to conquer Earth and the Sol System, but he had learned from his mistakes and he was preparing a fifth fleet that was scheduled to depart soon. Considered opinion believed this one would succeed.

"It would seem they win again," she said, as she brushed one-half of her asymmetrical haircut out of her face.

"So it would appear," he replied. His command of English was superb, better than hers of the Hero's Tongue. His manner was also calm and controlled, a rarity for his species. "I will transfer the proceeds of our wager into your account within the hour."

"In gold."

He smiled. "Of course." For a Kzin, a smile was an implied threat, but Thagn had adopted several human expressions and gestures to make it easier for him to deal with them.

"Cheu'rut was hand-picked by you, was he not?"

"Yes." Then he shrugged, another adopted human gesture. "Apparently, I was misinformed of his skills."

"I wouldn't be too hard on him. As I understand it, it takes considerable discipline and fortitude for a Hero to confront a combat-trained female, and he was up against two at once."

Thagn took her jibe with good humor. It was a game they played: each tried to needle the other to provoke a response, though the overlord had the advantage, in that he could order her death if she cut too deep. Assuming he didn't just scream and leap at her over his desk.

"On the contrary," he countered, "he had slain a dozen manrretti during his career. He knew what he was in for."

"Hmph. I wasn't aware of that."

"It makes no difference. Despite his experience, caution, and foresight, when he saw one that close, he reverted to instinct and let himself get lured into a trap. The only mitigating factor is that those two monkey-girls fight in an unorthodox manner, using unconventional tactics."

"Speaking of which, correct me if I'm wrong, but according to the rules, the Girls don't actually have to kill, just not be killed, is that true?"

"Yes."

"Then, why do you suppose they do?"

Thagn shrugged again. He really was good at that. "I would expect no less of a manrret."

Differel smiled. For all his supposed sophistication, there were still gaps in Thagn's comprehension of humans. He accepted the killings as a natural consequence of the nature of the hunting game, whereas she knew the Girls could simply hide and still win. On top of which, they were not true manrretti. That was the Kzin term for women soldiers. Female Kzinti were sub-sapient, barely able to function outside of male's harem. It was disconcerting enough for a Kzin to find out human females were just as smart as the males, but to confront one capable of fighting was a Kzin's worst nightmare. Some Kzinti even thought they were separate species.

The point being, the Girls had no formal military training and were not even members of the resistance. So there had to be a reason they went on the offensive each time.

"You don't seem terribly upset that they take the hides of those they kill as trophies."

"Had they prevailed, their opponents would have taken their ears after eating them. I do not see a difference."

No, you wouldn't, Differel thought. Another blind spot. She knew there was no point to a contestant taking trophies when what they wanted was the prize money, so like their attacks the Girls had to have a reason for doing so.

"That makes twenty-three wins, correct?"

"Yes."

"And you pay the prize each time?"

"Of course. To not do so would be dishonorable."

That at least was one trait she could understand. Kzin honor was similar to that of the Wunderland aristocracy, or the ancient samurai of the Earth nation of Japan. A Kzin would willingly starve to death within easy reach of food, if his honor demanded it.

"Their accumulated wealth must be considerable by now."

"After today, it will be twenty-five million credits." The invasion had virtually destroyed the old economy and financial institutions; credit scrip issued by the conquerors was the only money available now, except for family heirlooms, gold, and gems used in barter. They were essentially promissory notes, but as with anything else, Kzin honor demanded that the notes be payable if hard currency was needed. Still, scrip could be used to buy anything; there were even moneychangers who would exchange it for gold or diamonds, at a discounted rate.

"And if they survive hunt number 24?"

"Fifty million, and an extra 200 million for the final match. Of course, they forfeit it all if they lose."

"Aren't you afraid they will quit while they're ahead?"

"That's always a possibility, but that's why I set up the reward system as I did."

She had to admit, that had been a stroke a genius. The Kzinti knew it was always possible for a human to survive a single hunt, or even two or three. However, the odds were on their side, and they increased as the number of hunts increased. The prize system was designed to keep a winning human coming back. The first few hunts paid little, but the more hunts a human won, the bigger the payoff became, and it increased exponentially. The Kzinti were counting on greed combined with hubris to kill any successful human in the end.

The only problem being, these Girls were defying the odds.

"They've won too much already to back out now," Thagn added.

"You hope. How long do they have to declare for the next match?"

"Until noon tomorrow."

"Please send me word if they do. And the same wager as before? Or would you like to double it?"

He managed a thin smile. "Very well, double it is."

"I suppose you are thinking of ways to defeat them."

"I have one or two ideas."

"Nothing dishonorable, I trust."

He grinned at her as he narrowed his eyes and laid his ears back. That was a threat, she had pushed him too far.

"I meant no disrespect," she said, closing her eyes and bowing her head. That left her vulnerable, giving him an opening to attack, but it was also a gesture of trust, in an attempt to mollify him. "I was merely being facetious."

"What does that mean?" he asked.

She looked at him and found him relaxed, his ears open and facing forward, and his eyes wide. For something that looked like an overgrown tiger cub, she found those round pupils disturbingly human, despite the yellow irises.

"It's a form of humor. One makes a statement that sounds serious, but is actually meant to be lighthearted and comical."

"Is it similar to mocking?"

Kzinti didn't like to be mocked, but they hated liars even more. "In a way, but whereas mocking is meant to be cruel, facetiousness is not. One can think of it as a shared joke between friends."

Thagn purred at her response. He didn't do it often, but each time it seemed to her he was amused with something she said.

"You consider us friends?"

Now she shrugged. "It could be seen that way. You and I can talk about things that would send most Kzinti into fits of rage." But even you have your limits, she thought.

"True enough. And to give you your due, it is tempting to cheat in the hunt with these two, but that would be counterproductive in the long run. Though we are permitted to, how do you put it, 'push the envelope'."

She nodded. "I understand. And speaking of playing fair, I always thought the prizes to be very generous, considering."

The overlord eyed her in manner she interpreted as sardonically amused. "Considering our reputation."

"The aristocracy understands, and appreciates, the restraint with which you govern." That was no flattery. Thagn was the epitome of the benevolent despot. Though he had issued harsh laws as part of the occupation, to maintain order and protect his troops and collaborators, he did not mount reprisals against attacks, he forbad looting and indiscriminant 'hunting', and his justice, if swift and summary, was fair.

"Too bad the general populace doesn't see it that way." He also permitted free expression and a free press, as long as everyone acted in a respectful manner. He was less concerned with anti-Kzin feelings and rhetoric than he was with armed insurrection.

"They will come around in time, especially after the resistance has disbanded. Your offer of amnesty should convince all but the fanatics, and they can be easily dealt with."

"I have not yet decided whether I will make such an offer."

"I understand, but it would be in keeping with your general policy, like the hunts. The Roman Empire had much the same policy."

"Bread and circuses."

"Naturally. Not only does it give the masses something to root for other than insurrection, it also distracts them from their woes. On top of which, it takes a negative — punishing criminals and terrorists, who are often viewed as freedom fighters — and makes it into a positive — giving people a chance to better themselves. The masses always love that sort of thing. Amnesty would reinforce that image: by offering mercy, you will convince the vast majority it would be better to cooperate than oppose you."

"I see the advantages you describe. What I do not see is how this will benefit you and the rest of your class."

"We just prefer peace."

"And the retention of your status and privileges."

She smiled. "Of course."

"Therein lies the problem. For now, collaboration is your best means to achieve that, but what if one day you decide that rebellion is better? General amnesty would mean that a hundred thousand fighters would be available for your use. That is a force even I would find difficult to deal with, barring drastic measures."

"With all due respect, I could turn that argument back on you. For now, you believe that preserving our way of life is the best way for you to rule us with a minimum of force, but what if one day you decide that putting us all on reservations is better? Or turning the entire planet into a hunting preserve, with us as the prey? Or even exterminating us altogether and restocking Wunderland with a more docile slave and food animal? We would of course fight back, but with your numerical and technological superiority you would eventually overwhelm us. Faced with that possibility, would it not be more prudent, if we are to die anyway, for us to fight you now, while we are still relatively strong, and delay the fifth invasion of Sol, or perhaps cripple your ability to ever launch another invasion again?"

"You make a good point, though I suspect that, whatever the circumstances, your class will find a way to be on top."

"In fact, Sir, my point was that, while we may cooperate to serve our own immediate selfish ends, doing so also benefits the long-term greater good of our two societies. That is why both of our worst-case scenarios are unlikely to occur, unless one side pushes the other into a corner. Our jobs, in part, are to see that doesn't happen."

"As usual, your reasoning and logic are impeccable, but there is the unspoken reality that our mutual cooperation is reinforced by certain checks and balances that prevent either of us from acting imprudently. I do not fail to see that preserving the strength of the resistance while holding it in abeyance strengthens your position. My concern is whether it weakens mine."

"I would argue that whatever strengthens me benefits you as well."

Thagn purred again; twice in one audience was unprecedented.

"Graf Van Helsing, you are my most loyal, powerful, and valuable collaborator. Your efforts and those of your family before you have allowed me to govern your colony with a minimum of bloodshed, and have insured peace and stability for your people as well as safety for mine. But I do not trust you, any more than I trust any collaborator. There is a whiff of dishonor that clings to you like a miasma. If you would so easily betray your own people, would you not betray me as well, under the right circumstances? You or someone else like you could be in league with the resistance. Therefore, prudence suggests that I should treat you cautiously, as I would any semi-tame ferocious animal."

He paused, as if waiting for a response. Differel decided it would be best to stay quiet.

"You do not object. If you were a Kzin, you would have challenged me by now, if you were innocent."

And if you were a member of the aristocracy, I would not have hesitated to do so, she thought. But she wanted to diffuse the situation, not escalate it.

"I could, but to what end? If you killed me, you would lose my power and influence, and governing would become more difficult. If I killed you, your replacement would probably not be as enlightened as you. Either way, we'd both lose more than we would gain."

"Once again, your logic is compelling, even if I find your monkey caution distasteful. But let me make one thing very clear. I have as yet no evidence that you are involved with the resistance. If you are not, you have nothing to fear, but if I ever discover that you are, despite our 'friendship', I will have you served as my evening meal. And I prefer live prey."

Differel gave him a cold half-smile. "Naturally."

He eyed her in a strange way. "I will confess, you puzzle me sometimes. You seem to have a Kzin's liver, yet you scheme like a monkey. It makes you an invaluable ally, but it would also make you a formidable opponent, the most terrifying manrret of all. Pity, though. I would enjoy fighting you, more than I enjoy our chess matches."

She chuckled. "I would feel the same way."

"The question is, are we combatants now, only I am unaware of it? Take these girls for example. I have to ask myself, what is your interest in them?"

"The same as anyone else's. They are two humans who, despite their weaknesses and disadvantages, have continually prevailed against the mighty Heroes Race. We humans love an underdog."

"I believe they are more than that. They have become heroes to the masses, members of the aristocracy lionize them, and even some Kzinti praise their courage and prowess."

"Underdogs often inspire the downtrodden with hope."

"But what if they were used as a rallying point for unrest? After a general amnesty, that would be a dangerous combination."

"I see what you're getting at, but if they don't survive either of the remaining two hunts, our problem is solved."

"What if they do?"

"Then perhaps we should look upon that as an opportunity."

"I do not understand."

"Sir, you once told me you have these conversations as much to help train you to think like a human. We have a knack for turning disadvantages into advantages. Let's suppose the Girls survive the last hunt. What if during the award ceremony they give a speech in support of you and the occupation? What if afterwards they call for cooperation and an end to violence? There might be some who feel betrayed, but most would listen to them. They could become powerful spokespersons for Man-Kzin rapprochement."

"Why would they agree to something like that?"

"They participated in the game for financial gain. If you offered them other incentives they would probably be receptive."

"What kind of incentives?"

"At the very least, a cash bonus, in gold. A small plot of land, perhaps trading privileges or a position of minor authority; we can work out the details later."

"But they killed Heroes."

"Your own people kill each other in duels and other forms of honorable combat. We aristocrats do much the same, so the masses would accept that with little hesitation. You haven't retaliated against the Girls for their killings, and that sets the precedence that you believe there are honorable ways humans could fight and kill Kzinti. If you institutionalized that, it would allow anyone who had a grudge against your people to oppose them without openly rebelling."

"If I permitted humans to challenge my people to duels, I would have to allow them to do the same."

"As long as they obey the rules you set up and act in an honorable fashion, I don't believe that would be a problem. Wunderlanders have a long tradition of settling quarrels with formalized personal combat, and we are hunters just as you are. If you allowed us to hunt you under the same controlled conditions you hunt us, that would go a long way towards welding our two species into one society. To that end, I could see the Girls being models demonstrating how humans could live like Kzinti. If they popularize it and you endorse it, within a generation we could be completely assimilated into your culture."

"What if they do not agree?"

"Then we will have to make sure they lose."

"Would that not make them martyrs?"

"Not if they lost fair and square. It would just be another example of your species' superiority."

"And how would we accomplish that?"

"'We' wouldn't; I would. Your hands must be clean of this, otherwise there could be a riot, perhaps even an uprising. As well, your honor must remain intact. And, if the treachery is discovered, you can blame it on us humans."

"Why would humans kill those girls?"

"You haven't realized this yet, but during any occupation there are always people who cooperate completely with the occupying authority, no matter how brutal or reprehensible it is. They serve out of self-interest, but they still serve loyally, if for not other reason than they would be killed if the occupiers are ever driven out. They could see the Girls as a threat to Kzin authority, by assaulting the concept of Kzin superiority. By killing the Girls and making it look like it was a natural result of the hunt, they remove the threat by confirming the concept."

"Hrmm. It would appear that monkey-scheming has its advantages. When would be the best time to implement such a plan?"

"During the final hunt; it would have the biggest impact then. Also, it would give me a month to prepare."

"And if they are killed during the next one?"

"Then as I said before, our problem is solved for us."

"Very well. I give you leave to proceed, but I must have final approval of any plans, and you cannot execute without my authorization. Understood?"

"Perfectly."

"Very well. I regret we cannot play chess today, I have a staff meeting in an hour, but I look forward to your visit next week."

She was being dismissed. Differel stood up and bowed. "It would be a pleasure, Sir."

"Oh, and one more thing. Please do not ever bring that abomination with you again."

"He is honor-bound to defend my life, I doubt I could dissuade him from following me on his own."

"Nonetheless, if he ever shows up here again, I will have him killed on the spot."

Differel bowed again. "I understand. I will see what I can do."

+++++     +++++     +++++

Thagn watched her leave his office. Yes, she was very clever, and it had benefited him well in the past, but the question in the back of mind as always was, what else did she have going on? How many plans within plans within plans did she have working at that moment? Despite almost constant surveillance and informants within her own household, he had nothing definite to go one, just gossip, speculation, and suspicion, most of it worthless because it was no doubt inspired by spite. Still, he could not let down his guard for one moment with her; it could prove fatal.

He switched on the viewscreen and watched the girls as they finished skinning Cheu'rut. Behind them a number of slaves waited to carry the carcass away, and they all looked rather pleased that it was another Hero. His claws extended by reflex and he gouged out eight parallel furrows in his desk as he raked his fingers along its top. This had to end, and soon, before it was too late. Even if she was playing a game of her own, Van Helsing's idea seemed perfect. He would just have to be watchful for whatever trap she would set for him.