2/8 day tomorrow run fast!!!!
4/8 day hunt catch man die
6/8 day hunt catch man die
8/8 day hunt end hunt man live
“Holy Mother Earth, he's telling us that tomorrow we're going to be on the wrong end of a kzin hunt!”
The young one paled.
The older one turned toward Trainer. “Jack, she's only fifteen!”
They understood! He could smell their sudden fear. They could read! Ah, males for sure.
CHAPTER 10
(2396 A.D.)
Trainer-of-Slaves took the game animals out into the darkness of the caverns before lights-on. This time they were far more receptive to his instructions about sneaking away, dodging, and hiding. It was fascinating to observe the sudden increase in their intelligence. Now he owned an essential fact: a motivation-prompt accelerated a man- beast's learning rate.
Interesting.
He compared this with what he knew about the Jotoki. A Jotok's intelligence depended upon a hormone that was triggered by body-size; they were all minuses during transition. You couldn't stop them learning! Then, at adulthood when the mass of their arm-brains stabilized, their ability to learn began to taper off rapidly. A mature Jotok could always retain what he had mastered during transition, but he learned new facts and new ways only slowly. Motivation was a minor variable.
He wondered if a motivator triggered some kind of intelligence hormone in a man-beast? A kzin who controlled such a hormone directly would have a useful tool. Perhaps that could be accomplished through a chemical bypass-block that shunted around the motivator. The slave-master could induce a rapid learning mode, teach a specialized behavior to his monkey, then turn off the monkey's ability to self-modify that behavior. A compulsive slave. No chains. No threats. Very economical.
As he watched them, Trainer-of-Slaves began to catalog in his mind the motivators he was observing. Certainly these beasts were able to modify their behavior rapidly when their lives were threatened.
But, of course, they were different, too. He doubted that they had a concept of honor.
Sometimes life was not valuable.
Trainer-of-Slaves was beginning to resent the hunt. These slaves were valuable alive. Study your enemy— who had said that? What was valuable in a pile of stripped and bloody bones?
When it was still dark he released the game at a multiple divide of caverns which Long-Reach called The Place of Many Ways. He felt sad. He needed at least ten more days to toughen them up, to learn enough of their language, to train them in the more subtle evasions.
“Long-Reach,” he said to his companion when the man-beasts had disappeared beyond hearing, “as my special hunter, I have a service for you to perform. Who knows these sprawling forests and caves and liquid ponds better than you?”
“Only the Fanged God,” replied Long-Reach in the formal ritual of their conversations.
“Your official function in this hunt is as my scout. I have specific orders.”
“I am five ears.”
“The monkeys won't last until twilight without help. You will scout for them, not for me. Appear to me from time to time, for the sake of appearances but scout for the beasts. Give them aid, but be careful never to tell me what you have done! I don't want to know.”
“As my master commands.”
At first-light the hunting party began to assemble under the primary dome of the Jotok Run. The thin banners of Kasrriss-As hung in brilliant color, carried by four kzin servitors who were experienced hunters in this Run.
Trainer-of-Slaves was without colors but he had been hastily outfitted in the light armor of the Kasrriss-As household. Three Jotoki in green and red striped livery remained respectfully on call but at a distance.
Chuut-Riit's party was less formal, but nevertheless elegant. He wore a pale peacock-green armor of a leather style that pre-dated spaceflight. He had decreed no weapons and no devices and carried none. He lead brought with him only Traat-Admiral and a young recruit, Hssin-Liaison, proud of his new cognomen.
Trainer-of-Slaves felt one moment of shock and then repressed, invisible rage. He stared straight ahead. How does my enemy do it?
This pest had the persistence of a fur-tick! Could he lead even Chuut-Riit around by the nose?
Hssin-Liaison, whatever he was called, was never subtle. He did not return disregard. In front of Chuut-Riit and without preamble he grinned at Trainer-of-Slaves. “You will not live out the day Coward-of-Cowards.”
“What is this?” inquired Chuut-Riit mildly.
“This Animal is unfit to carry the duties of a Conquest Hero.”
The ears of Chuut-Riit flicked in amusement. “I believe the tournament is settling such matters.”
“This cowardly Animal won't be found in any tournament ring. I challenge him here.”
“I see.” Chuut-Riit seemed aloof from the menace and anger. He turned to Trainer-of-Slaves matter-of-factly. “Hssin-Liaison has been using his contacts among the young warriors to enlist troops for my Fourth Fleet.” He lapsed into silence, waiting, perhaps curious that Trainer-of-Slaves had chosen to ignore the challenge.
“Voice of the Patriarch, my duty is to the execution of the hunt,” Trainer replied stiffly.
“Good.” Chuut-Riit only glanced toward his liaison underling, then addressed the others. He was obviously not willing to interfere in local squabbles about which he knew nothing. “I am here for a slow hunt no quick kill. We flush and pursue. We challenge and fall back. We play. We save the kill for twilight. Yes, I'm anticipating my first taste of human flesh, but I am far more interested in observing the response of the enemy under attack. No weapons. No devices. Those are the rules.”
Every other kzin at the meet added another rule silently. The harassing would be enjoyable, but the final kill must be given to Chuut-Riit alone.
The banners were staked into a circle. Noiselessly the hunters moved into the woods under the arching ceilings. Chuut-Riit loosened his leather armor and gave Trainer-of-Slaves one last noncommittal gaze. “So the hunter becomes the hunted.” Then he was gone.
Deeper into the trees a five-limbed beast dropped beside Trainer. “Hssin-Liaison threatened you with death.”
“He won't be able to find me. Only you know the Run better than I. He's good on rooftops. He's a city kzin.” Contempt. “I'm Mellow-Yellow, remember, who floats among the leaves like lamplight. I'll take him in circles.” But the plan wasn't to take him in circles; the plan was to lead Puller-of-Noses away from the man-beasts. It was the least he could do for them, to neutralize one of the hunters.
The man-beasts were trapped, and allowed to escape, twice before midday. Jotok-Tender's slaves brought in a simple lunch for the hunters, served on collapsible canvas tables. Chuut-Riit paced about their vale making intellectual pronouncements upon the evasive tactics of the day's game. 'Innovative,' he called them. He liked that. Hssin-Liaison managed to mix some leaves into Trainer-of-Slaves meat. Kasrriss-As spent his time ingratiating himself into Chuut-Riit's favor and discussing the textile trade with Traat-Admiral. He was the one who had stayed behind while the other warriors raided Alpha Centauri.
The canvas tables were folded and whisked away by the slaves. Chuut-Riit amiably resumed his tracking. However old his eyes, his nose was a marvel at spotting spoor, his mind superb at guessing the moves of his prey.
“We'll wound them this time, and watch how they handle that.”
