Our cavalcade set forth onto the veldt, as tall, flaxen grass shifted like waves upon a restive sea about us. Three all-terrain vehicles plowed steadily, their tires gouging long furrows into the dry, auburn soil. The engines kept a determined growl as we journeyed deeper into the wildest stretches of Thohadoun. At the rear of the party, one of our guides rode a lumbering elephant, its swaying gait and flapping ears a picturesque sight against the vast stretches of land and sky.

I sat between Gerald and Castor in the last vehicle, with Duke resting at my feet. Father, Grandfather, Mr. Tremaine, and Mr. Forsyth were in the first, with four of their business partners sharing the one in the middle. Malachai, as the leader of the staff, drove with Father, while two porters chauffeured the rest of us. A coterie of service robots strode alongside, carrying supplies and ammunition, their durable actuators humming.

We stopped alongside a steep ridge, and stepped out to survey the route. Malachai and Father scanned the expanse through high-powered binoculars, pointing toward a distant rise.

I joined everyone at the ledge.

Castor shaded his eyes with one palm against the sweltering daylight. "There's so many of them," he said, watching in awe.

The landscape opened to the horizon in a broad savannah, with a line of knobby bluffs rising in the distance. Great herds of animals moved in bands of patterned hides, their slender necks and spiraled horns nodding. Clouds of dust trailed from thousands of hooves.

The tame elephant trumpeted, and the bellowing of its wild kindred echoed in reply. Its handler calmed it, and it reached back with its trunk to take the offered treat.

"These creatures are restless," Malachai said. "A sure sign that Gash is near. We're tracking his location as twenty miles south-east, within the vicinity of the central watering area. It's one of his favorite places to prowl."

Father glanced at me. "Silas, do you want the live bounty, or a lovely skin and head for your trophy wall?"

I pondered both options. The Chimerae of Thohadoun were among the most sought-after of prizes. If we brought Gash in alive, my name would be mentioned among every sporting circle in society. Fame, a generous purse, and acceptance into the Hall of Records of the most challenging preserve in the known worlds would be mine. I couldn't resist the temptation.

"Let's trap him," I said.

Father chuckled. "I knew you'd want the glory. If we're fortunate, we'll have the mighty predator before dusk."

As we returned to the vehicles, Father's wristcom hailed with an urgent, ascending tone. I recognized the astute woman who appeared on hologram as Miss Kohler, his executive assistant. Her grim demeanor caught my attention, as she'd only call in an emergency.

"I apologize for the intrusion, Mr. Blane," she said. "But I must inform you of alarming news."

Father's brow furrowed. "Proceed."

"The Drillers Union refused the final offer. The strike began thirty standard minutes ago. All freighters and transports are indefinitely suspended as we speak."

"Damn the Lovejoys," Father said, pacing. "If they'd honored the trade commission's final proposal, this wouldn't be necessary."

This strike brought great loss and inconvenience for Blane Industries. The trade commission oversaw all off-world enterprise, and was the official mediator between employers and laborers. Lovejoy-Prynne's corporation was a larger mining company than ours, and they notoriously absorbed much of our competition. Many of these smaller businesses were owned by the miners themselves, as shareholders.

The Lovejoys had a reputation of ignoring the fair stipulations of mergers, and of turning their backs on their disgruntled workers. For these indecencies, Grandfather and Father had always spurned Lovejoy-Prynne as our greatest rival in the field. Now the enmity had disintegrated into a massive strike across the solar system. If one company's teams picketed, the unions all rallied to support them. Consequently, Blane Industries was caught in the middle of a maelstrom it had neither instigated, nor condoned.

I walked to Father's side. "I overheard the news. How may I help?"

Father shook his head. "Don't worry yourself over it now. It's your birthday. Let's enjoy ourselves, while we can."

"But, Father. This is most urgent. I don't mind if we must call the trip off."

His hand was emphatic at my back. "No. Let's get moving."

We resumed our drive down the slope, skirting the droves of wildlife. The animals snorted and stomped, prancing away. Myriad varieties of antelope, zebra, elephants, and giraffes mingled in a nervous press.

I shared their apprehension, unable to rid the mining protest from my mind. Almost instinctively, I reached for the handle of the strange Pruessian knife attached to my belt. The bone warmed at my touch, bringing an unexpected sense of comfort.

Mother had given me something I liked for once. Perhaps she did want to bridge the chasm between us, and find a new understanding.

Soon, we halted beside the river, where part of the ridge dropped abruptly to the wide, sluggish water. The two porters and the robots unloaded, erecting a trio of canvas tents, and a broad canopy to shade us.

"We'll need fresh bait," Malachai said. "If you wish, now can be the time for your first kill, young sir."

I fetched a high-powered rifle from a nearby rack, loaded fresh cartridges, and hung it over my shoulder. "Lead the way," I said.

Father, Grandfather, and their partners were in deep conversation beside one of the vehicles. I assumed they discussed the strike, from the dour look on their faces.

Castor and Duke chased each other about the site, laughing and barking in unison.

I'd brought Duke along for companionship, as well as training. However, I wanted to keep him at heel during this excursion. He'd never worked among such large game, and the risk of injury was too great. Castor would keep him occupied for the time needed.

Gerald came to my side. "I'll head out with you," he said, procuring his own rifle.

I grinned. "Wonderful. Let's show them what we can do. Malachai, has my father been informed that we're going out?"

Malachai nodded. "He's aware. May I suggest taking the elephant, Mr. Blane?"

"Certainly. I want to do this the right way," I said. "I want to get close."

We smothered ourselves with scent eliminators, then climbed up behind the elephant's handler. He was a quiet, older man, with a hand-rolled cigarette in one fist and a riding crop in the other. Offering a coarse handshake, he introduced himself as Ulwazi.

We trekked a short distance upriver. Malachai and two of the robots walked alongside.

Just ahead, we heard the grunted lowing of many water buffalo.

Malachai raised a hand, and we halted a moment. "We should search for another target," he said. "The buffalo are agitated, and may stampede."

Gerald scowled. "I thought the standard game here was engineered to avoid such aggression."

"With Gash fairly near, instinct may overcome their design," Malachai said. "Their terror in the proximity of the Chimerae is all-consuming."

I agreed with Malachai's sound advice, and we bypassed the first herd, meandering along the water's edge a little further.

Curious as to the statistics and types of creatures near, I activated the display and global tracking system integrated into my glasses. I zoomed in to a square mile, and soon the satellite image showed the blinking icons marking our own location, and the fleeting movement of all viable prey in the vicinity.

We'd been away from camp for about half an hour when Malachai's radio sputtered. The man's voice on the other end was rough, but his words were unmistakable.

"All the brave men."

I was startled, recognizing the phrase as that which Mother's bird had spoken earlier. "Wait a moment," I said. "What did he just say?"

Malachai threw Ulwazi a nervous glance, and spoke in his native language.

The answer came, after a few tense minutes of silence, "All the mighty horses."

Malachai readied his rifle, and looked about frantically. "Those fools are attempting it, Ulwazi. Get the children out of here."

Ulwazi urged the elephant to a lope, toward a copse of trees sheltered with overgrown grass.

"What's happening?" I asked.

"An ambush," Ulwazi said. "Be still." He pulled his pistol, and the elephant tossed its great head.

Gerald and I exchanged an anxious glance.

We watched through the foliage as Malachai dropped to one knee on the shore. The robots handed him a strange device, mounted on a metal stake. He plunged it into the ground, and quickly unravelled a small, box-like unit, with a transmitter attached to one side.

"What's he doing?" Gerald whispered.

Ulwazi looked at us over his shoulder. "It's a caller for the Chimerae. He's giving us a chance to escape."

"A caller?" Gerald's voice rose perilously. "He's summoning the monsters here?"

"Hush, we must wait for the right moment," Ulwazi said.

I wanted to ask how summoning the Chimerae would help, but kept silent as ordered. I slid the rifle from my shoulder. A sudden flash appeared on my display. Several approaching figures, registering as animals, moved in a deliberate circle around Malachai. They remained just out of sight.

Malachai strung a series of coiled wires to the caller. Then he stood, brandishing his rifle.

"I know you're there," he shouted. "Show yourselves, cowards."

A moment later, the sound of hooves over damp earth matched my heart's pounding. Four men on horseback cantered into view. All were dressed in loose work clothing, except for one. This fellow stood out, as his mount pranced forward skittishly. He was surely the leader, wearing an expensively tailored hunting ensemble, the rich blue and crisp white a screaming contrast to the plain tan and gray of his companions' attire. All wore broad, native style hats, pulled low over their faces.

Malachai put his rifle down, and his hands up, as he was surrounded with enemy guns. The two robots beeped, and looked about in uncertainty.

"Where are the two little rich boys?" the leader demanded. His voice sounded oddly familiar, though I couldn't make out his features.

Malachai threw his shoulders back. "Gone hunting."

"Don't waste my time. They were just here with you." The man aimed his pistol directly into Malachai's face.

"Why are you doing this?" Malachai asked. "This is not a gentleman's way to get a point across."

The men on horseback laughed.

"I never claimed to be a gentleman," the leader said. "And neither has the man in charge. Give me the Blane and Forsyth boys. You have until the count of three."

As the count ascended, an unusual icon flashed across my display screen.

"Something large is in the water," I whispered.

Malachai laughed as a long, pointed snout emerged from the murky brown river.

"Shut up," the leader said, cocking his pistol. "Time's out for you." His hat fell back, and I saw his face.

Dread and confusion chilled me, as I recognized him--Mr. Whitlock, my valet.

None of the ambushers saw Moordnar coming. The shovel-shaped gray head appeared first, then its short, bowed forelimbs, as it paddled to shore. It raised itself onto its hind legs, bear-like, at least fifteen feet tall. The impossibly wide mouth gaped, and it roared at the bewildered group of men before it.

Horses and humans alike cried out in panic.

Malachai took advantage of the distraction, seized Mr. Whitlock by one leg, and pulled the valet off his horse.

Mr. Whitlock fell to the ground with a shout.

Malachai leaped onto the horse's back, and spurred it to a frenzied run, heading downriver.

Moordnar fell to all four legs, splayed like a crocodile, yet firm and muscled like a bear. Its long, thick tail whipped as it lurched onto land.

Desperate, Mr. Whitlock tried to scramble to his feet. His comrades abandoned him, and galloped into the nearby brush.

Moordnar shambled toward the caller device first, and paused next to it.

Mr. Whitlock gained a fair distance, fleeing as Moordnar chomped the caller down in one flailing gulp.

Another beep came from my display, and another odd icon appeared, indicating a new arrival to the scene.

A sleek, tawny shape sprang from a nearby rock, and Gash clamped his jaws around Moordnar's scaly neck. Both Chimerae snarled, and tangled in deadly struggle.

Ulwazi steadied the elephant. "Hold on," he said.

Gerald tightened his arms around me, and I wrapped my own around Ulwazi.

Our elephant dashed out of the trees.

The Chimerae writhed in blood and ferocity upon the bank. Moordnar pinned Gash in its toothy jaws, while the great cat lashed and raked at its foe's broad, ugly face. One of Gash's talons raked Moordnar's eye, and the leviathan relented. Gash cowered, growling. They circled each other warily.

The elephant danced a wide berth around them, but trumpeted as we passed, drawing the Chimerae's attention.

Ulwazi swore, and applied the crop to the elephant's shoulders, demanding it to move. The elephant's trunk raised like a battle standard, and we raced in the direction Malachai had taken.

I watched over my shoulder as we escaped. Moordnar slithered back to his watery haven. However, Gash's leering green eyes fixated on us, and he disappeared into the trees.

Once Ulwazi felt we were safe, he stopped the elephant next to a cleft in the ridge.

"My wristcom isn't working," Gerald said.

Mine wasn't either, though my optical display still functioned at full capacity.

"The renegades are near," Ulwazi said. "My radio's dead. The thugs must have shut down all terminals in this zone."

"I still have satellite connection," I said, thankful for the elite network I had access to through Blane Industries. "Tell me, who are these men, and what do they want?"

"They're extremists, who want to use you as hostages. They hope to goad the trade commission into complying with the resistant mining companies, like Lovejoy-Prynne."

I gulped. "One of them was my valet."

"Surely the worst kind of traitor is one closest to you," Ulwazi said, grinning. "Be wary of those who are most sincere."

"How did you and Malachai know about this?" Gerald asked.

"We had suspicions that it was afoot, but no proof as to who was involved, or if they meant to carry through with their plans."

I was bewildered, but accepted the explanation.

As we drew near to camp, I noticed a chaotic array of icons surrounding it.

"Something's wrong," I said. "It appears they've already seized our base."

Gerald tightened his grip around his rifle. "Those bastards have taken our fathers captive. We can't let them get away with this."

"Agreed," I said. "We must find a way to stop them."

A sharp whistle drew our attention toward a nearby cluster of rocks. Malachai was there, beckoning to us. He quieted his agitated horse as we joined him.

"I warned the boss to screen all of our porters on this excursion," Malachai said. "Those two have turned against us."

Ulwazi spat. "It figures. Scoundrels will do anything if they're paid enough."

"Precisely," said Malachai. "And they'll be looking for us, once they realize the Chimerae have retreated. I've tried to call headquarters, but there's no signal."

"They've cut our network off for certain," Ulwazi said. "For all we know, the boss himself may be involved with this heist. We should seek cover, and devise a plan of action."

They took us to a grotto at the top of the ledge, and insisted that Gerald and I stay on the elephant for safety.

I was restless and frustrated, wanting to get closer to camp, to be sure Father was unharmed. If I could just get in range, the auditory enhancements on my eyewear would allow me to listen in. I didn't want to leave the display on long, as battery power was limited.

After a long while of sitting astride the elephant, my back hurt.

Malachai and Ulwazi discussed various options among themselves.

Gerald cleared his throat. "Pardon me, but I need to piss. May I please be let down a moment?'

"I have to go, too," I said, eager to stand on my own feet again.

With some hesitation, Ulwazi commanded the elephant to lower itself.

Gerald and I dismounted.

My legs felt as if they were stuck to the ground, after riding for so long.

While Gerald hurried to a nearby tree, I stretched my aching limbs. Then I sauntered toward the stony wall of the ridge, unbuttoned my breeches, and sighed at the welcome relief.

Just as I finished, another blip on the tracker drew my attention. I hastily refastened my clothing, grabbed my rifle, and ran back to the others.

"Something's over there," I said, pointing to an area concealed behind the ridge.

Everyone aimed their guns, watching intently.

A familiar figure trotted around the corner.

"Duke!" I dropped my rifle, and knelt before him.

He placed his paws on my shoulders, and slathered my face with his tongue.

"That dog may have been followed," Malachai said. "Get the boys back onto--"

Before he could finish his statement, the elephant and the horse startled.

Duke whirled around, his tail low, hackles raised.

My tracker was dangerously low on power. I realized it a little too late, as the delayed icon appeared on my view screen. There was no mistaking the genetic ID it registered.

"Gash is near," I said.

"Hurry," Ulwazi said, assisting Gerald to climb onto the elephant.

Malachai mounted his horse, his dark eyes wide with trepidation.

Duke's growl was a long, foreboding sound. I curled my trembling fingers around his collar. "Come on, boy."

"Leave the dog, Mr. Blane," Malachai said.

I whirled to him, indignant. "No." I tugged again. "Duke. Heel."

Leaving no time for reaction, Gash charged into the clearing.

Time seemed to slow around me.

I heard the others shout, but they sounded distant.

Gerald called my name, urging me to move so they could shoot.

My blood pounded in my ears, as I found myself face to face with my prey at last.

Gash vaguely resembled a lion, but with a long, thin body and legs that were more like a swift cheetah. His eyes were like hypnotic, glassy emeralds, the pupils perfect black circles as he stared into mine.

Duke barked savagely, and refused to budge. He stood between me and this engineered killer.

I aimed my rifle.

The world condensed. I saw only the cat's sharp fangs, its haunches bunched.

The force of several hundred pounds of solid flesh forced me to the ground, my weapon knocked aside.

I heard gunfire, screams both animal and human, Gash's furious wails and hissing. Claws as long as my hand cleaved my skin, and those fatal teeth hooked into my right shoulder and neck.

Duke intervened, leaping onto the enraged cat.

Terror surged as Gash released me, and lunged instead for Duke.

My breath was hot, splintered agony through my throat. Couldn't speak, couldn't see. I only heard an ominous snap, and Duke's whine cut short.

Then, it faded to nothing.