Mother Nature's Wrath

The supposed deity, Mother Nature, was always present on the backwater planet. The bitter cold wind, stinging Bosch's face and ruffling his fur, was a constant reminder of her wrath. At least the sun was shining as he trudged through the deep snow.

"Machu's hungry." Shelly, his small human mate, lagged behind him. The snow was knee deep for her, but she struggled through without complaint.

He did not speak her language, but the translator implanted in his ear understood most human words.

"Soon." In the distance, he still saw the human structure they had escaped. He had killed the humans, but now they were in a race against time. Rescue was waiting for him two days away, weather permitting. He would be assumed dead if he did not appear in that time.

The pup in question, Machu, huffed and circled his bearer on all fours, impatient for his meal. Still light enough to remain on top the snow, the pup kept up better than Shelly.

Machu took after him in appearance, as was natural when his race bred with aliens. His pup was a healthy powder blue, with a thick white pelt from head to feet. His snout was a bit short, but it had time to grow on a two month old pup.

The only discernible difference was the pup's dark colored eyes. If he had inherited Bosch's pale blue coloring, Machu could have passed as a full blood Gorg.

"Machu, walk with me." He held out his paw.

Eager for attention, the pup bounded to his side and stood upright. Slipping his tiny paw in Bosch's, they walked together.

"Is Cassa hungry yet?"

He adjusted the bundle of furs cradled in his other arm. The smaller pup still slept. "No."

Both pups were litter mates, but Cassa appeared to be more human than Gorg. Her large head carried all human features, even the dark eyes and strange peach flesh. It was rare for another species to genetically dominate his kind, but he could not recall the last time anyone crossbred in the wild.

His smaller pup had been born with a thin pelt of yellow fur, like her bearer's hair. Unfortunately, the pup's fur fell out within days. A few chunks remained on her head.

He assumed Cassa was developing on a human timescale. She could not yet sit up on her own and depended exclusively on her bearer's milk. He worried that mixed genetics, outside a lab, may be slowing her development. Crossbreeding without genetic boosters was archaic, but offspring had not been an intentional result.

Having no human words to question his mate, he was left to wonder about his female pup. Shelly did not seem concerned about the matter, and that was a small comfort.

They trudged on until Cassa stirred, giving a testing cry.

Rumbling a purr to soothe the fussing pup, he released Machu's paw and waited for Shelly to catch up.

Machu scampered in the snow to his bearer, huffing and chattering half syllables.

His mate smiled at the excited pup, then panted, her flat face pink and tinged blue. Her movements were slow and difficult for her frail alien body. Reaching his side, she stumbled.

He held her upright to make the last step, then set the supply pack on the frozen ground.

Panting puffs of white breath, she sank down on the pack. She did not complain, but held her arms up in a silent request.

Passing the fussing pup to her, he wanted to encourage his mate. No human words came to mind. "Emus."

Offering him only a nod, she settled into the feeding routine, coddling Cassa.

Machu rumbled and emitted a thready growl, forcibly crawling into Shelly's lap.

Bosch rescued his mate, scooping up the impatient pup and bouncing him in his arms. "Meat first, then milk," he reminded Machu.

Retrieving a food ration, he bit off a chunk of jerky and chewed slowly.

Settled in his lap, Machu watched with large brown eyes. The stare was made eerie by the unnatural color inherited from Shelly. Licking his muzzle, the pup rumbled and wiggled with anticipation.

Bosch offered the chewed meat to the pup. The supplement wasn't as nutritional as his mate's milk, but it was necessary. Shelly could not create enough milk for two pups, and Cassa was not ready for meats.

His pup gobbled the chewed jerky, nearly choking in his haste. He coughed, then swallowed.

"Make the pieces smaller for him." Shelly watched with half lidded eyes, feeding their smaller pup beneath the blankets.

Grunting an acknowledgment, he rubbed Machu's back. He repeated the feeding process until Cassa finished suckling and they traded pups.

When both pups were fed, he shared a ration with Shelly, letting her slump against his side. She dozed and he allowed her a few more minutes of rest. It was only midday, but his human struggled with Mother Nature's formidable cold wind and deep snow.

#

A deep ache seeped into Bosch's bones and his pace lagged. He was ready to sleep, even knowing they were late. Tomorrow's early start and late day would recoup the time lost. If not, they would be abandoned and perish in the wilderness.

The sun was sinking low in the sky, but Bosch knew where to find shelter. They would reach the cave just after sunset and rest for the night.

Arms burning, from carrying Shelly and Cassa for the last hour, his strength waned. The snow had grown too deep for his mate to manage.

Thankfully the sun had shined for most of the day, allowing Machu to walk beside him. Bosch could not carry any more weight.

"I can walk here, it's not so deep."

Grateful, he grunted and set her on her feet. The short respite was welcome. The snow, a cold wet slush, stung his paws from the prolonged walk. He expected to carry her again soon because, unlike a Gorg, human paws had no natural insulation.

"Machu, come here, baby," she called, beckoning the pup closer.

The pup was tired and grumpy, no longer amused with the snow or the distant trees. Huffing, he reached up and let Shelly carry him. Wrapping arms and legs around his bearer, the pup rumbled.

Shelly hid all but their faces, bundling the blankets again.

He listened to his mate murmur soothing nonsense to their pup. Walking a few paces ahead of him, her steps were quick and steady, crunching snow beneath her feet. Perhaps luck was with him and they might recoup the time.

"Bosch." Her voice was sharp and she halted mid step, body rigid. She was afraid.

He paused, searching the horizon for humans, but saw only barren wilderness. "Shelly?" He moved closer.

"Don't!" She held her hand out to stop him, dropping her outer fur.

He hesitated, hearing a thick cracking beneath his paws. Alarmed, his heart dropped into his stomach and he took several steps back.

Shelly trembled, carefully setting Machu away from her.

The pup reached for her, whining and huffing.

"Come back." Human words escaped him when he most needed them.

Her expression pinched with worry. "We're standing on a lake, Bosch. The ice is too thin. Do you understand?" Her words were soft and slow. His mate stood frozen with terror.

He had realized that already. "Machu, come."

The pup scampered to him at the command, and he stretched his arms in a demand to be held.

Bosch handed him Cassa instead. "Keep your sister warm. Do not move from this spot."

Machu blinked his unnatural eyes at him, his little paws tightening around his swaddled sister. Confused and frightened, the pup emitted a high pitched whine.

There was no time to comfort the pup. Bosch rumbled a purr for his mate. "Come, Shelly." He beckoned her closer, hoping she understood his meaning.

She shook her head, searching the ankle deep slush with her eyes. "I already cracked the ice there."

She was not frozen with fear, but trapped on the thin ice.

He had underestimated his mate. Shedding his pack, he searched for the rope he brought.

"I think I can go left. It looks thicker there," she said.

"No."

The human ignored him, testing the creaking ice with her weight.

"No," he shouted, abandoning the pack.

With a loud snap from the ice, she jerked to a halt. Terror widening her eyes, she dropped through the ice with a high pitched cry and a splash.

Machu cried out behind him, but he ignored it. The pup was safe enough.

Bosch took a step in her direction, but came up short. He was four times her weight and the ice could not hold him. With a thrill of panic in his veins, he laid on his belly and slid closer.

Shelly took the span of three rapid heartbeats to breach the surface. She shrieked and gasped air, arms flailing and splashing water. Latching onto the ice, she secured her head above water. Soaked in lethal ice water, she faced him with terrified brown eyes.

Crawling closer, the ice creaked and snapped beneath him, halting his progression.

"Don't, Bosch." Her voice was hoarse and cut out. She clawed at the ice, trying to pull herself from the water as shivers wracked her body. She sank back into the water, defeated.

He reached, but laid too far away. Scrambling back to his supplies, he found the rope. Hands shaking with his fearful rush, he made a loop from one end. Holding the other end, he tossed the loop to his mate.

The wind caught the light weight lifeline and flung it back in his direction, several feet short of his mate.

He threw the rope twice more before realizing the futility of the effort. Mother Nature fought him, but he could not watch his mate die. Torn, he made a terrible decision.

He took Cassa from Machu and handed the pup the looped rope. "Take this to mama."

The pup whined, paw trembling as he took the loop. He scampered toward his bearer with the lifeline.

"Slow," Bosch insisted.

The pup slowed down, a little.

"No, Machu, no. Go back." She heaved herself up, trying to get out of the water. Too many soaked layers weighed her down and she sank beneath the water again. She resurfaced, sputtering and gasping.

Machu halted midway, looking over his shoulder. Anxiety tightening his round face, the pup rumbled for guidance.

"Go to mama. Give her the rope." He grunted at the pup, using all the paternal authority he could muster while terrified. The pup could survive the cold, but he had not yet learned to swim.

Cautious, the pup continued toward his bearer.

"He's a baby, Bosch," she cried, shaking and bobbing in the water.

Bosch could not do as she demanded and watch her die.

Machu approached the edge, peering at the icy water with worry. He offered the loop to his bearer.

Shelly took the rope. "Hurry back to daddy." She nudged the pup with a wet hand, sinking lower in the water.

Stomping his feet, a sign of an impending tantrum, Machu reached for his bearer with a testing cry.

"Machu," Bosch called.

The pup scampered back to him.

Holding the rope, Bosch pat Machu briefly, waiting for his mate. "Good job helping mama."

Chest puffed out, the pup was rightfully proud of his errand.

His mate had pulled the loop over her head and under her arms.

Bosch tightened the slack and gave her a nod. He pulled the rope, bringing her onto the ice. He dragged her several feet, until she was safe.

Machu hurried beside him, reaching and fussing in the commotion. Cassa cried, swaddled in one arm. He handed the pup back to her litter mate.

Yanking and ripping the drenched layers of clothing, he stripped Shelly naked. He rubbed her shivering body dry quickly. Bundling her against his chest, he wrapped her in the last dry blankets.

His mate cried out and whimpered in pain, her body warming.

He rubbed her vigorously, hoping to warm her faster.

Machu rumbled and purred, pressing close. He pat his bearer, mimicking the comfort Shelly provided whenever the pup cried.

"Hold your sister," Bosch reminded the pup gently, spying Cassa bundled on the snow beside him.

The pup hurried to comply, lifting and then patting his sister as she cried too.

"Don't you ever-" Her words stuttered, interrupted and punctuated with gasps and violent shudders. "Machu could have been hurt."

Nuzzling her ice cold face, he hushed her. "Rest."

He knew endangering his pup had been wrong, but Machu had a higher survival chance than his mate. Bosch could retrieve a drowning pup, but he had to stay dry to warm Shelly. Guilt was not a luxury he could afford.

"Hypothermia?" Shelly's word was near garbled, but his translator picked it up anyway.

He nodded and grunted, sharing her concern. Holding his mate secure with one arm, he shoved his pack in order with the other.

Machu held up Cassa for him.

Frazzled, he only had two arms. He needed both to carry Shelly while running. Bosch laid the bundled pup on her bearer's chest, unable to do anything else with her. Shelly didn't have the strength to hold the pup, but the laws of physics were secure enough for the emergency.

There was no room for a second pup. Machu was much too big.

Bosch shouldered his pack and scooped up Machu. He nuzzled the pup for a moment, grateful his offspring was unharmed.

"Up you go," he said, placing the pup on his shoulder.

The pup stood on the pack and twined his paws around Bosch's neck. He peered down at his bearer, rumbling with worry.

"Hold tight," he instructed.

The pup pressed his face in Bosch's neck and tightened his grip.

"He'll fall." She shivered, stuttering her words.

"No." He wished he knew her language. He wanted to explain and reassure her that their pup was capable of holding on. If the pup did fall, the snow was cushion enough.

Bosch ran on two legs, clutching his mate to his broad chest, disturbed by her silence and cool flesh.

He did not stop to rest, not even for Cassa's hungry wails carried away by the wind. The sun sank beneath the horizon and dark clouds loomed overhead. A storm was the last disaster he needed.

Muscles stinging and lungs burning, he made it to the cave entrance. Relief was short lived. The cave was not enough to warm his mate.

Hurrying inside, he set his mate and Cassa on the ground. Hoarse cries for food echoed in the dark cave, but he could only sit and catch his breath.

Machu climbed off his back and darted to his bearer's side. He pat her face, purring.

Shelly blinked. The corners of her blue mouth tipped up. "Cold hands."

He checked over both his pups, his hands weak and trembling with fatigue. Machu was chilled from the wind, but Cassa was still warm.

Laying on the bitter cold ground, Bosch pulled his mate and pups onto his chest. He layered the rest of the blankets on top of them.

"Bosch." She squirmed weakly. "Fire."

He would give anything to make her a fire. "Rest." He rubbed her with his large paws.

"Fire."

"Emus." He purred a lullaby to ease her and the pups.

Machu joined in, adding his rasping baby rumble.

"Fire in your pack." She shook with a violence, struggling, or perhaps simply shivering.

He grunted, confused. Did extreme cold make humans delirious?

"Machu, lighter. Get the lighter." Her words were barely discernible.

His translator did not know what a lighter was.

The pup perked up at the assigned task, rumbling. He jumped to the ground and dug through his pack.

"Lighter?" Bosch repeated the word several times, trying to get it right, looking for an explanation.

"Fire."

The lighter was fire.

Bosch reached for the pack, but Machu was already returning. He waved his prize before Bosch's face, then scaled his way back to his bearer. Puffing with pride, the pup presented a small green object.

Shelly picked up the human item but trembled, dropping it onto his chest.

Machu snatched the lighter and presented the human object again.

Bosch took the strange green item, examining it. It was full of liquid and had a button on the top. He pressed the button but nothing happened. "Shelly?"

"Spark then press."

He fiddled with the lighter, reasoning out how the operating mechanism worked. He could not get the human device to create fire. It sparked, once. His paws were too big and his mate was too cold for complex motor functions.

Machu watched closely, enthralled with the potential toy.

Still with no fire, Bosch grunted to his pup. He showed Machu how to use the lighter the best he could, and handed it to the pup.

Excited, Machu huffed, bouncing on his chest with the lighter.

"Fire, Machu," Bosch reminded.

The pup nodded, garbling half syllables at him. He held the lighter out for Bosch to see. Using both hands, the pup fiddled with the top, sparking the lighter several times.

A bright flame appeared and died as quickly.

Machu gave a proud baby roar, his voice cracking and squeaking.

Bosch rumbled a soft encouragement.

"Good job. Do it again, baby," his mate said weakly. She smiled with blue tinged lips.

The pup repeated the sparks several times.

Leaving his family on the cold ground, Bosch hurried to gather wood.

He met a wall of white snowfall and the harsh sting of strong winds. Stunned, his knees weakened and he dropped to the stone ground.

Fire mattered little if there was nothing dry to burn. Mind stuttering in search of a solution, he stared out at the heavy storm.

Bosch had never believed spiritual nonsense, having seen hundreds of planets with hundreds more sentient races. He had seen civilizations rise and then fall. Even stars were born and died. Not once had he ever seen a true deity.

He certainly hadn't expected the backwater p-114 to make him doubt his stance.

The deity humans called Mother Nature was angry with him. There was no other explanation for the unlikely sequence of events that plagued him on this planet.

First, his spaceship had crashed from a freak lightning storm. That wasn't supposed to happen, but lightning had managed to find an unknown weakness in his hull's plating. Everything was fried, including his paying passenger, who happened to be touching the comm at the time.

Worse, upon crash landing, lightning struck a tree. The tree caught fire and fell on his ship, blocking his exit. His 7000 point safety inspected, fire proofed, ship went up in a blaze like kindling. Wrapped in a blanket, he had jumped through the fire. Then he rolled on the ground, putting out his singed fur. That had, thankfully, grown back.

Once he was safe, and without any supplies, fat water droplets poured from the sky. The fire was doused and his fur was soaked.

He wandered for hours, searching for shelter on the primitive planet. When he thought his fortunes had returned, his supposed shelter contained humans. Armed humans. They mistook him for a Yeti, one of Mother Nature's mythical creatures of legend. Imprisoned by the bizarre men for two seasons, he acquired a mate, two pups, and a severe dislike of humans.

Pondering the unlikely events of acquiring a human mate shamed him. He sulked in despair, cursing a false deity, while his mate was freezing and his pups went hungry.

He returned inside the cave. Emptying his pack, he set aside bare necessities. The pack itself was disposable. It was damp, but not completely wet. He set it in a second pile, along with anything else flammable.

He surveyed his freezing mate and young pups before committing to destroying supplies. They could not finish the journey. They were not made to withstand the harsh elements.

"Come, give us fire, Machu." Bosch beckoned him closer.

The pup padded on all fours and beamed up at him.

"Show me your fire," he said, rubbing the pup's back.

The pup sparked, then lit, the lighter several more times.

Bosch held a scrap of cloth above the lighter and waited patiently to catch the flame.

Fire quickly engulfed the scrap, forcing Bosch to drop it on the ground. Still burning, he jerked the damp pack closer. The fire spread, consuming the entire pack.

Intending to pat his pup for the good work, he turned to find him gone. The lighter was abandoned on the ground.

The pup had retreated beside his bearer, watching with wide, frightened eyes. His snout gaped open, exposing toothless gums and a pink tongue.

Shelly's chest shook and she made a croaking sound of amusement. "You did well. It's okay." Clumsy and shaking, she pat the pup. "You've been a good boy all day, helping mama and daddy."

Machu huffed and rumbled, puffing his chest at the compliments. His round eyes returned to the flaming pack, riveted.

Bosch shook his head, amusement and paternal pride easing his tension. Exhaustion weighed down his limbs.

The pup clung to his bearer and rambled on with incoherent pup words.

Cautious with the fire, which created too much smoke, Bosch brought his family closer.

Eyes glazed over, Machu stared, enthralled and frightened by the orange flames. The pup pressed back against Shelly for support.

His mate held out her hands and feet to the fire, wincing and shivering. Soon there was little left to burn, but it had been enough. They tended to their hungry pups in silence.

She settled down for sleep, laying Cassa on her chest and letting Machu curl against her side. She beckoned to him.

Exhausted, Bosch curled around his mate's small frame to provide warmth. He let the fire die out and resigned himself to taking short naps.

He left his mate and pups to check on the storm several times, until the weather settled. Moderate snow allowed enough visibility to continue the journey.

Waking Shelly, he rumbled and nuzzled her face with his muzzle. There were no words to explain where he was going or when he'd return.

"Stay, Shelly," he said in her language. He tapped his chest and pointed to the entrance.

"You're leaving?" Her brows knit together and then she yawned.

He nodded.

"We should go with you." She closed a protective arm around Machu, who snored softly beside her.

He shook his head. "Stay. Soon." Struggling to find something reassuring to say, he added, "soon safe."

"I don't understand." Worry pinched her expression. "Where are you going?"

"To get help." He didn't know those words in her language.

"What does that mean?"

"Soon." He nuzzled her again, and then each of his sleeping pups. "Emus. Safe."

She hooked an arm around his neck and briefly pressed her mouth to his. She had never done that before.

The gesture was strangely thrilling.

"I'm trusting you not to abandon us here," she whispered into the side of his snout.

"Emus," he repeated, willing her to understand his word for love.

#

Carrying nothing in the dark, Bosch took the fastest path to the waiting rescue ship. He climbed over the steep mountain pass, but low visibility slowed his progress. A human and pups would find the way too difficult to manage, but it saved him half a day's walk around the incline.

Weather made the hike arduous. Wind and snow beat down on him, making even his well insulated hide shiver. He pressed on because failing was not an option. He did not care how powerful the supposed deity was. Knowing failure was a death sentence for Shelly and his pups, he fought his way through the slippery and narrow crevices. Despite slipping several times, he hurried.

Hungry and exhausted, he reached flat ground as daylight waned. He was stunned to see the small rescue ship merely a hundred yards from him. Staring for a moment, he was afraid to believe his luck had changed. There were rumors of extreme weather causing hallucinations on this planet.

Stumbling the first few steps, he called out to the ship. The wind was against him, carrying his voice in the opposite direction. He hurried on all fours, finding the entrance ramp open and two familiar Gorgs sitting around a camp fire nearby. The scent of roasting meat made his belly ache, but he ignored the pain.

"Bosch," his friend called, standing on two legs. "You made it."

Bosch had succeeded. His mate and pups would be rescued, then the ship would transport them all to his home world. Mother Nature could not reach them there.


The end.