The Ride. Tom Ph.D. Anderson
After the Kinzu disposed of the evil Emperor, the remaining Kinzu retired to their home worlds.
Although they are a valued member of the Market trading sphere, they were no longer involved in the wider galaxy. Except for the occasional quest a Kinzu would become involved in, Kinzu were seldom seen except in diplomatic missions or to trade and these were very rare.
To actually see a Kinzu warrior, to actually meet a Kinzu warrior, was an incredible honor. If he had come simply to buy wine I would have been crushed.
I asked the two of them into my house for refreshment. The Kinzu went in first, sideways, his shoulders were too wide for the doorway. Then Merritt, who said in a low voice, “Don’t grovel, stand up straight.” Fortunately I had a house master’s chair, left behind by the previous owner, which was oversized and very sturdy. I directed the Kinzu to sit in the house master’s chair while Merritt and I took two others. The Kinzu had the strong lindler tea and brandy; I had the same although my stomach would pay for it later. Merritt had his usual honey beer.
The Kinzu would be able to tear me apart as though I was made of thin paper, but I was not the tiniest bit afraid of him. He looked at me eye to eye for awhile and Merritt just sat looking uncomfortable. I sat with an idiotic grin on my face, once again a small boy waiting for a tale of adventure to begin.
The Kinzu’s voice was deep and his words carefully chosen, “My name is Ischuk and I am a District Master of the Kinzu. I understand you have killed three crocs and a tic with your bare hands. As is my right, I have come to offer you the opportunity to ask for the honor to hunt setti.”
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The Kinzu had shared their world with an animal called a setti since time forever. The setti are not gloride monsters and do not ordinarily go into gloride deposits. They live in the wilderness lands where they would not be touched. If the setti leave the wilderness areas they could be hunted, easily killed with a well placed shot from a force rifle.
In the season when the pods of setti would leave the wilderness areas, groups of equal numbers of young Kinzu warriors would form to hunt them. They would each use a force rifle with only one charge. If each warrior waited until the setti was close enough to make their shot true, their setti was dead. If the shot missed, the Kinzu was almost certainly dead, for setti are very difficult to kill with other weapons.
The setti is a tubular torso on top of sturdy legs with slits along the sides from which spines could be extended or withdrawn. These spines could pick up food and place the food in the mouth at the top of the tube. These spines could also slice through a Kinzu hide with ease and slice him into pieces which the spines could lift and place in the creature’s mouth. These flexible spines were incredibly sharp and could easily cut through the hide of any known creature.
Before the advent of the force rifle, Kinzu life had revolved around building shelters where one could be safe from setti attack. The Kinzu no longer feared the setti. They were mainly a test of bravery and skill. Young Kinzu males compete for the privilege of joining in a setti hunt. Only by killing a setti could a Kinzu earn the right to harvest a spine to be made into a belt. A setti spine belt is the most prized possession of a Kinzu warrior.
◊ Ischuk fingered his setti spine belt as he went on. “A pod of fifteen setti had left the wilderness lands and a group of fifteen young males had won the privilege of hunting them. Two setti were killed and the rest of the pod headed back to the wilderness lands where their hunters could not follow.
“In an effort to head them off, the Kinzu hunters inadvertently herded the setti into a gloride mine at the change of shift when the gates were open. The setti slaughtered the workers leaving the mine and went into its depths. Force rifles don’t work in a gloride mine, so the hunters armed only with ceramic spears and knifes followed them in. Three came out carrying a dead setti. They headed back down with twenty other young males. This time none returned.”
The Kinzu cleared his throat. He was uncomfortable with this next part.
“Before another group of young males could enter the mine, I had the mine sealed. The young males turned violent. This was dishonor they said. Kinzu must have revenge on these setti, no matter how many Kinzu must die in the attempt.
“The mine produces caspin, but there are other caspin mines. This one could simply be permanently sealed, with a marker to the Kinzu who had died there. The young males would not stand for this. The setti had to be killed and dragged out. Honor must be served and every last young male would be willing to die to serve that honor.
“Kinzu are a long lived race, but there are very few children. Each member is very valuable especially the young. To go into the mine to fight these setti without force rifles was not honor, it was madness.
“Even so the young males would not be denied. I told them it was a high honor to fight setti in a gloride mine with only ceramic weapons. There were twelve setti in the mine. A hunter group of twelve Kinzu would be sent in the mine to hunt them. This would be a picked group, and competitions are being held to see who would have the privilege of being in the first twelve.”
Older males with force rifles are standing guard at the entrance to the mine to kill any setti foolish enough to leave. The setti would only leave the mine if they became very hungry and with the bodies of the miners, not to mention the thirty five hunters lost so far, it would be some time before the setti became hungry enough to leave.
“I have seen the way you killed those crocs and the tic with your bare hands. I wondered if your ability might extend to killing setti as well?” I could see Ischuk was making a decision.
“Even outside of a gloride mine where a force rifle could be used, a Kinzu would not use a force rifle to kill a croc or a tic, but he would use a blade. These creatures hold no terrors for a Kinzu with blade in hand. An off-worlder who had killed a croc or a tic with his bare hands and asked for the privilege to attempt to kill a setti, or a pod of setti with his bare hands, how could he be refused?”
The small boy in me accepted instantly. If he hadn’t I might have woken up before he had the chance to accept. I had accepted the moment the Kinzu stepped off the ship. I would kill those setti with my bare hands or die trying. I had no trouble looking into Ischuk’s eyes, because I meant it from the bottom of my heart. The adult in the back of my mind was screaming, wake up, this is real, and you could really end up dead. The trouble was, small boys, they don’t listen.
Ischuk told me that they would like to give me one tenth of a planetary treasury, not as payment for the quest, but to reimburse me for my time and trouble. This was a truly enormous sum, roughly what I would earn in 100,000 years at my old job. I refused the money. I could see the look of dismay on Merritt’s face as he saw his fat commission flying away.
Ischuk insisted. I could see in Ischuk’s face that giving me the money was important to him. The Kinzu sell a great many valuable ores to the wider galaxy, but buy little in return. Only about one Kinzu in a thousand becomes a warrior. The rest are scientists and engineers and farmers and laborers and all the people it takes to build and maintain a star traveling civilization. The scientists of the Kinzu are said to be the equal of the scientists of the Elan. The difference is that the Kinzu do not sell finished products. The Kinzu only sell valuable raw materials. The Kinzu rarely buy finished products or raw materials. The money the Kinzu make selling raw materials is used almost totally by Kinzu warriors on quests. A hero should never travel with empty pockets. I accepted the money. Merritt’s own ship took us to the planet of Market, where Ischuk and I boarded a star transport to Kinzu Prime.
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This year’s grapes were harvested, processed, and the wine was being aged. Michael could not remember the last time the estate had produced so much wine in a single year and it had all been sold.
The new owner was going to Market to see about opening a line of credit. Money was not a problem now, but it never hurt to have something in the wings just in case it was needed. Bob was also going to bring back several of the varieties of grape vines from Market that Michael had suggested.
This was the icing on Michael’s