The Hunter

Grey stood out from the crowd. There was no-one in the throng disgorged from the scruffy shuttle who was dressed as well as he was, and no-one who had his confident, some would say arrogant bearing. It was abundantly clear that he wasn't a local come home from some mining colony in the outer system; his dress, his luggage and his accent marked him out as an interstellar traveller, and a man of such wealth as could hardly be dreamed of by the shambling creatures who milled around him.

At first glance, and even after lengthy reflection, Turk IV seemed to have little to offer Grey. By any standards the hospitality was poor and the locals unfriendly to the point of being surly, and all of this came at the end of a long uncomfortable, and what could only be described as improvised voyage. No liners called here; one bulk freighter after another had been Grey's stepping stones across the least fashionable of subsectors. This wasn't the kind of trip Grey would have brought his wife on; even the thought made him chuckle.

He collected his equipment and, as he always did on these expeditions, carried it himself out of the grimy terminal building and on to a new world. He had seen hundreds of new worlds, but this unpromising backwater did offer something to Grey; it did seize his imagination. he breathed deeply of the mildly acrid atmosphere, and felt the beginnings of that thrill he valued so much.

The hunter, Banks was his name, seemed to Grey an unprepossessing figure, but within an hour of that first meeting his lean conversation had convinced the traveller that he had indeed hired the best man for the job. Banks traced a long finger over the maps and Grey could tell that he knew the land and understood the game. Oh yes, he was the best, and he was being paid handsomely for his knowledge.

'There are very few left' the native said.
'How many?'
'Perhaps the one I saw last winter was the last. I don't know.'
'Good.' Grey felt his pulse quicken.

Soon the rust and the clamour of the city were left behind. The wilderness beckoned and Grey would have no truck with flyers or even wheeled vehicles. This would be a trek and then a hunt in the old style: a man, his weapon and the beast he had long pursued.

Grey was fit. Every gram of muscle was an expensive testament to what wealth and leisure can achieve. But nevertheless the mountains of Turk IV and the paths through them that Banks chose left the off-worlder daunted, gasping; exhausted at the end of each day.

'Shall we stop for today?' Banks asked after hours of silence.
'No. I'm good to go on.' Every sinew in Grey's body ached. He lived for days like these. he pulled up his breathing mask as a concession to the pain; he would breathe "standard" for a while.

On they went, each day higher into the massif, and deeper into what had been, before Turk IV was settled, the exclusive territory of the creature.

Their rare conversations were staccato exchanges; words came as exertion allowed.

'When the hunting started, how did they hunt?'
'At first from vehicles. Later from the air.'
'And how long has it been?'
'Protected?'
'Yes.'
'Twenty years.'
'And so?'
'And so. Old habits die hard. The creature breeds slowly. More people in the mountains. Less prey. And so.'

From banks that amounted to almost a lecture. He spoke less as each day passed. Until the last.

'Here' the hunter said in a hanging valley of astounding snowbound beauty under a flawless azure sky. One of Turk IVs moons hung above them, but a couple of hours of daylight remained. 'It is here.'

They had seen the tracks two days earlier, and even when Grey could discern nothing but rock and snow, Banks had led him unerringly onwards.

The sight clicked satisfyingly into place. Grey lovingly wiped the barrel and checked the stock. He loaded and came back alongside Banks, laying down on the rocks and feeling the icy wind from the high pass bite into his cheeks. The ground was firm against his body; he shifted his weight. He felt good, better than that, he felt truly alive.

'There it is.'

'I see it' Grey replied in hushed tones. He was awestruck despite himself; this creature was the most magnificent he had ever seen in the flesh. Even without the aid of his sight he could see its grace and power; with his sight he could make out every detail of its silver white coat, the line of its powerful jaws and the rippling musculature that propelled it with ease across a slope that in truth was probably closer to being a cliff. Grey was aroused; the anticipation of what would follow was such that his breathing quickened and his body stirred.

'It is beautiful isn't it?'

Grey was wrenched from his reverie by Banks' voice. For days the man had been as taciturn as a rock by the side of the trail and now, with the glorious climax so close, he wanted to ask inane questions.

'I think that this may really be the last one' the hunter went on.

'Good' Grey managed. He felt so powerful with this gorgeous creature in his sights, under his control. He didn't want to rush this. After the long gruelling trek, the consummation had to be perfect.

'We have chased it and found it. You have it in your sights. Do you really intend to kill it?'

Banks had suddenly developed a talent for putting a damper on Grey's passion. 'Why yes I intend to kill it, and if you'd be quiet I would get back to savouring the moment.'

'I thought that you might change your mind when you saw it.'

To Grey, Banks' voice sounded like a whine now. He didn't want to roll over and shout the hunter down; even through his mountain gear Banks might notice the level of the traveller's arousal.

'I am not going to change my mind. I came to kill it Banks, and I am going to kill it now.' At the last Grey discovered that he actually liked the pitiful pleading from Banks, part of him even hoped that the native would continue a moment longer.

But Banks spoke no more. Grey sighed to himself and prepared to take this creature, a unique beauty perhaps, for himself. He adjusted his rifle in his hands and flicked off the safety.

Then came the report, a bang that echoed across the high valley. Grey was confused; it had come a split second too early, and then there was the pain and the rapid loss of feeling in his hands and arms; the unmistakeable spreading warmth that was his own blood pouring into every fold of his layered clothing. His head fell forwards and everything went dark.

Banks threw Grey's body into a glacial crevasse. Even if it was ever found, there was nothing to link this man to him. The deal had been done with all the secrecy needed to hunt and kill such an animal as this one. The hunter trekked home and troubled his conscience not at all with the death of the off-worlder. Banks doubted that the man would truly be missed.