Sekhmetka and the Avengers of Aten (Sci-Fi)
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29 Jun 2012, 1:52 am
This sci-fi short story I recently started takes place in an alternate timeline in which ancient Egypt/Kemet and various other historical African civilizations survive to the present day unmolested by European and Arab invaders. The heroine is a Medjay warrior who functions as the Kemetian equivalent to an espionage or special ops agent.
Below is the first draft of the opening scene. Any feedback would be appreciated!
Quote:
Deep in the Ituri Rainforest far south of her native Kemet, Sekhmetka’s hunt neared its climax.
Perspiration beaded her lithe mahogany body as she slid through the undergrowth, equipped with a bow, pistol, and machete. Trees stretched two hundred feet upward all around her, their tangled crowns merging into a canopy that allowed only sparse shafts of sunlight. Unfortunately not even the best GPS could penetrate such overgrown vegetation, leaving little wonder as to why the sniping cowards who called themselves the Avengers of Aten would find refuge here.
Sekhmetka’s rage towards that cult of heretics burned hotter than the jungle itself. Her brother Ipuy’s charred corpse, lying among the Temple of Amun’s rubble continued to haunt her mind’s eye. Although they had chosen very different careers---he was a Priest of Amun and she a Medjay warrior---they had shared a common struggle against the Avengers their whole lives, a struggle which he had lost but she would win. At least, Sekhmetka would win if she ever found precisely where the Avengers hid.
A rancid odor stung her nose. Flies’ buzzing rose over the normal jungle birdsong. The scent and noise led Sekhmetka to a hillock of decaying elephant flesh and bone. Something had torn off a whole hunk of the creature’s neck and flank, leaving behind a bladelike fang in the former. This tooth dwarfed those of any lion, leopard, or crocodile Sekhmetka had seen, and none of those predators could remove so much meat from an elephant before stuffing themselves.
A three-pronged depression in the jungle floor near the elephant carcass resembled a bird’s footprint, yet it outsized any print the elephant itself could have made. Sekhmetka’s heart drummed frantically. Only one animal in the whole Ituri could have left behind such a footprint, a creature which the local Mbuti people always dreaded to name out loud.
If only the Pharaoh back in Kemet had equipped her with stronger arrows, or maybe a bigger gun.
A low roar reverberated through the rainforest, followed by rustling plants and a twig’s snapping. Panicking birds flocked across the canopy. Sekhmetka ran in the same direction, but the rustling still grew louder. Heavy pounding on the jungle floor repeated. Grabbing an overhanging liana, Sekhmetka climbed it onto a tree branch which she tightly embraced. The tree trembled with each of the advancing thuds.
The creature that burst from the underbrush exceeded an elephant in both length and height. It resembled a scaly bird with a serpentine tail and stumpy arms instead of wings. Its mouth, lined with ivory daggers, stank of rotten meat. For a moment the monster paused to sniff about. Sekhmetka froze every one of her muscles and held her breath.
The branch that supported her cracked at its base. The bird cocked its head up, sniffed directly underneath her position, and hissed. Sekhmetka could not hide any longer. She pulled out her pistol and fired at the monster’s eye.
She missed. The bird had jerked back so that the pistol’s beam merely grazed its lip. With a thunderous roar, it rammed its snout into the tree’s trunk. Sekhmetka plummeted off the branch onto the ground. When she scrambled back up the creature descended its gaping jaws upon her.
Sekhmetka fired her gun again. The bird recoiled and roared again, this time with blood gushing from its mouth. Sekhmetka bolted away through the jungle. The bird crashed after her until its breath steamed her back. Twirling around, Sekhmetka fired the pistol a third time. Its beam punctured the bird’s hide but the hole was tiny. The monster clamped its teeth onto the pistol’s barrel, yanked it out of Sekhmetka’s hands, and threw it against a tree. The gun exploded into a red cloud upon impact.
The bird knocked Sekhmetka aside with another swing of its head. She reached for her machete when the bird pinned her torso down with its foot. Repeatedly she banged the machete against the beast’s ankle, but the scales proved tough to scratch. Again the bird lowered its maw towards Sekhmetka. Its saliva dripped onto her face.
Boom.
A blue missile zipped through the sky and smashed into the bird’s side, leaving behind a bloody crater. The creature let go of Sekhmetka and shrieked. A second missile blasted off one of its arms. On this the bird ran away yelping.
Sekhmetka groaned as she struggled to get back up. Pain racked her all over. She rubbed her torso and sighed in relief when she felt no broken ribs.
“You Medjay aren’t used to confronting big carnivorous birds, are you?” someone said.
It was a Kemetian woman with gray dreadlocks who carried a missile launcher on her shoulder. Several other soldiers armed with guns stood alongside her. Most of these also appeared Kemetian, but a few were diminutive Mbuti who barely reached up to the Kemetians’ chests. Golden sun symbols with rays shooting from the bottom hung from all the soldiers’ necklaces---marking them as Avengers of Aten.
Sekhmetka had seen the gray-dreadlocked woman’s photos before. “Neferu,” she said under her breath.
Neferu lent a hand to Sekhmetka, who scrambled away and pointed the machete at her. “Is that how you thank people who save your life?” Neferu said.
“You killed my brother,” Sekhmetka replied. “I want nothing to do with you!” She lunged for Neferu, who sidestepped away before she could strike her. Sekhmetka attempted another attack, but Neferu punched her in the forehead and tore her machete away.
“Do you even know what we stand for to begin with?” Neferu asked.
“Of course I do,” Sekhmetka said. “You Avengers want to destroy the gods.”
Neferu shook her head. “Then I’m afraid Pharaoh’s propaganda has badly misinformed you, young woman. I implore you, please show us an open mind and learn what we really are all about. It’s the least you could do for the people who rescued you from that bird. Besides, we have plenty of extra pistols back in our base.”
Sekhmetka hesitated. “How can I trust the ones who caused my brother’s death?”
“Your brother’s loss was an unfortunate casualty, I admit, but if you cooperate we know how to bring him back. Do we have a deal?” Neferu lent her hand to Sekhmetka again.
Sekhmetka shook the hand. “Yes, we do.”
Perspiration beaded her lithe mahogany body as she slid through the undergrowth, equipped with a bow, pistol, and machete. Trees stretched two hundred feet upward all around her, their tangled crowns merging into a canopy that allowed only sparse shafts of sunlight. Unfortunately not even the best GPS could penetrate such overgrown vegetation, leaving little wonder as to why the sniping cowards who called themselves the Avengers of Aten would find refuge here.
Sekhmetka’s rage towards that cult of heretics burned hotter than the jungle itself. Her brother Ipuy’s charred corpse, lying among the Temple of Amun’s rubble continued to haunt her mind’s eye. Although they had chosen very different careers---he was a Priest of Amun and she a Medjay warrior---they had shared a common struggle against the Avengers their whole lives, a struggle which he had lost but she would win. At least, Sekhmetka would win if she ever found precisely where the Avengers hid.
A rancid odor stung her nose. Flies’ buzzing rose over the normal jungle birdsong. The scent and noise led Sekhmetka to a hillock of decaying elephant flesh and bone. Something had torn off a whole hunk of the creature’s neck and flank, leaving behind a bladelike fang in the former. This tooth dwarfed those of any lion, leopard, or crocodile Sekhmetka had seen, and none of those predators could remove so much meat from an elephant before stuffing themselves.
A three-pronged depression in the jungle floor near the elephant carcass resembled a bird’s footprint, yet it outsized any print the elephant itself could have made. Sekhmetka’s heart drummed frantically. Only one animal in the whole Ituri could have left behind such a footprint, a creature which the local Mbuti people always dreaded to name out loud.
If only the Pharaoh back in Kemet had equipped her with stronger arrows, or maybe a bigger gun.
A low roar reverberated through the rainforest, followed by rustling plants and a twig’s snapping. Panicking birds flocked across the canopy. Sekhmetka ran in the same direction, but the rustling still grew louder. Heavy pounding on the jungle floor repeated. Grabbing an overhanging liana, Sekhmetka climbed it onto a tree branch which she tightly embraced. The tree trembled with each of the advancing thuds.
The creature that burst from the underbrush exceeded an elephant in both length and height. It resembled a scaly bird with a serpentine tail and stumpy arms instead of wings. Its mouth, lined with ivory daggers, stank of rotten meat. For a moment the monster paused to sniff about. Sekhmetka froze every one of her muscles and held her breath.
The branch that supported her cracked at its base. The bird cocked its head up, sniffed directly underneath her position, and hissed. Sekhmetka could not hide any longer. She pulled out her pistol and fired at the monster’s eye.
She missed. The bird had jerked back so that the pistol’s beam merely grazed its lip. With a thunderous roar, it rammed its snout into the tree’s trunk. Sekhmetka plummeted off the branch onto the ground. When she scrambled back up the creature descended its gaping jaws upon her.
Sekhmetka fired her gun again. The bird recoiled and roared again, this time with blood gushing from its mouth. Sekhmetka bolted away through the jungle. The bird crashed after her until its breath steamed her back. Twirling around, Sekhmetka fired the pistol a third time. Its beam punctured the bird’s hide but the hole was tiny. The monster clamped its teeth onto the pistol’s barrel, yanked it out of Sekhmetka’s hands, and threw it against a tree. The gun exploded into a red cloud upon impact.
The bird knocked Sekhmetka aside with another swing of its head. She reached for her machete when the bird pinned her torso down with its foot. Repeatedly she banged the machete against the beast’s ankle, but the scales proved tough to scratch. Again the bird lowered its maw towards Sekhmetka. Its saliva dripped onto her face.
Boom.
A blue missile zipped through the sky and smashed into the bird’s side, leaving behind a bloody crater. The creature let go of Sekhmetka and shrieked. A second missile blasted off one of its arms. On this the bird ran away yelping.
Sekhmetka groaned as she struggled to get back up. Pain racked her all over. She rubbed her torso and sighed in relief when she felt no broken ribs.
“You Medjay aren’t used to confronting big carnivorous birds, are you?” someone said.
It was a Kemetian woman with gray dreadlocks who carried a missile launcher on her shoulder. Several other soldiers armed with guns stood alongside her. Most of these also appeared Kemetian, but a few were diminutive Mbuti who barely reached up to the Kemetians’ chests. Golden sun symbols with rays shooting from the bottom hung from all the soldiers’ necklaces---marking them as Avengers of Aten.
Sekhmetka had seen the gray-dreadlocked woman’s photos before. “Neferu,” she said under her breath.
Neferu lent a hand to Sekhmetka, who scrambled away and pointed the machete at her. “Is that how you thank people who save your life?” Neferu said.
“You killed my brother,” Sekhmetka replied. “I want nothing to do with you!” She lunged for Neferu, who sidestepped away before she could strike her. Sekhmetka attempted another attack, but Neferu punched her in the forehead and tore her machete away.
“Do you even know what we stand for to begin with?” Neferu asked.
“Of course I do,” Sekhmetka said. “You Avengers want to destroy the gods.”
Neferu shook her head. “Then I’m afraid Pharaoh’s propaganda has badly misinformed you, young woman. I implore you, please show us an open mind and learn what we really are all about. It’s the least you could do for the people who rescued you from that bird. Besides, we have plenty of extra pistols back in our base.”
Sekhmetka hesitated. “How can I trust the ones who caused my brother’s death?”
“Your brother’s loss was an unfortunate casualty, I admit, but if you cooperate we know how to bring him back. Do we have a deal?” Neferu lent her hand to Sekhmetka again.
Sekhmetka shook the hand. “Yes, we do.”
And here are a couple of links to concept art for the story:
Sekhmetka traveling through the Ituri jungle
The monstrous "bird" which chases her in the opening scene
