Chapter 1 #2
I glance at the weapons Sprisk has made for us—long, pointed spears hardened with fire, two of them tipped with slim iron heads the size of tent stakes.
I would hate to use those to fight a dino.
“Must have climbed a tree. Sprisk always wants her to get to safety when he fights one of these things.”
“Think it’s the same one as last time?” Morgan asks. “That one just retreated.”
There’s a crash of breaking tree trunks and bushes. I swear the ground shakes for a second.
Then all we can hear is the waves roaring in the distance.
“Quick fight,” Riley says, adjusting the jumpsuit around her chest. “Maybe it wasn’t that big this time.”
I peer into the dark jungle. “Had to be many tons. Should we go and look?”
Cora comes toward us, making her way through the dense foliage with her own steel-tipped spear in her hand.
“That was it. It’s a nice one, too. Lots of fat on it, Sprisk says.
So we can make oil for the lamps. It burns brighter than the leaf oil.
Smells a bit, but you get used to it. Go and check it out if you want. Sprisk will keep you safe.”
The jungle is much darker now that the sun is almost fully below the horizon. But we don’t have to go far before the dinosaur carcass comes into view, amid a circle of fresh, violently kicked-up dirt and broken trees and bushes. It smells strongly of both dinosaur and sap.
It’s one of the smaller ones, the kind that looks like a velociraptor.
It’s still the size of a Suburban, all claws and teeth, pink and dreadful even in death.
It’s not obvious how Sprisk was able to kill it, but I spot a small wound in its narrow chest that would correspond well to the pointy horn he can make slide out of his forehead.
One stab in the right place might do it, even for a monster like this.
Sprisk is standing on top of it, cutting off pieces of skin that can be treated and used for clothing and such.
The timing is good—Callie and I won’t be able to kill a dinosaur, and after seeing Cora’s outfits, I’ve been wanting to make shoes or boots from dinosaur skin.
They should be impossible to wear out, unlike the slipper-like alien things we got at the space station, which all four of us had to discard years ago.
The jumpsuits are much sturdier, but they’re unspeakably dirty, and we all long for new clothes.
Sprisk nods to us. “A good Big,” he says in his caveman language. “Good skin. Lots of fat.”
After he and Cora arrived, we started a crash course in the lingo so we could understand at least some of it.
The other girls were more interested than me, since they’d already decided to go to Cora’s village.
But I learned a lot, almost despite myself, because the language has a logic to it that’s extremely permissive and lets you structure a sentence almost any way you want.
Cora says they give up some precision for that, but I have no intention of discussing complicated things with those guys. Or anything at all, if I get my way.
“You very good hunt,” Riley praises the caveman. “Much bigger than you.”
“I would never hunt this Big,” he says as he continues his work. “Too dangerous. Only when they attack do I kill them.”
I look around the darkening jungle. I’ve rarely been even this far into it. With Sprisk right there, it feels perfectly safe. I totally get what Cora means when she talks about the bubble of safety a caveman gives off. You know he can keep you safe, even here.
What would it be like if he were my caveman? If I had someone like that, huge and strong, someone who could-
“Look,” Callie says, and points to a cluster of fat, white mushrooms. She marches over and kicks the caps off all three, then stomps the remaining stalks into the ground.
I shudder at the sight. Those mushrooms are new, and they are all over the place, looking creepy. Knowing what they really are makes it even worse. “Good job, Callie.”
“Thanks,” she says, scraping mushroom meat off her bare feet on a root. “I don’t want those freaking things anywhere near us.”
“Damn right.” I leave the other girls to their dinosaur and trudge back to the saucer.
I check on the racks where we’re drying and curing the skins that Sprisk has provided for us with his daily hunting, along with the meat, the fruit, and the complicated contraption where we might make caveman wine ourselves, if we happen to have the spare energy to do anything apart from the absolutely necessary.
Now, with two of the girls leaving, that becomes less likely.
Cora tosses something heavy into the saucer.
“We’ll leave you two most of the stuff we brought.
It’s mostly dried food and some of the frine booze.
Some other odds and ends that you might use.
One new dress that you and Callie will have to fight over.
” She sits down on a flat rock by the campfire ring.
“Won’t you need those things?” I ask as I start to build the fire, like we usually do at sunset. “You’ll be walking for weeks.”
She puts a little twig between her lips and chews on it.
“We lived off the land coming here, and we’ll do that same thing on the way back.
There’s water and fruit and nuts all over the place.
And Sprisk is probably the best hunter in the tribe—slash clan.
You’ve seen the energy he has. We won’t lack food.
” She adds some dry kindling to the fire.
“Anyway, I’ve been meaning to ask you, Theodora: are you scared of the jungle?
Is that why you’re not coming? I don’t blame you, by the way.
Walking through the woods is not something to be taken lightly. It sure scares me stiff.”
I nod toward the jungle, where I just saw Sprisk cutting up a big dinosaur.
“If so, that would convince me otherwise. Sprisk is as much at home in this jungle as any of the dinos. He could obviously protect us all against pretty much any attack. No, that’s not the reason. I just don’t want to leave this ship.”
Cora glances over at the saucer. It stands askew on the ground, half overgrown with vegetation, its gray hull stained from dripping sap and moss.
“I’m going to be frank with you, because on this planet we can’t afford anything else: I think you’re making a mistake.
That saucer is dead. Look at it! I remember the one that abducted me.
Inside, it was brightly lit, and it had this eerie hum coming from the walls.
That one doesn’t. It’s broken, even if it has no visible damage.
Even if that Dex you keep talking about were to return, he couldn’t make it work.
And now that I’m being honest, if he hasn’t returned yet, after several years, he never will.
It’s wishful thinking. Callie is only staying because of you.
You know that, right? I think you should snap out of this…
illusion, I guess. It’s really dangerous. ”
I dig in the ashes of the fire ring and uncover an ember, which I place in the kindling and blow on. Cora’s words don’t make me mad. I’ve thought about these things many times.
“I know you’re speaking from a place of caring,” I tell her when the kindling catches fire.
“And I appreciate that. First, if you turn the ignition off in a car, it looks dead. That doesn’t mean it can never drive again.
Second, this saucer does have light inside.
The water supply works. It makes that nutritional paste for us.
Not as much as before, but still. There are some lights on the control panels.
Third, Dex said he’d be back, and he clearly knows how to fly this thing.
Fourth, I have tried to tell Callie to leave.
She won’t. What should I do? Should I chase her away with a stick?
At what point will you accept that another adult may actually mean what she says?
If she stays, that’s on her. Not on me.” I add small pieces of wood to the fire.
“Maybe I just need something to fix,” I admit. “Something that still matters.”
Cora sighs. “All right. Let me just run this by you. We know those mushrooms are Plood aliens in their post-spore life cycle—the very aliens that abducted us from Earth. There must be millions of those mushrooms, and they’re growing fast. Some of them are already nearly the size of a grown Plood.
What happens when they mature? When they become actual, living Plood?
They may want their saucer back. If you’re right and it works, do you think they’ll take you with them?
Where? For what purpose? Can you take that chance? ”
I add more wood to the fire and prepare the skewers for the pieces of meat that Sprisk got us from one of the animals here that’s not a dinosaur.
“That’s all hypothetical. They may never mature.
They may be completely helpless if they do.
We know nothing about them. They’re so small I could probably beat them up.
So yes, I’ll take my chances with them.”
“We think they can paralyze you on the spot, just by staring at you,” Cora says. “Some of the girls experienced that. You’d be helpless.”
One skewer done, I place its ends carefully on suitable rocks so that the meat is above the outer edge of the fire for slow grilling. “Doesn’t sound very likely.”
“Maybe not. But they are aliens. And while they are small, they’re also mean and so technologically advanced that they can build flying saucers.
We do sometimes see these things fly around.
” Cora looks up at the darkening sky. “Not so much anymore, though. But since this one hasn’t worked in years, there must be more of these on Xren.
You’d have a better chance of finding one of those with a tribe behind you.
Also, life on Xren doesn’t have to be a nightmare.
It can actually be really good. It depends a lot on how you see it.
Just saying. I’m done now. I just had to try. Because I was once just like you.”
I finish preparing the skewers, sit down next to her, and reach out to hug her. “I know. For what it’s worth, I think you’re incredible. And whatever happens now, you got Riley and Morgan out of their misery. And maybe one day Callie will follow. Just don’t expect me to come.”
- - -
The four of them leave right before sunrise the next day. We say our goodbyes; there’s some sniffling and wiping of tears, and they turn their backs to us and walk into the jungle, Sprisk in front. Then Callie and I are alone by the saucer.
“It always seems so empty when someone leaves,” Callie says when we tidy up after breakfast. “Like, sad. Wherever you are. It always feels better to be the one who leaves.”
I take her in. Tall and elegant in her ill-fitting jumpsuit, Callie is one of those people who could wear anything and make it look right.
Her long, chestnut hair has more than a hint of curl in it, making it cascade down her back in shiny tresses.
After years on a jungle planet, it shouldn’t be possible. Or even legal.
“Riley and Morgan have been here with us for years,” I reply. “It would be weird if it didn’t feel sad when they leave.”
“Sure. That Sprisk, though—with him around, it felt like we were just camping in a pretty place, not barely surviving in a deadly wildlife reserve. Imagine a whole village full of huge guys like him. You might actually start to feel safe.”
“Not as safe as on Earth,” I point out. “Even the cavemen aren’t immune to the monsters. And in that village, you’d be like in a prison. You’d just have to make your life there, knowing it’s forever, with no hope of ever going home. That’s the whole point of this spot. There’s still hope here.”
She glances over at the saucer. “All we need is a spaceship mechanic, and we’ll be good to go. Dorie, are you one of those weirdos who are staunchly opposed to day drinking? Because they left some pots that I think contain that frine of theirs. I think we should make sure it hasn’t gone bad.”
I grin. “I think you’re right. Can never be too sure.”
We allow ourselves a calm day, with not much work being done. After a late dinner, we enter the saucer as usual and close the hatch.
With its eerie blue light, the interior of the thing will never feel like home, but we know that no dinosaur will go near it. We can actually get a pretty good night’s sleep, just curling up on the floor.
Callie yawns as she loosens the straps on her jumpsuit and lies down on one of the furs that Sprisk got us. “So weird to be in here without Morgan and Riley. At least there will be less snoring. Or maybe I’m the worst snorer of all, and everyone’s too polite to tell me.”
I double up a small piece of fur to use as a pillow. “I think we’re about to find out. If I snore, don’t tell me.”
She chuckles. “Fine. I’ll just leave you a Post-it with veiled hints. Because what the two of us need now is some passive-aggressive conflict over nothing.”
“Have to have something to be righteously upset about,” I agree as I close my eyes.
Sleep takes a long time coming. The night is just too quiet.
When I wake the next morning, Callie’s side of the floor is empty.