On the Rocks

by Peter Rhodan

  The sun had yet to reach zenith and already his leg muscles were starting to ache, reminding him that cross country walking over rough ground was a completely different thing to a daily five kay jog on a treadmill. And his kendo training was very rusty despite his efforts to maintain his form aboard ship especially for the last two ships he Captained where there had not been anyone to practice against. There was always a tendency for one’s movements to become rather mechanical on those occasions when he could be bothered to go through with some of the training drills without a live opponent. He had tried running through some of the moves in his head but eventually realised he needed to be physically doing the actions to get the memory circuits working.

  The western shore was overgrown with small, weedy, looking bushes that spread from the lake shore up the sides of the steep rising hills or mountains and it took him some time to make his way to the end of the lake. Here the ground rose with the small elevation forming the western dam wall of the lake. Looking ahead from his slow progress along the edge of the lake he thought the top of the rise was perhaps a little less thickly covered in vegetation which did indeed proved to be so. The scrub and trees of the rough lakeside terrain abruptly ended in what must have been a paddock or crop field and although he had no experience with farms this was certainly an artificially cleared area even it was showing signs neglect.

  He paused at the edge of the scrub to look around before exposing himself but could not see any threat from the area which he decided was definitely an unused paddock. The grass was long and had a distinct un-looked after appearance besides which he spotted several small shrubs or baby trees poking up out of the unruly mass of grass at various points, most of the taller ones were close to the edge of the wild woods but there were quite a few smaller bushes and such like scattered about further in as the paddock slowly reverted to a more natural state.

  Still being careful he edged along the border of the once cleared area to where it ended. He still could not see over the rise of the land so had no idea of what was on the other side and therefore he remained cautious as he continued to slog through the brush beyond the field rather walk through the formerly cleared area where the going would have been much easier but also make him far more obvious. Apart from the occasional bird he still seemed to be alone in the landscape although given his lack of bush craft he realised he was probably advertising his presence very clearly to the local wildlife pushing through the bush the way he was. Finally he shrugged to himself and gave up trying to hide and simply waded through the grass to the top of the rise.

  He was still pretty cautious as he worked his way over the crest of the hill but there seemed to be nothing to threaten him as below him the low rise fell away into another brush bordered lake, it's glassy steel coloured water looking very much like one he had crashed into although it was perhaps a little smaller. Away to his right was another overgrown paddock and just up slope from him, semi hidden by some trees appeared to be a building of some type set in a small valley like recess in the surrounding mountains. He worked his way through the trees and found himself looking at what had presumably been a circular farmstead with a stone base wall and timber upper works which had largely collapsed into a tangled pile of grass covered debris. As he began to move into the building area itself and got a closer a look at the remains he realised it had been burnt. Lines of charcoaled beams still projected up through the encroaching grass and bush. He poked around in the ruins with his metal rod he had been using as a staff but there was little to be seen amongst the fallen beams that had not burnt and the stone base wall which still curved around about a metre high.

  He was no archaeologist so could no real idea of how long it had been since the place had been burnt down but he had to have been some years he felt, given the plant growth around the ruins. As he moved away towards the west his foot hit something that moved in the undergrowth and he looked down, then jumped back startled as he recognised the two bones that could be nothing else but a human forearm. Cautiously moving his rod about allowed him to satisfy himself that an entire body lay there in the grass unburied. He made no attempt at a close examination as he lacked any real knowledge of forensics and felt that it would be a waste of time for him to play around with just bones. Leaving his grizzly find in situ he headed back through the trees towards the new lake he had discovered. A body left lying in the open to decompose did not bode well for the general level of civilisation to be found in the local area!

  Once out of the trees he looked carefully around before heading down the slope but saw nothing threatening and began to walk towards the new lake even though he couldn't decide whether he was indeed going in the right direction to find civilisation or not but determined to press on anyway. As he moved down the slope towards the second lake he noticed a stream off to the right that clearly led from the larger first lake into this one and the water running down like that meant he had to be moving downhill or at least that is what he tried to convince himself it meant.

  The border of the second lake appeared to be just as barren as the first although he did discover that there had obviously been a track along the northern bank at some time. Like the farm it was overgrown and in places it had been completely washed away but even so it did make the journey a bit easier than it would have been otherwise. After he had struggled for what seemed like hours along the edge of the lake under the grim mountains, he felt like he had walked for kilometres, but given his relatively slow pace probably wasn’t anywhere near as great a distance as he imagined. The bowl of hills was perhaps a little lower now and he realised the sun was about to disappear behind the hills just as he reached the end of the lake. He could see well in the dark like all modern people but he still needed to rest and it was getting on to the time he should be finding somewhere to camp whereupon, as luck would have it, he rounded a rather steep hill edge and saw another farm ahead.

  Like the situation at the first ruin the cleared paddocks were overgrown and covered in newly growing trees and shrubs but he continued on towards the copse of trees in the centre where he expected to find another farmhouse going on his earlier experience. Sure enough as he approached he could make out the fallen down remains of another stone based building. Even though it was getting dark he took some time inspecting the inside of the shell making sure there were no bones or critters lurking inside before setting up his camp. This building seemed to be in better shape than the previous one if still overgrown and falling down but it had not been fired, or so it appeared. The house had simply been deserted at some point and left to rot, or so Arturo felt looking at the collapsed remains.

  He had left the tent behind because of its bulk but he had folded up the small entrance ground sheet that was separate to the main floor of the tent and which had a couple of holes in the corners which he had threaded plastic twine through and tied around his waist. This sheet he secured to a couple of branches he found, poking their ends into the ground beside the stone walls and thus making a crude shelter. Some further searching found plenty of firewood in the form of fallen branches from the small copse of trees and soon he had a nice fire going and he settled down for the night resting his weary muscles, particularly his calf and thigh muscles which were now quite sore from the unaccustomed physical exertion of all the walking he had done. He was so exhausted he fell to sleep almost immediately despite the hardness of the ground, the less than salubrious surroundings and the rather musty smell the ruin had.

  Chapter 4

  Dead reckoning

  He wasn't sure what woke him but he was suddenly wide awake and sure he was not alone. He carefully reached to his right and found the metal pole he was using as a staff and with that in hand he slowly and carefully turned his head to the left because he felt that was the direction of the unknown something that had wakened him. The darkness was almost total, the burnt down fire was behind him and the faint light from those stars which were not blocked by the ever-present clouds did little to brighten the gloom, an
d yet he could almost feel something or someone was just there, maybe three or four meters from where he lay. As his eyes adjusted to the dark he was sure he could see two human shaped figures inching towards him.

  As the nearest got within two metres he lurched to his feet and swung the pole in a low sweeping arc. His pole connected with the man's legs, taking them out from under him and he fell to ground with a surprised yelp. The second man rushed at Arturo, a long metal object faintly gleaming in the starlight. Surprisingly, Arturo found his kendo training returning without thinking and as the man rushed he stepped to one side and brought the pole down on the top of the fellow's head with a hollow thunk and he swung his pole around the now staggering man who tried to turn to face Arturo only to meet Arturo's next blow fair on the forehead. He collapsed in a heap and Arturo turned to face the first attacker who had now regained his feet.

  This man was likewise armed with a long metal object which Arturo finally recognised as being a sword. The man attacked with several quick thrusts but Arturo fended them off with his pole then he pulled the same step to one side trick and connected solidly with the side of his opponent's head. The man wavered a second then went down in a heap lie near the first assailant. With a surprising suddenness fight was over and he found his hands shaking in reaction to the adrenalin his body had been pumping into his system while he had reacted to the attack and short fight. He thrust his pole into the ground and just leant against for a moment to let his shaking stop and his heart rate recover and he studies his two attackers. Their slow reactions had almost been as if the two assailants had not been able to see him or his pole clearly in the dark, which had made his defence easier but whatever the case Arturo was very relieved that he had won. He rather doubted he would still be alive if he had succumbed to their attack.

  He finally knelt down to the closest of the attackers, who was still alive apparently and as Arturo lacked anything he could use as rope so resorted to pulling off the rather dank and odourful shirt like thing the man was wearing and used that to tie the bandit's wrists together. The fellow sported a leather belt which Arturo used to bind his legs with, tying the fairly pliable leather in a knot. Happy with his rather successful first performance in close combat he turned to the slumped figure of his first victim. Kneeling, he began to pull the shirt off the still form but stopped at the strangely limp feel of the man. He peered at the man in the gloom and touched his forehead which proved to be damp with what Arturo discovered was a dark tacky liquid which had to be blood he realised after a moment of blankness. He quickly put his hand on the man's throat and could not find a pulse. Grabbing his wrist was no help and Arturo sat back on the turf with a groan as he realised the man was dead.

  He had never killed a man face to face like this before and his stomach knotted although he wasn't actually sick. It had happened too fast to really comprehend. Space battles weren't so immediate like this, that was for sure. Knocking down some underarmed and underequipped cobbled together space ship that was trying to fight a Federation warship lacked the intimacy this had, although the people in the opposing ship were just as dead he realised. He'd even seen quite a few bodies when detailed to inspect a wreck while still a junior officer, but this was just different, being so in your face, close up and personal.

  In the end he wasn't sure how long he spent sitting looking at the body but at some point the thought occurred to him that they may not have been alone. He collected the two swords and the belt dagger the dead man had and put them behind a bit of tumbled wall, checked the unconscious man was still out and then carefully exited the ruin and scouted around. After a fruitless couple of circuits around the ruin he decided they must have been acting alone and returned to the old farmhouse. The bandit was still out of it so he decided to leave the dead man where he was till morning before burying the body, hopefully the sight of the cadaver lying there would help the other man answer questions with more alacrity than he would have otherwise. Neither of them smelt particularly clean and from the odour now started to accumulate in the area the dead fellow must have voided himself, so Arturo took his stuff and moved to the far side of the small ruin to get as far the stink as possible.

  It took him some time to nod off again, indeed he was beginning to think he wouldn't get back to sleep at all, and then he woke to a rustling sound and looking around spotted his captive using part of the wrecked wall as lever to try and pull the bindings off his arms. Arturo got up and armed with his trusty pole walked over to the man who had stopped his attempts to free himself as soon as he had realised Arturo was awake.

  In the daylight Arturo was able to get a much clearer look at his captive. The man was rather seedy looking with a scraggly beard and moustache, both of which looked to be more a result of him not having anything to shave with rather than something deliberately grown. He was wiry but muscled, with sandy hair, grey eyes and a rather nasty scar that ran from his armpit to his lower rib cage on the right chest. Arturo guessed him to be aged between twenty five and thirty five but it was hard to tell especially given he appeared to be significantly underfed. And also unwashed recently given on the aroma he exuded which was an unpleasant mix of old sweat and other things Arturo did not want to think about.

  "So what's your name then?" Arturo asked conversationally as he squatted near the tied man. The man cocked his head at Arturo but said nothing. "So cat got your tongue has it?" Arturo questioned and prodded the man's rather odd looking leather thong style footwear.

  The captive shook his head then said a few words of something Arturo had never heard before. Now there were a lot of former Empire colonies out there and on some the language had shifted over the centuries but even so there was always a base core of English underneath. The Federation recognised four main English dialects beside their own supposedly correct version of English and over the years Arturo had heard all sorts of accents and dialects. But this was something he just knew was totally different.

  And then the man surprised him by switching to something that almost sounded like it could have had an English base. The slower, more studied way the man spoke this second language led Arturo to believe it was not his native tongue. The words of the first language had flowed naturally off his tongue whereas with the second he had obviously had to think about the words to use and how to say them. He shook his head "No, sorry can't understand a word." He paused and thought about things. If he was going to be here permanently, which if they had regressed to swords seemed to be a likely scenario, then it would probably go easier if he learnt the lingo, although having to learn two new languages was a bit much to ask.

  He smiled at his captive and patted his chest. "Arturo" then pointed at the bound man and shrugged, then tapped himself again "Arturo."

  "Oween." The other man said before he could repeat the action a third time. Arturo nodded and smiled in resignation realising that this was going to take some time but then time he had in plenty of he supposed. Arturo pointed to his arm and said "Arm." Then his hand "Hand." The other man went to repeat what Arturo had said but he stopped him and tried to make it clear he wanted Oween's words for arm and hand, not his own. Eventually Oween got the idea and Arturo got down to seriously starting to learn the man's language.

  By the time Arturo felt it was lunch time they had started to make some progress but even so it was plain that is was going to take some time. It didn’t help that there was the second language, many words of which Arturo decided had been taken up into the primary language, although not always with the same pronunciation or used the same way. Such cross pollination was not something he understood, only being barely touched on in his Academy course on languages, but he rather thought it needed a long period of co-existence for languages to cross borrow words that way.

  Oween looked a bit wary when Arturo handed him a ration bar but bit into it willingly after he watched Arturo half finish his own. After lunch Arturo decided it was time to deal with the body of Oween’s companion. He searched the man and found a small cl
oth bag containing two small pretty stale hunks of bread, a leather purse with two small bronze coin like disks and a ring with what appeared to be a sapphire stone inset onto it. His victim’s leather belt was very worn and the scabbard of the man’s sword had been housed in was literally falling apart but they were both better than nothing he supposed.

  Through signs and the few words he had picked up already he conveyed to Oween the idea of dragging the body outside the ruin to where the ground was softer. Arturo then started digging a trench with the man’s sword. The soil was soft for the first meter but then became rock hard. Arturo settled for that and scraped out a grave then rolled the body into it. He pushed the dirt on top of the man at which point with Oween began helping which surprised him and then he piled some of the fallen wall stones on top of the mound for good measure. Oween bowed his head and said some words Arturo couldn't follow and that was that. The man’s lack of emotion struck Arturo as odd but he supposed that there if there was no honour among thieves then there was probably little real friendship either.

  Having finished with the burial Arturo then found himself somewhat at a loss as to what he was going to with the man until a thought struck him. He mimed eating and said the word he thought meant food, then spread his arms and opened the palms of his hands in a questioning way, trying by these signs to ask the man if he knew where there was some food in this benighted area.