Opalescence

by Ron Rayborne

  His shoulders and feet burned and he was grimy with sweat. He needed a wash. The sun was low, but warm, and the pool perfect. Where the water bubbled to the surface in the center it was undeniably boiling hot, but on the periphery there were areas that felt positively divine. Finding one of his few bars of soap, Tom doffed his pack, stripped and walked to the edge, then slowly went in. Yipping excitedly, Little splashed in as well and jumped around, getting him wetter than he was ready for. Ah well. The water came to his knees and he sat down, sighing as he did. Now it was around his chest. Huffing with exhaustion, Tom lay back, leaving his shoulders out of the hot water until he began to feel just a little better. Gradually, then, he eased himself all the way in.

  Sleepy. If he were to close his eyes now, he suspected he’d be to sleep in seconds. Tom began to wash the sweat and grime off his aching body. He was spent. After a while, he looked at his feet, to his amazement the blisters had softened and the smaller unpopped ones receded. When the water in them was gone, the skin would harden and begin the formation of calluses. In time, these would cover his feet, protecting them. Calluses, the original shoe.

  He felt light-headed. Now what’s wrong, he wondered? Was he getting sick? He tried to think. Did he drink bad water? It alarmed him that everything was happening so soon. He knew he wasn’t in the best of shape before, and now he was paying for it. He turned on his side, feeling weak. Something was missing, but what? He wanted to sleep, but felt that he would not be benefited by it. There’s something — something they told me back at the Institute. Something I need.

  Then he remembered. SALT! That was it. He was sweating it out, losing electrolytes and not getting any back. He’d dehydrate without it. His electrical system would stop functioning. Tom rolled over and sat up. Dizzy. He had salt tablets. They’d supplied him with some. He reached over and opened the lower compartment of his pack, again took out the medical kit and unzipped a small pocket on its side. And there they were in a flat container, 200 tablets of sodium chloride with electrolytes. Quickly he opened the container and grabbed two, popping them in his mouth. He chewed since he wanted to make sure they’d dissolve. He followed the tablets with water. A half-hour later, he felt a tad stronger.

  There came a rumbling off to his right. Then earth trembled and Tom made to get up, thinking it a quake. The sound increased until suddenly, and seemingly from nowhere, a heavy jet of scalding water and steam shot straight up from a crusty white mound on the ground, rising fifty feet into the air. A geyser. It went wide, then splashed back down in a loud rain of liquid and carbonate minerals. Shortly, however, underground pressure relieved, the show ended when the geyser abruptly stopped and Tom sank back into his pool.

  Wow!

  He lay back again, relaxing. Maybe they’d spend the night here. Looking at the sky, he figured they had about three hours of sun left. Seemed like a waste of a few hours; still, he needed to recuperate. He glanced over at Little, who sat looking expectantly at him, reached over and ran his palm down her back.

  “You’re a good girl,” he said. Wagging her tail, she approached and licked his face, then lay down, drowsy. He thought how much like a dog from his time she was. Apparently, canine loyalty was innate. He was proud to call her his friend.

  Little lay half in and half out of the water, dozing with her head on the bank. Like Tom, she was exhausted. Tom doubted she’d ever travelled this far in her short life. She was caked in mud.

  Much as he didn’t want to move, he knew they’d have to. They couldn’t sleep here. He glanced around for a suitable group of trees to hang the T/H in. There were several candidates. He eyed one such, higher upslope, which not only looked ideal, but would also have a commanding view. He chewed it over, then decided against it, not wanting to drag all their gear that far, settling instead for a knot closer by.

  Tom began to push backwards out of the water. Where the water had been, his skin was red. But he felt clean. Then, looking at his arms, he noted something he’d not seen before. Bumps. Little raised swellings were all over them. Pustules. He scratched one. That seemed to make it itch. Scratched another. More itches. Then he saw his legs. Even more, a lot more. “What the...?” He stood and looked down at himself. “What is THIS?” he said aloud. When his skin color began to return to normal with his withdrawal from the hot spring, the bumps became more apparent. There must have been thousands of them, and they were all itching — like crazy. Again, a sense of panic began to take hold. He imagined that some sort of microscopic insects had burrowed into his skin, could think of no other explanation. Then did: a disease, maybe that was it, he’d caught some primitive disease.

  Tom gulped, coughed. If these were insects, there was no dislodging them, they were under the skin, eating him from the inside out. He scratched again and again, but with each scratch the itching only seemed to intensify, along with the size of the bumps. He tried to stop scratching, but found it nearly impossible; the tingling of his skin was irresistible. Instinctively, he stepped back into the hot spring and again sat. That seemed to sate the itch, but he knew he couldn’t stay here overnight.

  Okay, stay calm, Tom told himself. Somehow you managed to be bitten by ticks, get a sunburn, then heat exhaustion, blisters, a searing jock rash (which he’d discovered earlier) and now some strange infestation or disease, all in the space of a single day. Yeah, things are looking good! I’ll probably be dead by morning. It was a strange combination of unpleasant sensations, all rolled into one miserable man.

  The shadows were blending together as the sun set. Get up, Tom told himself, you can’t stay here. Yet he made no move. Truth was, he couldn’t. And that night he slept in the hot spring.

  When he woke early the next morning, Tom felt more tired than the day before. There seemed to be no part of him that didn’t ache or burn or itch. The red bumps had congealed into angry raised masses. He looked at them dully, then closed his eyes and slept another two hours. In the night he’d slipped, oblivious, into the hot pool up to his neck, a liquid blanket. Fortunately, none of the indigenous life happened by, the foul smell a warning that this was not drinkable water.

  When he opened his eyes again, the sun was high behind the small knot of trees he’d intended for the hammock. He felt a mess. And now he was hungry. Famished, actually. He looked around through the fog that filled his brain for Little. She was not to be seen. Sluggish apprehension rose in him, then collapsed again with his consciousness.

  He dreamt that he was in a ship headed for the stars. A ship teeming with billions of others, all clamoring and climbing over each other. It was getting hot, and the people wailed. Something had gone wrong. Instead of the galaxy at large, the ship — or was it a sphere — was headed toward the sun, the red orb growing bigger by the minute. Bright, so bright. He shielded his eyes.

  And awoke. The sun was beating down hard now. He remembered where he was. Everything seemed hot. Tom spied some shade, the little knot again. Clumsily, he sat up. Groaned. There was Little nearby, just out of the water, watching him, small mounds scattered around her. He looked at them. Squirrels. She’d become an expert squirrel hunter and had collected a dozen of them. No, more than that, as half a dozen were already eaten. Ravenous, dizzy, he stood weakly, then picked some of them up and, dragging his pack, made for the shade. Under the trees, he gathered some wood, and with the magnifying glass managed to make a fire. Then, in his delirium, he skinned, roasted and ate squirrels, something that would have been unthinkable just the day before.

  And again he slept, his body hot with temperature.

  Chapter 16

  Julie knew she was in trouble when, after the impact doors shut and communication with control cut off, in the moment just before blackout and launch, Jaqzen smiled at her. Not just any smile, it was a wicked, toothy, unmistakable smirk. A look that said, Ha! I’ve got you now! Then, mouthing the words while pointing at her, he said “Say goodbye to hubby, Bitch! You’re mine!” And in the following interval, immediately preceding blackout, he be
gan to laugh.

  Those in the control room would not have heard. And in the eternity that was that nanosecond, Julie cringed in fear and regret. She’d allowed herself to be lulled into a dangerous complacency, eager to believe that she’d simply misunderstood the man. She’d never return to Tom. Jaqzen would make sure of that.

  Forget silly, far off notions of woman’s rights: he had his prize. This would be his world. The caveman and his booty. She a slave to the barbarian in a Borroughsesque world of his making. Raping her at his pleasure. On the run, savaging this pristine planet for his insane whims. An orgy of blood. How long had he dreamt of this moment?

  She closed her eyes in prayer. Though she was agnostic, not knowing to whom she prayed, she prayed nonetheless. It was all she had.

  And then they were out. Psyches obliterated by the vast stretch of time, crushed beneath the weight of millions of years. Nothing could withstand that.

  Blackness.

  Silence.

  And ... then ...

  Consciousness. Slowly, slowly, it came back to her. Julie shook her head involuntarily. Rubbed her temples. What happened? She stared blankly, yet seeing nothing. Blinking lights. What were they? Pretty colors.

  Fear.

  Wake up!

  Something moved near her. Casually, she turned to look. Someone lying nearby, sleeping in a chair reclined. Big man. Who was he? She smiled.

  Tiny nudgings of memory. Julie rubbed her forehead. The air was thick. She looked around again. Now she could hear small beepings that coincided with the flashing of those lights. A ship. A ... timeship.

  The man in the chair stirred again. Absently, she unbuckled herself and made to wake the other. His eyes opened blearily, then closed again. Julie reached out and steadied herself on an arm of her own chair, then, with dull eyes, placed a hand on the clasp of his restraining straps.

  Her heart began to beat hard in her chest as if it knew something her brain had forgotten and was shouting it at her. No! Get out! Now!

  Julie paused, abruptly pulling back. Enemy! She didn’t know how she knew. She just knew.

  Get out! Anxiously she looked around, all the while understanding returned. Julie drew in her breath.

  The Miocene! Yes, that was it. She’d arrived! They’d arrived! All at once she remembered Jaqzen. He was looking at her, consciousness slowly returning. He smiled now, though without comprehension. She drew back in horror. Look for a way out! Then she remembered the door, darted that way and pushed the button she knew would open it. Open it to a new world.

  Nothing. Oh no. Oh no. Swallowing, Julie pushed again. There was a sound as of great internal strain. The door was sticking. Stuck. Or jammed against something. What if the Strong Box came to rest with the door against a boulder or the trunk of a tree? She’d die in here.

  Then, suddenly, unsealing itself with a ripping-tape-like sound as if it had been shut for a very long time, it slowly pivoted and warm air rushed in. Julie looked out and gasped. Though she’d known what to expect, still, the sight of a new world, a world so unlike her own, startled her. Sights, and now sounds and smells. Julie’s mind raced. With Jaqzen still in a stupor, she could make a dash for it. In a month, she would return and take the Strong Box back again to Tom. All she needed to do was stay alive for thirty days. Then she realized that she’d need food and supplies to get by for a month. Suddenly torn, she thought about a quick grab of essentials, but even now Jaqzen was almost out of it.

  “Hey ... uh ... hey,” he uttered, his voice low, deep.

  Julie smiled at him, then dashed back in and opened one of the drawers with supplies, finding the knife. Briefly, a thought crossed her mind. No. Instead she grabbed the belts that had been holding her just before and cut them off. Jumping over to Jaqzen, she smiled again, then began to lace the belt around each hand, tying it to the arm of his chair as tightly as she could. The last piece she tied around his legs at the ankles. Jaqzen stared at her. Then he began to move. Grunting, he pulled at the lashings, stopped again to peer at Julie, mouth beginning to open in awareness, eyes narrowing.

  “What, what’re you doing?” he asked. He struggled again. Looked around, then out of the door. All of a sudden he was back. Scowling at Julie, he began to wrestle in earnest. “AH! AHHH!” Jaqzen exclaimed. “Let me out, Pine! Let me out!” Now he yanked on the straps. “Let me out right now, or I’ll...” With that, he began to heave his considerable weight this way and that. Soon he would be loose and upon her. He roared. The sound terrified her. “I’LL KILL YOU!” he thundered. Jaqzen pulled, wrenching with one arm, gritting his teeth, tendons bulging in his massive neck. His face, red with effort and rage, was a mask of ferocity. The strap, under great stress, slipped a bit. Julie cast about fearfully, opening drawers quickly, looking for something that might help her. Jaqzen’s eyes, wide with fury, followed her gaze, realizing her plan. A horrible sound of tearing now struck her ears. She looked to see that he was physically ripping through the belt tied around his hands, space-age material designed to hold the weight of two men. In another moment he’d be free.

  In that brief span of time Julie had managed to get a number of things into her pack. In a panic, she found the flashlight, a heavy metal thing, and ran behind Jaqzen, swinging it madly at his head. Though still tied, he was able to move out of the way, and she missed. Again she swung and again missed. Jaqzen now freed his hands. He got up, but immediately fell, thanks to his ankle lashings. As he tumbled, arms flailing for something to grab hold of, one hand knocked the flashlight out of Julie’s and it crashed to the floor. The sound of it breaking apart masked another sound, it was the side of Jaqzen’s head cracking against the solid arm of her chair.

  He lay now, silently, while blood slowly pooled on the floor of the Strong Box. Julie stood, breathing heavily, not knowing what to do.

  A nausea came upon her then, and, overcome by revulsion, she gagged, suppressing an urge to vomit. After a moment, though, the feeling past, she reached down and tentatively felt Jaqzen’s neck for a pulse.

  It throbbed there. Rapidly. Just knocked out, then. She felt oddly relieved. At least she wasn’t going to be responsible for the first killing in this new world. Confident he would eventually escape, she cut another piece of strap and retied it around Jaqzen’s wrists, then set to gathering supplies and loading them into her pack.

  With one flashlight now gone, she took the other, Jaqzen’s, leaving the big man with nothing to use at night. All the better, she thought. Then another thought struck her: The pistol. Yes. She found it, and dropped it into the bottom of her pack. “No killing for you, least not with that,” she said. If he was so tough, let him meet the wildlife on their terms. Then, wait. She looked in his storage area. Ah, two sizable rifles. There were also six cases of ammunition, a thousand shells each. Looked like he was either planning a killing spree galore or to be here a long time. Quickly, she grabbed the guns and set them by the door, then dragged the ammo out and over. She’d hide or bury them.

  Something else nagged at her. She walked back over to the unconscious giant. Looking at him, she felt his pockets. A knife. Let him keep it. Then she remembered the heavy-looking object in that leg pocket she’d first seen in Karstens’ office. Let’s see what this is, she thought, opening it. Sure enough, a gleaming, ivory-handled six-shooter. A treasured favorite, probably. Okay, how do you undo this thing? She fumbled, careful not to touch the trigger. Finally, the side fell open, and there she saw the six bullets. Lifting the gun end up, they fell out into her hand. She closed the barrel again and put the gun back, then refastened Jaqzen’s pocket. Let him think he forgot the bullets.

  Having loaded her pack, Julie lifted, dropped it. Wow, heavy, she thought. It was never meant to hold so much at a time. Well, it’d have to last her thirty days. Then she remembered where ... when she was. Despite her fears, her heart leapt. She turned around to gaze at the shafts of light streaming in through the open door. Tiny particles of dust from the outside hovered there, slowly churning in the w
aft of air that brought them in. She could feel the gentle flush of breeze on her skin.

  Lifting her pack, Julie grit her teeth, and, taking a breath, pushed the door open wider with her foot. It swung easier this time, revealing a familiar scene — that wonderful, magnificent view from Karstens’ recording.

  Light and warmth fell fully upon her now, which made her realize how cool the inside the Strong Box was. Cold, actually. She wanted out.

  Julie took a step, then another, transfixed by that exquisite scene. There was birdsong all around her — in trees living and green. The air smelled wonderfully fresh and fragrant. The sky was a pure, sweet blue. A warm breeze ruffled her hair, while distantly, an animal called.

  No time for that now! She set the pack against the side, then reentered to drag out the ammo, case by case, hiding them within a large, dense shrub behind the Strong Box.

  There was one last thing to do. Julie found some of her extra clothes, and, outside, doffed her green jumpsuit, dressing in attire much more comfortable and suitable for the exertions ahead. She stored the suit inside.

  She glanced back at Jaqzen; still unconscious, though the movement of his chest was normal. She wondered how long he’d be out. How much of a head start she’d have. Better get a move on. She straightened and made to depart. Then a thought occurred to her. What if Jaqzen couldn’t get out this time, perhaps too weak from the knock he’d suffered? He’d slowly starve to death and she’d come back in thirty days to the decomposed body of the man still lying there. Then what would she do? Julie decided to even the odds a bit. She took the knife she’d earlier found in his pocket and set it on a small, raised bank in the control wall, perhaps five feet away. When Jaqzen came to, he’d see it, and, with effort, could make his way over to it and perhaps kick it down with his legs. Eventually, he’d cut himself free. By then Julie hoped to be long gone and out of range. In a twisted sort of way, she was actually glad for this turn of events; she’d never really wanted to travel with him, anyway.