Space for Evolution

by Zurab Andguladze

  He pondered on this problem for a while, and then explored an alternative that he had initially rejected. What if he were to walk along the surf line? The sand there was dense and heavy, and his legs wouldn’t sink into it. But he still clearly remembered the predator with slippery feelers, and who said that there was only one predator species in the ocean? Nevertheless, after some musing Omis grasped that near to the wash he could closely monitor the ocean, and in case of jeopardy flee from there and no one would run after him. In the end, they were water predators, not land ones.

  Armed with this conclusion, Omis again changed his route and moved toward the ocean. He immediately felt great relief. Now he was walking quickly and easily—gliding his sandals over warm water and scattering algae, that had been abundantly thrown ashore. He walked without stopping until Seler had disappeared. He easily managed to do it, because the night luminary and its dominion had left the firmament shortly after he’d resumed his march.

  When they hid, he faced the same question: should he continue his hike in the light of the Milky Way, or was it better to stop until the morning? He shifted to the middle of the beach and lay with his stomach on the sand. He put his chin on the back of his left palm and watched the forest. In his right hand he held the bow and an arrow. The stars provided him with a sufficient amount of light to notice if something were to appear from the thicket. The ocean with its inhabitants breathed quite far behind him.

  Time passed, and the young man had already rested, but he still couldn’t decide whether he should stay or leave. While he was weighing all the pros and cons, the answer came by itself. Imperceptibly, Omis dozed off and woke up only because his head fell on its side. Sleeping in such an unsafe place would be a blunder. Realizing this, the scout slowly got up and sauntered to the waves, reluctantly moving his legs.

  After he’d completely shook off his drowsiness, Omis decided that now, after Seler’s setting, when it was completely dark, it would be more correct to carry the bow at the ready, and not on his back. He did so and resumed his night journey, with his weapons in his hands. However, it didn’t last long. In this position his upper limbs were quickly getting tired.

  The young man was about to return the arrow to the quiver, which he had already taken off his shoulder, when he changed his mind at the last moment. He decided that he would put it under his belt again. After all, such precaution had already saved him once. Omis paused to do so. The warm waves, lazily rolling towards the shore, pleasantly caressed his legs. The traveler, standing sideways to the ocean, out of the corner of an eye accustomed to starlight, noticed that one of the waves was towering above the others.

  At first, the traveler didn’t attach any importance to this, but a moment later he felt a vague excitement. Something was wrong. Omis couldn’t immediately understand the cause of his concern, but, nevertheless, his sense of danger, intensified after so many deadly battles, accurately indicated an impending hazard.

  Instead of turning his head and looking at the ocean, in order to more quickly understand the situation, he instinctively used a faster method—in front of his mind’s eye he reproduced the scene that he had seen a moment earlier. Having done this, he immediately realized what had bothered him. The wave nearing the shore didn’t have the same height along its entire length. In one place its crest heaved much higher than the neighboring sections!

  Grasping this, his instinct again told him that now he should simply act, not waste time comparing the image from his memory with reality, by turning his head and studying the waves.

  The wayfarer pushed away the wet sand with both his legs and jumped; then he kicked the beach in turn first with his right foot, and then with his left. The moment when the fugitive flew into the air for the third time, he smelled a strong, unpleasant odor.

  Landing on his knees, Omis instantly jumped up and ran away. After a few steps, he looked back at the ocean and, in the faint light of the stars, barely discerned the outline of a large animal. Simultaneously he felt his heart vehemently beating.

  He managed to discern that the huge sea creature was returning to the water, using its fins as virtual legs. Despite its large size, being at least five meters in length, it moved quite easily. Its tunnel-shaped body, semicircular above and flat below, facilitated the predator’s movement on land. Powerful flippers even slightly lifted it above the sand. Omis felt relieved that the beast, with such a body and fins, had not chased him on land as well.

  Here he recalled with alarm that his weapon remained near the waves. He’d dropped it as early as before the first jump. Omis instantly realized the importance of this incident. Now if he didn’t want to go along all the rest of the road with only his bare hands, he must hurry before the ocean took his things to the depths.

  The young man approached the surf, casting tense glances both at the waves and at the shore, where he hoped to see his bow and quiver. Nothing stood out against the white sand, illuminated by the light of the galaxy.

  Omis had an unpleasant suspicion that perhaps he had dropped his weapon into the water. But how could he enter the ocean when this large predator patrolled nearby? As an aside, he decided to name the big oceanic carnivore the BOC-1.

  The scout tried a different approach. He looked for dark spots imprinted on the white sand—traces of his recent leaps. Soon, using them, he pinpointed where his weapon should be. Approaching the place, the traveler saw his bow sticking out of the water. Omis almost rushed toward it, but at the last second he stopped and looked at the ocean. Literally, at a distance of three steps from the bow, the scout marked out the silhouette of the predator, motionless, unlike the waves.

  The scout almost immediately doubted—was the creature really waiting for him? How did it know that he would come here at all? It seemed implausible. Most likely this place was its hunting ground. It lay in wait for its usual prey.

  Knowing what the BOC-1 was capable of, Omis tried to quickly run up to his items, but the animal hadn’t dozed off. At the last moment it rushed to the shore, and the traveler reluctantly retreated empty-handed. In its effort the beast had already half popped up out of the water.

  Standing about ten steps from the water, the young man thought for a while. He soon realized that he didn’t have many options. He must either lure the animal away from his belongings, or leave the shore so that the beast understood that it was useless to wait for him there.

  He warily headed toward the forest, struggling to overcome his unwillingness to approach it at night and without weapons in his hands. It soon became clear that he had real grounds for his fears. When there were only fifteen steps between him and the edge of the forest, he heard the rustle of branches and leaves. Omis felt that he was no longer even able to be afraid. He could only flee.

  At that very moment several animals about the size of a calf came out of the forest, and when the scout saw their behavior in the light of the stars, he instantly realized that this time his fear appeared to be unfounded; these animals clearly weren’t predators. Meanwhile, they’d stopped, glancing indecisively in his direction. In fact, the traveler no longer doubted that he already knew who the ocean predator was waiting for.

  The scout carefully stepped aside. He instinctively moved smoothly so as not to frighten the creatures with jerky movements. The animals stomped the sand for a while, and then, realizing that this two-legged beast seemed harmless, they headed toward the ocean.

  Having reached the surf, the group dispersed along the coastline and began to collect the algae thrown onto the sand, which Omis had encountered in large numbers when he walked near the waves. Nothing suspicious showed in the ocean, but still the herbivores often cast glances at it. Grabbing a bunch with their teeth, they fled from the waves. In about seven or ten steps from the water, they pressed the plant with their feet to the sand, tore it into pieces and ate.

  One animal behaved in a more carefree manner than the rest of its relatives, and devoured its food right near the surf, without wasting time going back and f
orth. While they were sating themselves, Omis even managed to come up with their name—the LH-2.

  The young man had the hope that this animal could serve him, and a moment later he noticed the lone hump of the attacking BOC-1 amongst the waves. Some of the animals had also noticed it and hissed.

  Their carefree comrade still behaved negligently. It enthusiastically shook water from a new portion of food and ignored the warnings of its comrades. A moment later, with lightning speed, it found itself between the huge jaws, which rolled over it like a big wave and forever dragged it into the ocean.

  Seeing this, the traveler headed to the surf right through the flock of frightened and fleeing creatures. Fortunately, the animals had failed to trample the traces of his recent leaps and he still could see the depressions in the sand. Following them he neared the wash, and here he found to his frustration that the bow had disappeared from the place where he had last seen it. Apparently the retreating waves had dragged it into the ocean.

  Now Omis retained the hope that only one BOC-1 hunted in this place, and it was busy with its supper. The young man entered the ocean, and after the next wave had rolled back, he cast a fleeting glance down in search of his property. The rest of the time he constantly looked at the black water, afraid to miss the familiar silhouette. He groped at the bottom with his sandals, trying to step on the bow or on the quiver.

  Omis, with his heart beating hard, advanced into the ocean step by step, and as he did so, his anxiety grew too. He was already struggling with the desire to return to land, accepting the loss of his weapon, when his sandal hooked and pulled on something. Omis immediately realized that it was the bowstring. The young man drew back his leg to get rid of the cord stuck between his toes and the sole of his sandal. Instead, he picked up the string with his foot and pulled it up until he could grab it with his hand. The whole time he never looked down at his actions, but instead watched the waves. Having regained his bow, he hurried further, convincing himself that the quiver should also be somewhere near.

  He ran back and forth, as far as possible while waist-deep in water. He touched the bottom with his feet and, as before, attentively watched the black surface of the ocean. Finally he came across his leather case with the arrows inside, several steps further from the shore. This time, the scout couldn’t lift it with his foot, so he had to dive into the water.

  Taking the quiver, he pulled his head up out of the water and began to retreat to the bank. He hung his quiver on his shoulder, then drew the arrow from under his belt and laid it on the bowstring. Only when he’d approached the land Omis looked back, just in case.

  No hazard waited for him over there. The LC-2s proved this without a doubt, as they had already returned to the wash and resumed their grazing. The scout went through them to the dry sand and headed east immediately, without casting a glance back. Omis went again along the middle of the beach; he couldn’t force himself to approach the waves.

  After about two hundred meters, the traveler came across a small river. He stopped and thought. He no longer had the strength to walk on the viscous sand. Fatigue and hunger had quickly drained the excitement and surge of energy of his recent adventure. Drowsiness engulfed him more and more consistently.

  As far as he could see, the stream flowed at the bottom of a shallow, sandy ravine. Hoping to find some refuge, the scout decided to walk upstream until he reached the forest. After a while, on the right hand side, he noticed a dark spot with blurred edges. Omis hesitated a moment, and then headed towards it with his bow ready. Approaching closer, he found a small canopy. The interwoven roots of a plant held a layer of sand, under which, at first glance, a shallow depression loomed.

  The young man, badly wanting to sleep, without hesitation decided that this place had three walls, a roof, and a sloping floor, and that he wouldn’t find a better cave. He leveled the floor as best he could with his hands and a stick. After that quick bit of construction he considered his “house-building” finished. Then he went down to the river, drank some water and returned to his refuge. He broke off all the large branches from the bush above the cave and disguised himself with their help. With this, he finished his preparations for spending the night.

  Finally, Omis hid behind the twigs, took an arrow in his hand, then sat down and leaned back against the sandy wall of his shallow grotto. He didn’t even have time to realize he had closed his eyes, so quickly did he fall asleep.

  Chapter 79

  After Mafkona had dressed herself, they dismantled the tent and wrapped the lens blank in it. Then they put it in Ama’s backpack and, thus, the crystal piece was even more protected. Having finished their preparations, they resumed their hike and hit the road. Gradually, they adjusted the pace of their advance to suit the girl.

  A customary silence reigned in the forest. The faint breeze, barely seeping between the trees, left the leaves almost motionless, and they appeared incapable of diluting this calm with their rustle. The travelers walked silently, with the exception of when Ama occasionally asked the girl about her leg. Mafkona still felt reasonably alright, although she needed to rest more often than usual.

  After another stop, for some time they marched at a normal speed, but then, when the girl stepped over another log, it was as if an awl had pierced her sick limb. From this moment on, with each following step, she felt that her pain was constantly increasing. It seemed to her that tongues of flame were continuously licking her right thigh.

  Mafkona suffered her ache silently, without complaint, because she knew that her companion could not help her. Due to the concentration of her will, she managed to withstand the painful stretch of road without slowing down till they reached the next hill.

  “How are you?”Ama asked once more,“ Another five kilometers after this knoll and we will reach the river Warm.”

  In response, the girl said nothing. Instead, she went to the nearest tree and collapsed on its roots, which were sticking up out of the soil. Leaning her back against its trunk, she raised her head and looked the youth right in his eyes.

  Only now, having the opportunity to see his companion directly and not from the side, did Ama notice real changes in her appearance. Sweat covered her unreservedly pale face profusely, her eyes had become sunken, and her cheeks were hollow. Staring at him with a frozen look, Mafkona said in a colorless but firm voice “I barely covered the last hundred steps and… I cannot move on.”

  Ama, upon hearing this statement, frowned slightly and looked at Mafkona for several seconds. Then he went up and sat next to her. After a short pause, the young man shook his head, as if getting rid of something, and resolutely said, “Since you can no longer walk, then we must wait here until your pain subsides.”

  Mafkona drank water from her flask and spoke without looking at the youth, “Last time it took half a day with compresses, and then all night. We have no time for this. That means you have to go. Take the maser and go to the river, there will be rescuers sent by Omis. I will stay in the tent, like I did yesterday.”

  This proposal made him think for a long time. Finally, he expressed his doubts: “What if there is nobody on the river? What then? Would I be forced to return here? If I really walk ten kilometers in vain, then we will definitely be late, in spite of having a lot of reserve time initially.”

  Mafkona looked at him without surprise, as if she herself had already thought of such an eventuality. “Do you think Omis could have gotten lost?”

  After a second, she answered her own question, “It could have happened. He had no landmarks at all. He went, relying only on the fact that he would need to go downhill, and that is a very dubious pointer. Because of this, he could have lost a lot of time.”

  “Therefore, staying here is pointless,” Ama concluded.

  Mafkona plunged into her own thoughts, biting her lower lip. Gradually resigned to the idea that the torture called “every next step” was inevitable, she reluctantly said, “Then we would better go. We have been talking for a long time and my woun
d hurts less. And, Ama, could you find me some kind of solid stick? I would lean on it with my hand and thereby reduce the load on my sore leg.”

  The young man nodded, then stood up, took his ax from under his belt and began to wander around. A few minutes later, from behind the plants, Mafkona heard the blows of the ax, and shortly afterwards Ama brought a dry, solid stick long enough to reach up to the girl’s waist. Its upper part had the shape of the letter “V,” but with its legs pulled apart more widely.

  The torment caused by walking intensified with each step taken. Mafkona’s T-shirt became wet with sweat. Touching her sore leg, the girl felt that the swelling had already spread across her entire thigh. In addition, the stick rubbed her right palm.

  Ama saw her sufferings. Despite the terrible fatigue, during stops he climbed the plants and looked with disappointment at the cliff towering above the forest. It seemed that the distance to it remained always the same.

  When the bubble burst on her right palm, the girl had to throw out the stick—she could no longer lean on it. The youth went up to her and leaned over. The girl put her hand on his shoulder, leaning on him instead of the stick. This did not last particularly long; they managed to walk that way only two or three hundred meters. It quickly exhausted the young man to walk in a bent position and at the same time support the girl, holding her by her waist. In addition he had the maser in his other hand and his luggage on his back.

  Ama decided that it would be better to carry his companion on his back. He hung his backpack on Mafkona’s shoulders, and then she climbed in turn onto his back. However, he also soon grew too tired to carry her for long. The girl slid to the ground and returned the bag to him. After that, the frequency of their stops increased again, and they were actually spending much more time resting than walking.

  “Let us take a rest,” Ama said once again, panting. “I will climb afterwards.”