by Sahara Foley
She shivered, again. I must find Lurga and some clothes. Maybe he’s fishing.
Karrin turned toward the stream and found the net full of dead, gray fish. She went over and dumped them on the ground. Stiff as boards, eyes covered by a white film. They’d been dead for quite some time.
Frightened, Karrin yelled, “Lurga. Where are you?” Then, she cringed, remembering what Lurga taught her about staying hidden and silent.
The only response, the sound of water dripping from the trees and the wind whistling around the Rock People.
Concerned, Karrin looked around some more before she hurried over to the pile of silver rocks. Next to them sat Lurga’s bags of silver ore. He wouldn’t have left them, would he? She didn’t think so. Her throat tightened, and her heart fluttered in fear. Something was wrong.
Karrin grabbed her head, in pain, as images formed in her mind. What the hell?
His own people were hunting him, and they called Lurga a traitor, all because of her. Abruptly, the pictures went black.
The pit of Karrin’s stomach burned with dread and fear. If only he still wore the invisible shield she placed around him when they confronted Zelka. However, she made it on the spur of the moment and not designed to last. The force-field would’ve faded away, like the paralysis she put on the palace guards.
Whatever happened, Lurga wouldn’t have left her alone. Not if he had a choice. That meant they found him. He must’ve led his attackers away from her, or else she would’ve been captured, too.
Karrin hung her head. Even the Greatest Ispepyein Warrior can die. She was sure she witnessed his death.
Tears forming in her eyes, she looked up, raised her small fist to the rain-drenched sky and opened it. “Good Battle, my Lurga Pukani.” She hung her head in her hands, weeping uncontrollably, and sunk to her knees.
After several minutes, the rain and cold brought her out of her misery. Shivering, she sniffled and wiped her running nose and eyes. It would be so easy to curl up in a ball and die. To quit fighting the terrible things life kept throwing her way. Yet, Lurga would not have wanted that.
She was his Warrior Child. Warriors didn’t give up. And, Mama Claudia gave her own life so her little girl could find her destiny. No, I can’t give in to the sorrow and grief. I must fight. She owed it to the ones she loved.
Hugging her quaking body, Karrin climbed to her feet. Alone on a planet she didn’t belong on, she was in big trouble. She had no clothes, no food, and winter loomed right around the corner. In days, this constant warm rain would turn cold and snow wouldn’t be far behind.
Karrin learned how to make and set snares, and some of her old ones still laid around. She even learned how to use the net, though, being so heavy, it was cumbersome for her to throw. There were also furs Karrin already tanned waiting to be made into clothes.
The snow was her greatest concern. In the seven and half years she lived here, she knew how deep and treacherous it could be. She could handle that if she had a fire. Without fire, she couldn’t keep warm.
Karrin quickly searched their campsite and the small cave to the east they used during the winter. She couldn’t find any fire-starting material. Oh, shit. It’s in Lurga’s fighter, and I don’t know where he left it. She sighed, frustrated. He probably took it with him anyway.
Picking up a blanket made from fur, she wrapped it around her shoulders and curled into a tight ball, trying to warm up. Her teeth chattered so much they hurt. Damn, why did I have to lose my powers? I could’ve started a fire with no problem. Lost, alone, and abandoned, she fell into a fitful sleep.
A few hours later, Karrin awoke, feeling warm and purposeful, but hungry. The first things I need to do are set my snares and make some clothes.
Clutching her blanket around her small body, she began to set a few traps. As she had to do everything one-handed, it took longer than usual. By the time she finished, she was shivering again.
Damn, I really need to make new clothes. Teeth chattering, she ran back to the cave. Inside the cave didn’t feel much warmer, but at least she was out of the wind and drizzle.
Squatting on the floor, she rubbed her hands together and stared at the pile of skins that needed to be turned into warmer clothing. She had a pattern set aside to cut around, but she needed something to cut with. When Karrin searched franticly before, she didn’t see the knife Lurga always let her to use. So, she didn’t have anything sharp for skinning or making clothes.
She thought about the bags of silver ore next to the rubble of rocks she woke up on. Would some of them be sharp enough?
Hurrying outside the cave, Karrin ran over to the bags and dumped one on the ground. She sorted through them until she found a piece with a sharp edge that fit her hand. Excited, she ran back into the cave and grabbed one of the furs set aside for when she needed a new top or bottom. Sitting cross-legged on the ground, she began cutting the pelt.
It took time and effort, but soon she chopped out a front and back for a top. Now, she needed a way to sew them together. Before, she used a tool from the ship. It heated the skins to the point they could be fused together. That tool was on Lurga’s fighter; wherever that happened to be.
Biting her lip, she stared at the now dull rock/knife. What can I use? It must be something thin and flexible. Karrin recalled making fishing poles from small tree branches. She twisted and turned them until they broke off, and the thin bark would peel into strips. That might work.
She jumped up, intending to run outside, when her blanket slid to the ground, leaving her naked. She grabbed the blue covering and tried wrapping it around her body, so it would stay in place. But, it wouldn’t cooperate. If she hung it over one shoulder and left one shoulder bare, the arm under the blanket ended up useless as it was buried in the fur. She growled in frustration, not realizing she sounded just like Lurga.
The freezing girl laid the blanket on the ground, and hands on hips, studied it. She needed a way to put the covering over her head.
That’s what I need. A poncho. Mama Claudia gave her and Tanya one to use during the rainy seasons in London.
Kneeling, she sawed away with the dull rock until she made a hole large enough for her head. Then, she cut thin strips from the top and bottom as she needed a cord to wrap around her waist to help keep the poncho in place.
With a huge smile on her face and a sense of accomplishment, Karrin pushed her head through the opening and tied the blue poncho to her body. The best part, it could still be used as a blanket.
Karrin picked up her knife/rock, noticing how dull it became. She lightly ran her thumb over the cutting edge. It felt as blunt as the rest of the rock. There had to be a way to re-sharpen her knife.
She went back outside to the jumble of ore and silver rocks and studied one of the black boulders not far from it. The teen began rubbing one of the cutting edges against the black stone. Within a few minutes, she had a sharpened knife.
Now, to locate some small tree branches to cut and use as thread. Karrin spent several hours looking for thin limbs low enough for her to reach. She sawed them from the trees and hauled them back to the cave.
Every so often, she stopped to re-sharpen her soft, silver knife. By the time she finished, she was exhausted, drenched, and starving. Her stomach kept reminding her she hadn’t eaten all day.
Pushing her dripping hair off her face, with dragging feet, Karrin went back outside to check her snares. A rabbit was trapped in each one. She knocked them over the head with the bat she always used, reset the traps, and headed back to camp.
The girl threw their bodies next to the fire-pit in the cave and sank wearily to her knees, her head hanging. She began cleaning them.
When Karrin slit the stomach of the first one and slid her hand inside to gut it, she smiled. It was warm and felt great. She kept her hands inside for a few minutes, relishing the heat. Then, she went back to work. After she finished, there were two new skins to use for clothing and a small pile of cut up pieces of bloody meat.
Eating the meat warmed her up, but it was rubbery with a nasty bloody flavor. The girl hurried and swallowed, then took another, larger, bite. Before long, she devoured three pieces and all that remained were bones.
Stomach full and satisfied, Karrin curled into a ball and fell asleep, dreaming of Lurga’s Ispepyein face.
Two weeks later, the snow began falling, blowing into deep drifts between the trees and boulders. Karrin still couldn’t figure out a way to start a fire, but she did have a bad cold from being wet all the time. Her fur clothes seldom dried out. The only time she felt remotely dry was when she slept in her relatively dry blankets. Then, in the mornings, she had to put her damp, chilly clothes back on.
Karrin became used to eating raw meat and even drank the blood, if the kill was fresh. It helped warm her up for a time. She tried warming her hands on the Rock People, but after a while, fear and hostility seemed to emanate from them, so she gave them a wide berth. However, she did use one of them for sharpening her knives.
Every time she used it, she told it ‘thank you,’ and she was sorry. Lately, she noticed the flat, black color had changed to all silver and two days ago, it went missing from its regular spot.
She shook her head, thinking she’d gone crazy from being alone. Rocks didn’t move, and they certainly didn’t change color. After a few minutes of searching, she found it, gleaming under the weak sun, several yards away.
Yesterday afternoon, a severe storm came through, snowing all evening and night. This morning, drifts went higher than her head, and Karrin dug and tunneled around trees and boulders to get to the stream and her snares.
As she tromped through the snow, the blue sun broke through the cloud cover. She stepped out from under the trees and lifted her face to the sun, enjoying the warmth. I can’t wait till summer returns. Next year, I’ll be more prepared. Yet, I must still find a way to make fire.
The young girl trudged through the snow, going from tarp to trap, collecting her food for that day. Soon, the snow that accumulated on top of the black rocks was melting, trickling down the sides. When she passed by the boulder which turned silver, it also had water streaming down the sides, but the surface seemed to be moving or shimmering.
Karrin took a step back, thinking it came alive. Suddenly, with a rumbling noise, it broke into dozens of silver pieces, splitting where the snow melt had run. The water sliced through it like a giant sawblade.
In amazement, she stared at the jumble of silver rocks, remembering something Zelka said. Karrin snapped her fingers. That’s it. Zelka was right. Water released the Energy Being from the silver ore.
She worried her bottom lip as she pondered. Is that what happened to my powers? Somehow when I imprisoned the Other, I trapped my abilities, as well? It made perfect sense to her. Her skills were new and uncontrolled. She could easily have done that by mistake.
Where is the orb, now? Most likely in Lurga’s fighter, but where is that? She huffed in irritation.
Karrin had no idea. His ship could be anywhere. It might even be on Switch for all she knew, but invisible. She stomped back to the cave, her kills slung over her shoulder. She needed to find the fighter.
Three weeks later, Karrin sat in her cave, munching on a piece of frozen, raw meat while a violent snowstorm raged outside. The wind howled and blew so hard miniature white tornados raced all over the place. Her gaze followed one as it bounced from tree to boulder, when she caught sight of something huge and silver, glinting between the blowing snow.
Squinting, she held her hand over her eyes, trying to improve her vision. Her mouth went dry, heart racing in her chest. That’s Lurga’s ship. Leaping to her feet, she bolted outside, unmindful of the cold and wind.
“Lurga. Lurga,” she hollered as she raced toward the ship, struggling through the thick drifts.
Then, she stopped, panting, as her breath steamed from her mouth and whipped past her head. A towering Ispepyein stepped out of Lurga’s silver fighter. That isn’t Lurga.
Karrin remembered every scar that marred his face and body. This Ispepyein bore injuries aplenty, all in the wrong places. They finally found me, was her fleeting thought as a gray, hulking form trod into the knee-deep snow and aimed a Seeder pistol at her face.
CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE
Wtcha sat on a red, grassy knoll, staring into a massive vortex. It swirled and eddied, purple energy bolts sizzling across the multicolored, star-studded sky as different dimensions collided with each other. Three hundred other Omars lined up along the time-slip, watching and waiting, in a place no one wanted to be. Some had lived at the time-slip for years, days, weeks, they didn’t even know, or care. Time held no meaning in a place where multiple dimensions met, undulating and contorting, overlapping and separating in a constant flux.
The Omars were Watchers, and the original ones had been sent to this distant part of the Universes by the Great One to wait for ‘Something.’ Unfortunately, so many eons or days…months…years passed that none of them remembered. And, after each breeding cycle and a new batch of offspring, they forgot even more. The only remnant left in their collective memory about their directive was this place and their need to watch and wait, but they didn’t remember for what.
Genderless until their breeding time, it took three Omars to procreate. When the cycle of reproduction was over, they reverted to their genderless state. Once a female got impregnated, she dropped the egg from her pouch, leaving her unborn unattended.
The abandoned babies became prey to other creatures. Fortunately, the Omars lived an average of 5,000 years, and they bred continuously. So, the fact very few of them hatched didn’t mean much, though none of them cared anyway.
Still, they existed so long on this time rift, waiting, with generations of Omars watching for the ‘Something', that it drew others. With so many unborn Omars available to prey on, other creatures flourished. This once desolate place in time and space, now, teemed with life.
One of the Omars was Wtcha. It didn’t come here of its own accord. Wtcha was brought by a silver Calen ship. One so powerful all the other creatures, who called this place ‘home’, feared the spacecraft.
One brave Rbena touched the spacecraft, to be instantly fried to death. After that horrible event, none of the creatures sitting along the time-slip bothered the ship. The ones who had been there the longest didn’t care or remember its arrival.
The maelstrom shifted. Wtcha narrowed its eyes, twitched its nose and flicked its twin tails. Was this what it’d been instructed to find? It didn’t remember. Living along multiple dimensions caused problems with memories, and the things observed crawling in or out of the whirlpool caused Wtcha to shudder in terror.
Wtcha scratched its furry head, trying to recollect. A brief memory of a pair of tall aliens, holding hands, walking into the time-slip flashed through its mind. Yes. It was supposed to be watching for them. Wasn’t there something else too? Wtcha flicked its pointed ears in frustration, unable to remember.
The Omars squatting around, picking mites from each other, started chittering and pointing, drawing Wtcha’s attention back to the rift. The excitement caused the other creatures to react.
Before Wtcha could defended itself, it was pushed over and held down by an eight-legged Comora, a large, roach-shaped animal. The Comoras were notorious for getting easily excited and breeding with anything they found around them. They also liked to bite while they mated, and their bite was extremely poisonous.
Wtcha fought for its life, struggling to free itself from the deadly teeth. The Comora’s erect breeding organ probed Wtcha’s body until finding the pouch. Squeals of delight turned to screams of pain as the Comora’s organ dissolved from the corrosive
acid contained within Omar’s breeding pouches.