by Louise Wise
Fly rolled from side to side to avoid the chain, before making a grab for the end and pulling the man towards him. He fell heavily, winding Fly, but Fly rolled until he was on top and unable to do anything but use his head he head-butted the man again and again.
There were cheers all round, and then he was pulled off the bloodied man and held up against a tree by three others. Murdow extended his claws and held them against Fly’s throat.
‘The woman?’ he asked.
‘There is no woman.’
A bloodcurdling yell, from somewhere in the jungle, caused all the men to quieten.
‘Orwain?’ someone asked.
‘Not this part of the island. Stop your jitters,’ Murdow said. He turned back to Fly. ‘We’ve been watching you Flitespinter. We know you live along the beach somewhere because we’ve seen you in a boat fishing. Nice and cosy, you and she. Where’d you get her? All the stowaway females died.’
Fly remained mute. Behind Murdow and his sniggering men stood Bo, and in his hand was an undecorated spear. It looked freshly made.
‘What’s an Orwain?’ Fly asked. He wanted to keep Murdow and the others’ attention on him, certain that Bo was about to launch the spear.
‘I ask the questions,’ Murdow said, ‘and I’ll ask again, where is the wo—’ he didn’t have time to finish because Bo hurled the promised spear. Fly kicked out as Bo turned and ran into the wood, and managed to pull away from the tree, but there were just too many men surrounding him and he couldn’t use Bo’s surprise attack to his advantage. His head was snapped back against the trunk and his arms were pulled behind him until he thought they’d break. He yelled in frustration until someone smashed something heavy against his head.
‘Dammed prims!’ A man was clutching Bo’s spear, hanging from his shoulder—blood was seeping between his fingers. He broke off the spear, leaving part of it embedded, and rushed after the honnard.
‘Leave it!’ Murdow shouted after him, but shouted at nothing. The man had gone.
Murdow turned back to Fly, and Fly eyed him through a curtain of blood, the result from the blow to his head. Murdow’s eyes were on the exposed seashell necklace around his neck. He grabbed the end and snapped it away.
‘Real hair,’ he said. He showed it to another man who took it and sniffed the hair. Murdow looked at Fly. ‘Is she a mutant? Did she come from the howling primitives?’
‘I found her in a valley near the snow-capped mountains,’ Fly said. He had to keep her separate from the natives or the Jelvias would search for her among them. He berated himself for not checking if they’d been followed. Terrible images of the Jelvias finding the small settlement raced through his head. And what if Bo, this very minute, was leading the chasing Jelvia towards them? He closed his eyes. The Jelvias wouldn’t kill Jenny. She’d be a prize. Something of value. ‘They are another species of the primitives. Dumb,’ he added.
Murdow stepped back. Fly couldn’t be sure if he was believed or not. Probably not, judging by the swing of Murdow’s fist as it connected with his jaw.
The third blow caused the day to dim.
Chapter Nineteen
Jenny woke with a jump. The dark was total in the den, and around her were the yellow glowing eyes of the honnards. Her heart began to pound, and her mouth dried as awareness caught up with her in short, sharp memories: Jelvia. Native-wolves. Honnards. Birth. Alone.
She sat up with Diana clutched against her chest and shuffled backwards to lean against the cold walls of the cave. It was so dark in the cave, and the smell of animals was strong.
‘Fly?’ she called. The low chat of the honnards cut off as she spoke and Fly’s name hung in the air. There was no reply, and the honnards began chatting again.
Warmth from a hairy body next to her huddled closer to her. ‘Chuff, chep,’ Mum said.
Jenny felt the honnard’s breath on her face, and turned her head away. A single tear rolled down her cheek. Something was wrong. Badly wrong.
***
Daylight came into the cave through the swaying vine curtain, and Jenny was surprised to find that she had slept. Diana was lying beside her in a tangle of soft flora and fur, her tiny hands were balled into fists and pressed against her puckered mouth. And every once in a while her little mouth opened to suck the fists. Jenny thought her heart would swell and pop with love as she studied her baby. Light had been fading as she gave birth and she hadn’t been able to study her properly until now. The mop of downy hair Jenny had spent the night nuzzling was light brown. The baby’s eyes were closed and Jenny couldn’t see if she had Jelvian or Human eyes.
Last night, it seemed that the entire cave had been filled with the honnards but now there was only the expectant native. Jenny did a double-take noticing that she’d had her baby as well. The cavewoman was letting her baby suckle, and was looking at it with such love, Jenny felt a wave of unity. The baby looked human. Totally hairless and making the same baby sounds as her own. The native looked up and caught her looking. She grinned a mouthful of sharp white teeth. Jenny’s smile was genuine as she grinned back.
Jenny’s eyes fell on the whistle she’d thrown at Fly and a chunk of regret filled her aching heart. She stretched to reach it and pocketed it. Fly had carved it. It was something of his, and as daft as it seemed it made her feel close to him.
There was movement from behind the vine curtains and Mum came shuffling in. Jenny wasn’t sure her real mum back on Earth would approve of the name she’d given the honnard. The elderly native came over carrying two large thick leaves, and offered one to Jenny and the other to the new honnard mother.
She tucked into it with relish; eating one-handed while her baby suckled. Jenny looked down at the leaf and at the bloody chunks that lay on it. The chunks still contained the hairy hide of some animal. But Jenny controlled the recoil and picked up a small chunk and popped it in her mouth. She didn’t want to offend—daren’t offend.
Mum went to the back of the cave and disappeared through a gap in the wall. As soon as she was gone, Jenny took her food over to the cavewoman and offered it to her. She didn’t immediately take it, sniffed it first, but then took the thick leaf with a hairy but gentle hand. She tucked into the meat, and ate the leaf as though starved. She grinned at Jenny when she’d finished, burped, and grinned some more.
Jenny went back to her side of the cave. Diana was stirring. Behind her was the net bag of provisions they’d brought with them. Inside, wrapped up in the cloth, was a first aid kit, her shoes and fur poncho, several tins of dehydrated food (leftover from the Itor spaceship), a bundle of soft furry animal hide clothes for the baby, squares of muslin for nappies and a body harness to carry Diana. There was also a small fur ‘teddy’, which she’d made several months ago. Fly had laughed, she remembered, and said it looked like an elecat. Her smile waned, and then she was crying, she picked up Diana and hugged her tightly against her body, breathing in her scent, and wondered why Fly hadn’t returned.
There had been lots of howling and activity during the night, and Jenny was tired. She welcomed the tiredness, because when she was asleep she couldn’t worry about Fly, and when she woke he’d be back with tales of how the buggy wouldn’t start and how he had to push it out of the jungle with his bare, beautiful, hands. He’d be sorry for missing the birth, but she’d forgive him. They’d lie together on the furs with baby Diana between them, each holding one of her tiny hands.
Jenny fell into slumber but all too soon, Diana woke her, snuffling and looking for food. When it didn’t come quick enough her little mouth opened in a wail.
Jenny fed and then swaddled her in fur. She hadn’t known what to do with the dirtied nappy and had left it at the cave entrance. It had gone now. She made the baby comfortable in the soft nest, and looked over at the only other occupant in the cave. The cavewoman was asleep and the baby was on her stomach, nestled in between her bulbous breasts. It was swaddled in fur so Jenny couldn’t see what they used for nappies—if anything.
Leaving Diana asleep, she moved to the mouth of the cave and parted the vine curtain. There wasn’t much movement outside. Two campfires were burning and a lone native man was building a stone wall over the top of a fire. The stones kept falling off, but he patiently built it up again. Then he placed cut vegetables on the top of the stone to let the smoke and heat soften them. He prodded them from time to time.
She swung her head to the other side of the camp and saw a small group of natives standing in a circle. They were stretching a bloodied hide while another rubbed something into it. It all looked peaceful.
Testing her reception, she crawled out, blinking in the daylight, and rose slowly as not to alarm any native. She looked to the one smoking his vegetables; he was staring into the smoke as if concentrating hard. The others weren’t looking her way either. She was sure she could walk out of the camp without them noticing her going. She reminded herself that she wasn’t a prisoner; Fly had brought her here for her protection. She leaned against the rock face as a cramping after-birth pain swelled up inside, reminding her that she wasn’t strong enough for anything just yet.
A howl from the cliff top made her duck down and scuttle back inside the cave. On her knees, she peered and watched as natives ran from neighbouring caves. The single howl had caused a flux of activity as the group of cave people dropped the hide they were cleaning, and the native tending to the fire grabbed a spear, stood up, scattering his vegetables.
Jenny’s head swung to the fluttering trees surrounding the dell as a loud group of honnards came crashing into the settlement. Between them, they carried someone. At first, Jenny’s heart stalled, thinking it was Fly, but it was a bleeding honnard, who was yelping in pain. They put him on the ground and shooed away a few hovering four-legged native wolves and the injured honnard became visible to her.
‘Bo…’ she said.
Mum came out of a cave entrance with her maracas and an all-black honnard hunkered down beside Bo and placed something on his chest. It was the effigy of her.
‘Oh my g—’
A naked man came into the glen. It was the alpha native; the leader that Fly had pointed out before, only now he was completely unclothed. He had body hair—a lot of body hair by human standards but apart from his slight stoop, over-long arms and a weird looking claw protruding from each of his heels he wouldn’t seem too out of place back on Earth.
He squatted next to Bo as Mum shook her maracas.
Jenny looked behind her, glancing briefly at her sleeping baby and then at her net bag, still spilled open to reveal its contents—and the first aid kit. She scooped it up, then stepped back out of the cave and into the glen. She caught her breath as yellow eyes snapped towards her, but forced her legs to move forward. She was in the centre of a pack of prehistoric people who were probably, in human evolution terms, only on the scale of Homo erectus.
She stopped as the naked leader stood at her approach and chuffed at her.
‘You need to invent pants,’ she said with a teeth-together smile. She looked at Bo, his chest, rising and falling in fast succession, was matted with dried blood.
‘Oh Bo,’ she said as she inched forward, and at the sound of her voice his head turned round. His eyes widened on seeing her, and very touchingly he raised a hand towards her.
She took his hand and squeezed it, then dropped her gaze to his injury.
‘Ji-ji,’ Bo said. ‘Chuff-huff, cher-lers cherth.’ He pulled his hand away and turned his head.
It seemed like an act of regret. Jenny sat back on her heels and studied the side of his face that was exposed to her.
‘We had to get you in the boat, Bo,’ she said. She looked at his chest. It had stopped bleeding. ‘What happened to you?’
‘Cher-lers, chuff-chuff,’ the alpha honnard said. He was sitting on his haunches at Bo’s feet. Bo looked at him, then replied in a language that Jenny had no knowledge of. She tentatively parted the hair on Bo’s chest to see the wound. She half expected him to snap at her but he continued to chuff and huff at the alpha. Beneath the hair, she could see pulsing muscle in the gaping wound. It looked like he’d been stabbed.
She opened the first aid kit. It had various homemade potions, swabs, threads, and needles made out of bone. She chose the anaesthetic and gently cleaned the wound. She was tentative at first but then became braver as Bo made no move to stop her. As well as cleaning the wound, the anaesthetic worked by numbing the area, so she supposed this helped. She threaded a needle, spilled more anaesthetic on the wound and set about stitching the gash together. Bo didn’t even flicker.
‘All finished.’
The alpha stopped talking and Bo turned his head towards her. His eyes dropped to her stomach.
‘Fari,’ he said.
Guessing he was referring to the baby, she touched her belly and then pointed to the cave. ‘Fari,’ she repeated.
Bo’s hairy face stretched into one of his grins. He ‘panted’ at her.
She smiled, recognising it as a happy sound. She moved back and collected the precious medication together. Then she rose to retreat back to the cave, but the naked leader stopped her.
‘Chi-chi,’ he said. He reached out and touched her hair. Then he looked at his fingers as if he expected them to come away different. Jenny had involuntary sucked in her breath at his touch, but forced a calm look on her face as he raised the hand he’d used to touch her hair with up to the sky.
‘Kernuff, chuff-chuff, bargi,’ he said.
Jenny looked around at the other natives as they repeated his words.
‘I’m not magic,’ she said. ‘I’m just me. Just a woman.’
The naked man knelt on the ground, and the others copied his movement. They all bowed their shaggy heads.
She turned a full circle, taking in the pinned effigies of her on various trees, the carved model of her in the centre of the camp and the necklaces many natives wore and also the red ‘hair’ adorning the staffs and spears.
‘Oh shit.’
She looked at the leader’s bent head, then reached down to touch his head. The shaggy hair was surprisingly soft under her fingertips. He looked up, his yellow eyes were unblinking and his slightly parted jaw was level with her stomach. He could disembowel her easily with his strong crushing teeth, but Jenny strengthened her touch by pressing her hand against his head.
‘Fly,’ she said. ‘Find… Ji-ji.’
‘Ji-ji, chuff-chuff, nardi,’ Bo chuffed behind her. Jenny didn’t turn around. She reached to her head, pulled a few strands of her hair out, and laid them on the kneeling native’s head so they hung over into his face. She stood back.
She wasn’t sure what to expect. What she wanted was for them to understand her appeal and find Fly. She was good with languages. She’d mastered Jelvian, and she could master theirs.
‘Zack,’ she said to the native. Her father was called Zack and it comforted her to name her new family. ‘What’s happened to Ji-ji?’
“Zack” reached up and found the hair strands. He rose with them in his hand. ‘Ji-ji nardi,’ he said. He crushed the hairs in his fist and raised it into the air. He opened his mouth and omitted a long howl.
His howl was followed by another and then another.
Jenny stepped backwards, looking around as all the natives howled at the sky.
She turned back to the cave, and for the moment, home.
Chapter Twenty
Jenny!
Fly woke with a jolt. He felt confused. He touched his head and his chains jangled. For a moment, he could remember her struggling and shouting for him as the Jelvias dragged her out of their home. But that was a dream. She was safe—for now.
He sat upright and looked around. It was night, and one of Eden’s moons, large and craterless, shone down casting its perpetual twilight. He was in the back of a trailer being jostled from side to side as it travelled over rough terrain. It was being pulled by a strange-looking animal. He hadn’t seen this creature before. Smaller than the cattle they used on t
heir prairie at home, but more streamlined as it seemingly tiptoed through the undergrowth.
Sitting astride the creature and steering it with reins was a man and in front of him was a long line of the same animals ridden by Jelvias. Not all had trailers, but those who had all carried something: dejected looking honnards or carcases of animals.
Fly tugged to feel the strength of the chains around his wrists. There was also a manacle around his neck, which looked to be attached to the rider of the animal pulling his trailer. His feet were also manacled together.
He looked to the rear, his trailer was the last, but he wasn’t familiar with the runaway scenery. As well as not knowing where he was, he didn’t know how long he’d been travelling. His eyes fell on the shell-necklace on the floor of the trailer. It was about to fall off the end. Trying to keep as still as possible so it didn’t alert the driver he was conscious he stretched his torso as far as the chain would allow and reached the necklace with his toes, drawing in his knees, until he could grab it with his hands. He tucked it clumsily into the waistband of his trousers.
Slowly, holding the chain still, he rose to his feet then inched forward to face the rump of the animal pulling the trailer. Seizing the chain in both hands, he jumped so both feet landed on the edge of the trailer, then launched himself forward.
The animal stumbled at his sudden distribution of weight, knocking both Fly and the rider off.
They rolled into the undergrowth as the animal and trailer trundled passed, and before the man could regain his wits, Fly had slit his throat.
From being tethered in the trailer to hiding in the scrub had taken seconds, and as the pounding hooves drifted into the distance, Fly fingered the manacle around his neck.
The band was the same type from the old prison ship, and his was attached to the dead man’s wrist. He cracked the man’s arm over his knee, making several thrusts until it detached from the body and he was able to slide the shackle off the severed limb.