Come follow me. There is great danger here!
Dave’s vision cleared.
This thing is trying to speak to me!
He realized it had been this small creature and its companions, roughly half his size, who had fired the arrows that had freed him.
The ape¬men were now dangerously close. There was no time to lose. He had to take a chance and trust these rescuers.
Dave followed the creature as quickly as he could, hoping it wouldn’t ask him to follow through an impossibly small hole. The creatures were mammalian, about three feet tall, and had long prehensile tails with a knob or tuft at the end. Their glistening fur was dark, but they wore clothing, which looked like primitive leather body armor. They carried belts with knives, small bows and quivers of arrows over their backs. For all his fear of his ferocious pursuers, Dave smiled at the appearance of these creatures that had saved him.
His guide led him into a crevice at the side of the chamber. The crevice became a high, narrow passage that climbed steeply. Thirty feet into the passage, Dave was dismayed to see the creature disappear into a very small opening. He looked at the hole dubiously but decided he had to try it, even if he became stuck. Dave squirmed through the opening and down a narrow tunnel, which ended in a gallery of sorts.
As he climbed out and stretched himself to his full height, he saw about twenty of the creatures waiting for him. They all had bows in their hands and knives in their belts but didn‘t seem to be afraid of him. One of them slowly approached and placed its hand on his arm. Again, he received a communication.
You must come with us! You are not safe here; they will try and get you. Follow us. Do not be afraid, for we are brothers.
What an odd thing to say! How could we be brothers? I’m sure you’re much more closely related to a raccoon or a badger than to me.
At that moment some of the lumbering ape¬men emerged from the tunnel. Dave’s furry companions quickly formed ranks and began shooting.
It can’t be!
The furry creatures shot rapidly with their arms. The tuft of fur on the end of their prehensile tails was actually a third hand, which they used to pull arrows from their quivers, ready for the next volley. This additional hand was so alien, so unexpected, that it filled him with a kind of revulsion. Several of the ape¬men fell but were quickly replaced by others.
Finally one of the furry creatures gave a cry of command, and a group of them retreated to a ledge at the far end of the gallery. At a second command, Dave, urged by the rest of the troop, mastered himself and climbed behind the rear guard to an opening at the very back of the gallery. Together, Dave and the troop began another climb up a long side passage. It was not a difficult climb but changed direction several times inside the mountain wall. Dave was completely disoriented by the many turns and side passages. Sometimes he felt a breath of fresh air. Other times, he heard the sound of dripping water. His furry companions ignored the side passages and kept to the main tunnel with single-minded determination.
They emerged onto a large shelf, which overlooked a hidden valley inside the mountain, hundreds of feet below. The mountain, like the throat of an extinct volcano, was nearly vertical, with a circular opening to the sky 2,000 feet above the valley floor. The valley floor, which was about two miles across, was filled with subdued daylight and was covered with mounds. Some of these mounds were gray, while others were a sickly green in the dull light.
Dave could see ape¬men lumbering back and forth across the valley floor. They were carrying the bodies of their dead into the cavern in the manner of a funeral procession, six pallbearers per body. Stopping beside a green mound, they would deposit the body on the ground. As the bearers retreated, the mound would open up, like a poisonous green rose moving from bud to flower in a matter of seconds. A long green appendage would reach out, grasp the body of the lifeless ape¬man, and lift it easily into the center of the mound. Unlike a rose, the inside was the same rancid green as the outside. The open plant intensified the pungent, sickly smell of death that filled the cavern. In a few moments the leaves would close on the body and the mound would resume its nearly spherical shape. Good grief! Is that what they had intended for me? One of the furry creatures touched Dave’s arm, interrupting his thoughts and beckoned him to follow.
The next part of the journey took several hours. The furry companions took out several luminous gourds, which they held high above their heads using the hands at the end of their tails. In the places where the natural greenish glow of the caverns faded, these gourds provided enough light to negotiate the dark passages. There were so many side passages that Dave wouldn’t have been able to retrace his steps. At one point they crossed a ledge that skirted the wall of a very large, dark cavern, so large that the gourd lights did not find either the roof or the distant walls.
When they had crossed this treacherous ledge, the party halted and the creatures began speaking to one another in low voices. One of them approached Dave with a luminous gourd, a skin of water, and food that had the consistency of rough cornbread. The creature put the food next to Dave and placed its hand on his arm.
Eat and drink. You will need your strength for the rest of your journey.
After a short break, the party resumed their journey. They entered a long shaft littered with broken rocks and boulders. Every now and then, a deep crevice would open up at their feet, and they would pick their way along the shaft wall to the other side. Their gradual descent took them ever closer to a dull vibration like the roll of continuous thunder, which increased in intensity with every step.
Finally they entered a cavern. A river shot out of an opening high on the cavern wall and plunged like thunder into a wide subterranean lake. A number of the creatures pulled several boats from behind a large rock over golden sand to the lake. After an animated discussion among the little folk, complete with frequent finger pointing in Dave’s direction, two of the creatures beckoned him to the largest boat, which another two creatures steadied in the shallow water. They motioned for him to climb in and lie down. He climbed in, but refused the humiliation of lying down. His recalcitrance caused further animated discussion. Finally they seemed to give up, climbed onto the bow and stern of the boat, and began to paddle down the lake. The other boats were swifter and soon passed them.
Rounding the bend, Dave saw a dull patch of daylight in the distance. This patch grew steadily until the boat emerged into the evening gloom. The lake was long and narrow, winding through the long mountain valley like a snake. On the right the mountains rose steeply. Across the lake, on the left, a village of thatched huts was nestled at the base of tree-clad hills. The paddlers made good speed since the gusting wind was behind them.
As they approached the wharf, villagers gathered along the shore. A few feet out, the paddlers stopped, and the villagers welcomed them with joyous song. The weary paddlers answered with a song of their own. The singers had unexpectedly deep voices for creatures of such small stature. The effect, carrying easily over the water, was one of a mass choir jubilant to be reunited after an absence involving risks as real as they were necessary. This experience changed Dave’s view of the creatures. Despite their difference in size and looks, they were kindred spirits, because they obviously appreciated beautiful music with a reverence that touched on the core of what made Dave human. Somehow they did not seem as alien as before.
The welcome complete, the boats pulled alongside the wharf, and everyone disembarked. A creature came alongside Dave and placed its hand on his arm, telling him to follow. The creature took him to one of many thatched huts on a promontory in that part of the village closest to the cave entrance. The thatched structure proved to be more of a veranda than a hut. At the back was a low square entrance to a tunnel, which Dave surmised was the creature’s living quarters. The family was just sitting down to a meal. They gestured for Dave to join them. There was no table. Everything was spread out on a large blanket, picnic style.
The creatures seemed to have a lov
e of food completely disproportionate to their size. There were vegetables, fish, some kind of fowl, and a large side of something that reminded Dave of ham. The adult creatures ate more than Dave, and even the cubs seemed more than able to hold their own. Just as Dave thought the meal was over, nuts and pastry were brought out and passed around.
After the meal, all of the cubs gathered around an old grizzled creature, who spoke to them at length by the fire pit. While the children were entertained, the adults of the village began construction of a much larger dwelling, which was completely closed in, unlike the open veranda that Dave was enjoying. The rapidity of their movements as they tied poles and sheaves of grass together, and the song that they sang as they worked, made the task go quickly.
The construction complete, the creatures led Dave into his new one room home. After gesturing his thanks, he lay down on the grass mat they had provided for him and was asleep almost before they left. Even a frightful crack of thunder in the mountains did not interrupt his untroubled sleep.
Chapter 29 Higher Education
Dave awoke the next morning to the squeals of animals chasing each other. He looked around at the grass and pole walls, and then at the mat that he had slept on, and the memories of the previous night came flooding back. He had slept soundly and felt thoroughly refreshed, although his head still ached a little.
He opened the door and heard the cubs squealing as they raced around the house in some game of hide-and-seek. Two others were wrestling. They wrestled like two small boys, grabbing at each other’s shoulders and trying to throw one another down. But their curious third hands were balled into hairy fists at the end of their tails, and every once in a while a fist would come whipping by like a club and land a solid wallop on the opponent’s back.
After Dave had watched for a short time, one of the adult creatures (he could tell she was a female by her attire) working on a garment on the veranda in the next dwelling noticed him, put down her work, and came toward him tentatively. Dave knew she was trying to communicate, and so he let her touch his arm. A message came into his mind: Come and eat!
He followed the creature to the veranda, where yesterday’s picnic blanket had been replaced by a child’s play table, complete with tiny chairs. It was the family table, but it would not answer for him.
The creature did not realize the problem until she saw Dave and the table together. She disappeared into the entrance of their den at the back of the veranda and soon returned with another creature, the two of them dragging a large wooden structure, intricately carved. Dave went over to help and lifted the waist high structure easily, since it was very light. This set off more chatter among the creatures. They returned to the burrow and carried out a small empty armoire, which was approximately the right height for a seat.
Dave sat down at his new table and watched as the creatures brought him breakfast, eggs and delicious mashed potatoes seasoned with a sauce he’d never tasted before. There was honey and milk, but he very much missed his morning cup of tea. He had more than enough food to eat, but no sooner had he finished than the creatures brought the same amount of food again. He waved it away, using pantomime to show that he really couldn’t eat any more.
When they were finally convinced, they took away the food and replaced it with a jug of brown liquid. Dave settled back, leaning against the support pole of the veranda. The veranda was on the side of a hill overlooking the lake. A green meadow that formed a broad step in the side of the hill stretched out before him, dotted with yellow buttercups, dandelions, and daffodils. At the foot of the hill, cubs were frolicking at the water’s edge, diving into the lake with reckless abandon amid the shrieking of their peers. Off to his right, a dark mountain loomed menacingly. At the base he could just make out the tunnel from yesterday’s journey. Off to the left, he could barely make out the other cottages in the village. The village had been planned so that each cottage was hidden among the trees and separated by gardens, providing a good deal of privacy.
When he had finished the brown drink, a creature approached and gingerly touched his arm. Please come with me.
He followed the creature up the hill to a large tree, where it climbed a ladder into the tree, beckoning Dave to follow. He gingerly put his foot on the rung, expecting it to collapse under his weight, but it was surprisingly strong and carried him without even noticeably bending. When he reached the top, he came to a large platform that provided a wonderful view of the lake and the village.
The creature sat down on the mat in the center of the platform and beckoned Dave to sit down as well. It handed him a small section of slate and a piece of chalk.
So, my “higher education” begins! It amused him that the pupil towered over the teacher to a ridiculous degree.
The creature pointed to himself and said, “Hanomer.”
Dave pointed to himself and said, “Dave.”
The creature next pointed to himself and then to various dwellings around the village and said, “Hansa.”
__________
Two months had passed since Dave had been rescued by the Hansa. To his way of thinking he had become fluent in their tongue, even though Hanomer informed him he had a long way to go if he were to develop his gifts as a composer and a poet.
Dave was sitting on his veranda drinking his morning siph, the brown drink he had had when he’d first arrived in the village. Siph had become one of his favorites, and he enjoyed some every day. No one would come to visit before he had finished his siph and had had his morning time of tranquility, as they called it. It was customary to allow everyone, even the children, a time of quiet reflection in the morning, and it was considered rude and inappropriate to disturb the morning tranquility unless there was an emergency. Dave listened as the birds sang, and saw the glint of the sun on the lake below him. His heart was filled with a quiet joy he did not really understand. He did not delve into this too deeply, for fear of destroying the magic of the moment by introspection.
He took out his crossbow and short sword. They were the wonder of the village. Even though they were held in great esteem, they had been returned to him as soon as they knew he was a friend. The new bolts he had fabricated while at the village were carefully unwrapped. The crude iron heads looked impotent next to the steel bolts he had brought from Halcyon.
“Hello, friend Dave!” said Hanomer, bowing low. The Hansa normally spoke using audible speech, reserving touch mediated telepathy for times when absolute quiet was demanded.
“Greetings, friend Hanomer,” said Dave, rising and returning the bow. “Please come and take a seat.”
“Why are you dressed for battle, friend Hanomer?” asked Dave after Hanomer had settled.
“I have come to tell you we cannot meet today for our lesson.”
“Where are you going, friend Hanomer?”
“A rokash has been spotted in the next valley,” said Hanomer.
“What is a rokash?” asked Dave.
“A rokash is a creature from the elder days. It stands about fifty hands high. It runs and leaps on two powerful legs. It has a large head with powerful jaws and can kill with jaw, claw, or tail,” said Hanomer.
“I would like to go along,” said Dave, yearning for an adventure after two months of study.
“That would be foolish, friend Dave, since the rokash is exceedingly dangerous, and your skill in the hunt is not yet highly developed.”
“Not highly developed!” exclaimed Dave. “Among my people I’m considered a woodsman of the first order.” Hanomer did not answer. “Your people have rescued me and shown me hospitality these past two months. The code of honor of my people demands that I contribute in some small way to the defense of the village,” continued Dave.
Hanomer was thinking. Dave knew that a call to honor was the strongest argument he could make. Finally Hanomer said, “Honor makes a strong call on any man, and there is justice in your claim. We take some of the older boys along and leave them with guards so they can observe without getting th
emselves and others into danger. You may stay with them. That should satisfy the claims of honor.”
Dave began to protest, but Hanomer raised his little hand. “Stay!” he said. “To ask for more is to endanger the whole company. The rokash will know that you have little woodcraft and will target you first. The hunt is already very dangerous. If you were to hunt the rokash you would not only put yourself but the whole company into even greater danger. Surely the code of honor of your people cannot demand that?”
Sometimes the kindness and generosity of Hanomer made Dave forget that he could be as tough as an old tree root when the situation demanded it. “I accept your offer with thanks, friend Hanomer. When do we leave?”
“Get your weapons, food, and water skin. The others are gathering in the upper town meadow even as we speak,” said Hanomer.
While Hanomer proceeded to the gathering, Dave quickly strapped on his sword belt and picked up his crossbow. He hunted and found his heavy boots but could not find his water skin. Endowyn, Hanomer’s wife, came with a water skin and a food pack, which Dave gratefully stuffed into his knapsack. He had started to run off when Endowyn called to him and gave him his hat.
“Dave, do not let your impetuosity get the better of you!” she warned, standing with her hands upon her hips, her prehensile tail twitching.
The Halcyon Dislocation Page 23