“I have,” Robfebe began in a matter-of-fact tone, “and as expected, they have evolved on a parallel course with those of the seed. They are anatomically the same, with, of course, the exception of not carrying the marker gene. I am sure they have interbred with those of the seed, but the marker gene can only be passed to offspring of parents who both carry the gene. So, the naturals are human and will continue to breed, but they will lack the intelligence of those of the seed. If histories on other planets hold true here, they will at some time in the future threaten the biosphere of the planet. And then . . .” Robfebe opened a hand to her front and shook her head resolutely.
Barjeen reached over and gently squeezed her palm. “You know it is not something I relish doing to a naturally evolved human species, but the choice is not mine. If the evolved naturals threaten the biosphere of this nearly perfect planet with overbreeding and destructive technologies, they will have to be . . . prevented.”
“I know,” Robfebe uttered softly. “I know.”
Barjeen guided the gravaeron up and around, heading back to the colossal mothership. “Have you located any remaining hominid species?”
“In fact, we have,” Robfebe began. “There is one near-human subspecies left, but it’s dying off quickly. Their immune systems have been compromised and weakened by inbreeding. They mostly forage, and when nearing starvation, will eat their dead. From what we can tell, they have come into violent conflict with the humans who try to avoid them, but that will change after we introduce modified specimens with enhanced self-preservation. Then avoidance will be overridden with preservation by aggression. There are groups of the subspecies in this area, but we haven’t found any elsewhere. I suspect this area contains all that is left of them, and when they are gone, only humans of the seed and the naturals will remain.”
“Good,” Barjeen responded, “then we will be one step closer to making this planet a colony of Kalpeon. Now, you said you are reinserting two tomorrow, correct?”
“Yes, a man and a woman,” Robfebe answered.
“Have them and any others retrieved from this area fitted with monitoring sensors. They will be our core specimens for tracking developmental progress. If they survive, they and others like them will someday be granted stewardship and be given the option of living the way of a Kalpeon colonial planet. It will be their choice, but for now it is time for them to learn—especially about the ways of humans who are not spawn of Kalpeon. And be sure to mark their palms with the sign of modified specimens. In time they’ll learn to use it to identify with others of the seed.”
Barjeen accelerated the gravaeron forward as Robfebe thought of any additional modifications that might be needed for the two that were going to be reinserted the following morning.
12
Ott regained consciousness at the sound of the gurgling stream. Within seconds he recognized his surroundings. From the damp rocky ledge, he peered down at the clear pool twenty feet below and the murky bog farther to the right. Many times, he and the other hunters had bathed and refreshed themselves in the cool waters of the pool fed by the stream that splashed from above. The ledge from which he viewed the pool was accessible only by a thirty-foot climb up a slippery rock face to his rear. No predatory beast could possibly make the climb. As total consciousness flooded back, he was confused, yet at the same time he experienced a strange confidence. He rose to a partial sitting position and pivoted to his right. No more than five feet away was Cha, naked and staring back. They sat silent and motionless for a few seconds, and then their eyes darted to the forest area below at the rustling brush and the short, guttural shouts all the Cro-Magnon had come to know and fear since they had found their way to this new land.
Instinctively, they scrambled to the backside of the ledge. The shouting stopped. There was movement in the underbrush. Something was headed toward the water. As they watched, thick foliage at the far side of the pool exploded with movement, and a huge beast—an auroch—stumbled at a full run into the shallow water. The beast floundered under its weight and mired in the thick mud up to its belly. Thrashing, it jerked and arched its head to regain movement. It struggled for several moments, then finally stood swaying its massive head back and forth. Its four-foot curved horns flickered white in stark contrast to the brackish green bog. Aside from the swaying head, the animal stood motionless, nearing exhaustion.
At the far side of the pool, a low, crouching form emerged from the edge of the forest. The broad-shouldered figure remained crouched for a few seconds, watching the beast, then stood upright, glancing back and forth between the animal and the perimeter of the bog. He was barrel-chested, shorter in stature than any of the Cro-Magnon, and possessed a face that jutted forward in an offensive aggressiveness. His arms were disproportionately long for the short, massive torso and thick with large, knotted muscles. His black hair hung loose to the top of the brown fur wrap tied at his waist. Cha and Ott stared at the huge stone-tipped club axe he held in both hands.
A still silence hung over the bog as another figure slipped from the forest, followed by two others. Within moments, all four dotted the far rim of the bog. They acknowledged each other by slowly raising and lowering their spears and axes. Quietly, they stepped around the pool until they ringed the perimeter and encircled the animal. One by one they entered the water, sinking halfway to their knees in the muddy bottom. Tightening the circle, they closed around the motionless beast. The only sound was the gurgling of the stream.
Cha whispered, “Prog.” The clan of Malan had encountered the Prog many times over their years of wandering. Normally they passed in groups, moving through the forest and exchanging only glances. Their physical appearances were obvious and presented an immediate psychological impediment to comingling.
Over the millennia, the two species had developed a coexistence based on mutual avoidance. But as time passed and more groups of Cro-Magnons settled in game-abundant areas, the Prog viewed the newcomers as invaders and reacted with a sporadic and savage violence. In a chance encounter of equal numbers, the Cro-Magnons were no match for the muscular Prog with their massive club axes. Many bodies of Cro-Magnon men who had become separated from groups were found with their arms shattered from warding off club blows; their bludgeoned and crushed heads were no longer recognizable. Most recently, the wanton attacks by the Prog had degenerated to actual predation. Bodies were found with arm and leg portions removed for easy transport. The Prog were butchering their victims.
Cha and Ott thought of missing members of the clan as they watched the Prog in the water below. Two of the men gripped eight-foot thrusting spears tipped with carefully napped flint heads held fast in notches and further secured with wrapped sinew. The other two carried club axes. The men carrying the spears flanked the beast while the remaining two approached the animal from the front, each slightly to one side of the menacing horns. The men facing the animal waded within striking distance and slowly raised their axes. The stone heads secured to the four-foot clubs were twice the size of a fist and chipped to form a sharp, jagged ridge that encircled the stone. The massive weapons would at once deliver a penetrating and powerful blow.
The onslaught was quick and truculent. The axe heads slammed down between the eyes of the auroch as the other Prog lunged with powerful thrusts, burying their spearheads in the neck and rear torso of the frantic animal. The huge beast thrashed in the mire, swinging its head wildly before slumping to its side.
The murky water swirled crimson as the Prog watched the animal’s death throes. When all movement ceased, they moved to the neck area and pulled the carcass to dry land. With nothing more than brute strength, they hauled the animal up the slight bank and positioned it on its back with each leg held high. The leader began opening the stomach cavity with a short flint knife.
The sun was directly overhead when Cha and Ott slid undetected from the rear of their perch and slipped into the forest. In a slight crouch, they moved at a steady trot toward the cave.
13
The day was warm, and the lack of fur wrappings didn’t bother Cha and Ott as much as the naked feeling of not carrying familiar weapons. The chance of coming upon dangerous predators was always possible, but not probable since most of the big cats and wolf packs prowled at night. They scanned the forest in all directions for what they feared most: the Prog. Both knew the certain fate of encountering the Prog without weapons, and both would rather face any four-legged predator. Soon they approached the entrance to the long, treeless valley that gave way to the incline leading to the cave escarpment. The entire valley floor was crisscrossed with long, undulating mounds up to ten feet high and covered in thick, knee-high, flaxen grass.
The valley provided the shortest route back. Cha and Ott had traveled through it many times, but never in a group of less than ten and never without weapons. That they would encounter animals was almost a certainty. The valley was lush with the tall grazing grass. The herd animals were of minor concern. Bison and various species of deer and antelope would scatter or simply trot off at the scent or sight of the Cro-Magnon. But the predators were a different matter.
Squatting in the forest at the edge of the grass leading to the valley, Cha and Ott considered their options. They could stay out of the open valley and travel concealed in the forest, but it was a more circuitous route back. With the sun sliding low in the sky, it would leave them in the forest after dark when the nocturnal predators began prowling. And what they saw next eliminated that option.
The forest interior was dusky with long shadows, but Cha and Ott had little difficulty identifying the gray forms lumbering in their direction. The Prog had spotted them and were coming fast through the trees. If they were overtaken, it was certain death. Ott’s eyes darted between the Prog and Cha’s face. The fear rising in him was more for her than himself. He squeezed her shoulder and pushed her forward into the long grass.
Setting their direction was easy enough. The high escarpment that loomed at the end of the valley was an easy visual beacon, but a straight line of travel was impossible due to the undulating topography. It was like moving through a huge natural maze. They could travel in a straight line by traversing the ground swells, but it was tiring and slowed their speed. Moving through the low swales was easy and faster, but they curved and switchbacked, also making forward progress slow.
The spreading sunlight danced off the waving grass, creating a brilliant sea of yellow. The knee-high grass heightened the feel of the run as they moved steadily through the valley. They had been running for the better part of an hour when they reached the incline leading up to the cave. They slowed their pace, gulped in deep breaths, and looked to each other. They would make it. The cliff loomed before them. They jogged forward again and then pulled to a stop as a loud, barking huff broke the silence. Something was approaching from the blind curve to their front. They locked eyes and then climbed to the top of the ridge and crouched. A bear ambled around the curve in a slow, pigeon-footed gait, its snout poking upward with short grunts. It was hunting by scent. Its cinnamon-colored coat shimmered and rolled with every step. Directly below it stopped, dropped back on its haunches, and continued sniffing, its head back and snout pointed straight up. Cha and Ott remained motionless as the slight breeze waved the grass in their direction and their scent away from the bear. They sat silently as time crawled by. After several moments, the huge animal rose and started up the incline. It walked to a spot no more than a few yards from where they lay, straining not to move. Suddenly it stopped, swung its head high, and reared to its full height. With a prolonged angry growl, it dropped to all fours and charged down the incline and into the swale.
Crouched on a rise within sight of Cha and Ott, the Prog watched the bear below them. Ott and Cha watched as the Prog stood, looked back at them, and started forward. They knew the time spent avoiding the bear would give the Prog time to close the distance between them, but there had been no choice. Now they readied themselves for an all-out run for their lives.
But Cha stood bolt upright, fists clenched at her sides. Her face flushed red and her jaw muscles twitched as she inhaled heavily through her nose, turned, and squinted back toward the Prog. For the first time in her life, she experienced an anger that bordered on rage. The emotions welled up, replacing what would have previously been fear. Cha was experiencing an awakening dimension of her consciousness, an awakening brought about by the return of a starship that had first visited the planet over sixty-five million years in the past. Only at Ott’s urging did she finally turn and trot toward the escarpment that marked the end of the valley.
14
As they rounded a blind curve at a full run, Ott stumbled and slammed to the ground. Cha tumbled over him and rolled to his front. Panting and nearing exhaustion, they scrambled to their feet and kept moving. The Prog were close, and to stop meant a brutal death. The dunes paralleling the path diminished in height as they neared another curve that gave way to an opening and the incline leading to the cave at the top. Grasping hands, they rounded the curve, pounded forward, and pushed into the open, where they pulled to a stumbling stop. No more than a few yards away stood three Prog who looked as surprised as Cha and Ott. The Prog stared at the naked prey. Then they rushed forward as Cha and Ott wheeled and scrambled away.
Ott pushed off hard, but lost his footing on the smooth, worn path and stumbled forward, sliding on his hands and knees. Scrambling on all fours, he crabbed back and away. Cha bounded forward a few steps and glanced back as the largest of the Prog, in a low, rocking gait, gained on Ott. In seconds, he closed the distance and swung the heavy club axe with one hand. The club head glanced off the incline and slammed into Ott’s right shoulder. The blow and his own momentum rolled Ott over. He managed to scramble a few more yards as the Prog regained his balance and continued toward him.
Immediately the other two started in Cha’s direction. As she stepped back she heard shouts. Looking over her shoulder, she spotted Malan, Ahru, and several other men cresting the nearest mound just yards away. The moment froze as the two groups stared silently at each other. Never had the two species confronted each other in such an openly hostile setting.
Both groups stood motionless, indecisive. Then the largest of the Prog took a tentative step toward Ott and raised his club.
In the same instant, Cha grasped the spear of the man standing to the right of Malan and turned toward the Prog approaching Ott. With long, slow strides she started toward him. Quickening her pace, she raised the flint-tipped spear above her head, and as the Prog raised his club, she twisted her torso for momentum and launched the spear at less than ten yards away.
The Prog flinched to the right as the flint tip impacted directly below his jaw and penetrated his short, thick neck. Rocking forward, he grasped the shaft in his left hand as a plume of blood spurted from the gaping wound. The Prog mouthed a silent scream and stepped forward before dropping to his knees and pitching forward on his face at Cha’s feet.
Not a sound was uttered, and no one moved for several seconds. Then Cha kneeled and ripped the spear from the dead Prog’s twitching hand. The other two Prog quickly turned and disappeared into the dark mounds.
Malan and the other men stood quiet for a moment before encircling Cha and Ott. Several of the men removed portions of their wraps and handed them to the naked couple.
At the top of the incline, the beacon fire burned bright as the group closed ranks and headed for its safety. Two of the men helped support Ott as he hobbled along. The wound from the club axe had left a deep gash running from his shoulder blade to the middle of his back. Blood ran down his back and streaked rivulets down the length of his leg. The pain was intense and made walking difficult. Cha walked in silence between Malan and Ahru, clutching the spear in her right hand.
As the night closed around them, the group walked at a steady pace and reached the cave without incident. Ott and Cha proceeded to their hearth and reclined on the thick array of bison and bear hides that covered their sleeping are
a. The pain of Ott’s wound had surprisingly subsided, and he sat quietly. Nin, the medicine woman, prepared a salve of various herbs mixed with animal fat. As she leaned to apply the salve, she stopped and motioned to Ahru, Malan, and others who had gathered. They stared at Ott’s back. The wound had stopped bleeding entirely, and the deep gash had glossed over with a pinkish sheen. What had been a potentially life-threatening wound a short time before was now partially healed.
Ott sat still as the medicine woman dabbed the salve onto his wound. The others exchanged confused glances. Ahru ran his fingers over the wound, but offered no explanation. The large, stone-lined hearth that belonged to Ott and Cha was rekindled, and soon the group basked in the warmth of a crackling fire. But even the comfort and warmth of the cave could not diminish the confusion, fear, and agitation that permeated the collective consciousness of the entire group. They had no basis for explaining the phenomenon of the lights or Ott and Cha’s strange disappearance and reappearance. The confrontation with the Prog and Cha’s aggressive domination were firmly ingrained in the minds of those who had witnessed it. They now viewed Cha and Ott with growing confusion.
Later that night, the group shared a communal meal of roasted bison, wild cabbage, and various nuts. The meal helped quiet the emotional turmoil running rampant, and the group eventually dispersed to the numerous sleeping hearths situated throughout the cave. At their hearth, Cha and Ott sat quietly communicating with familiar gestures and low-spoken words that formed the small but adequate basis of the Cro-Magnon’s language. They had both discovered a strange mark shaped like a figure eight that covered a small area on their palms below the thumb joint. They had no idea how it got there or what it meant. Neither had any recollection from the night of the lights until they had woken on the ridge.
The Way of the Seed_Earth Spawn of Kalpeon Page 4