by Brian King
“You cut this by hand?” Trel said when she saw tree number two lying on the ground.
“We cut it at the base, then chopped it at about ten feet,” I said. It bothered me that I might have missed a better way to do it, and I tried to think of alternatives, but I kept coming back to bigger axes or making some sort of giant saw.
Trel studied the tree, and I distinctly noticed her eyes flicker in the Eye-Q again.
“You can save a lot of labor if you lit a fire. Just as you used a flame to burn a hole in your axe, you can use it to break the trunk in two,” Trel suggested.
“Won’t that take a long time?” I asked while thinking of how long it took to burn one little hole in my axe.
“Drop multiple trees. Start multiple fires. Even if it takes all day to burn through the trees, it will still save you energy and improve efficiency in the long run. Ugh, why don’t you know this?” Trel sighed dismissively as if I’d skipped the logging portion of my high school education.
“Won’t the smoke bring in dinosaurs?” I asked as I ignored her last question.
“The smoke may also chase them away,” the black-haired woman suggested.
“Hah, I think that’s a great idea,” I said.
“Of course it is a great idea,” she snickered. “I thought of it, after all.”
“Trel, do you mind if I ask why you have your Eye-Q open?” I continued in my most polite voice.
“Well, once you showed us how you used the interface to identify and interact with your dinosaurs, I left the interface open because more data is always better,” she replied while tapping a long, bony finger against her temple. “I don’t know how it does it, but I’m able to see things in a new way. I have a lot of my genius ideas without the computer, too. This just makes it seem to go faster.”
It was my turn to snap my fingers together.
“Fuck, I bet that’s the key,” I said as I addressed Sheela. “Do you ever turn on the Eye-Q?”
“I have turned it on, but mostly have it off because I do not like the interference in my vision,” Sheela replied.
“Even in combat?” I asked.
“Especially in combat,” she said. “I need to stay focused.”
“Next time you’re in a fight, turn it on,” I suggested. “I think it has to be on for your skill to work properly. I’ve been turning mine on to get ID’s of dinosaurs and to confirm my Tame was working, but it looks like there is more to it. I think it has to be running to first use our special abilities.”
I turned mine back on, and I was never going to turn it off again.
“Trel, what do you see in your interface when you look at where our fort is going to be?” I asked while I pointed to the surrounding ground.
“Nothing,” she replied while looking down. “I just see the forest floor.”
“Okay, what about right here,” I pointed to the lone pole butted up against the bark of the sequoia.
“Nothing, though I’ve had a thought.” The beautiful spider woman rubbed her chin with her chitinous claws as if thinking hard. “To make a swinging dinosaur door, you’ll need two extra tall logs set about five feet apart with large holes drilled through the tops. Get a small, straight tree trunk and hang it across this space by pushing it through those holes. Then you’ll need to build a door by lashing smaller logs together in a rectangle and tie it onto the crossbar. The door will swing back and forth so Hope can pass through in each direction. Then we can place locking posts into the ground to keep it from swinging inward. That way attacking dinosaurs cannot come inside, but we can pull them out of the ground to let Hope in. Simple.”
“And we’ll need a dino lock so no one steals her,” I added as if we were storing a rare car in a garage back home.
“That goes without saying,” Trel said with a light-hearted laugh.
“Trel, thank you. You totally rock.”
“Galmine is the rock-girl.” Trel frowned.
“Uhh. When I say ‘rock’ it means you are great or wonderful,” I explained.
“Of course I am, and beautiful.”
“Yeah, well, thanks again.”
“You’re welcome,” Trel replied as if testing the phrase. Her mouth twisted a bit, and then the sides of her lips lifted.
We finally had Trel onboard.
I spent the rest of the day trying to figure out the limits of Trel's abilities. I had her watch us cut down more trees, tow the logs, dig the holes, and outline the first parts of the wall at the start of our circle shape.
In some cases, she had no suggestions at all. She didn’t see any room for improvement in how we’d tied off the tow line on Hope, though I wondered if that was because she created the rope harness in the first place. Trel didn’t seem happy with Hope’s temporary enclosure but accepted it was the best we could do given our resources. She even complimented me on the tree-barrier-door idea and hinted that she couldn’t have done better herself.
“Hope and I can bring over lots of the treetops we’ve cut off, but where should I put them?” I asked Trel as we took our afternoon break.
We stood on the line I’d drawn in the dirt to represent where we were putting the walls. Hope was in the grove nearby and lifted her head at hearing her name, but put it right back down into some ferns.
Trel seemed to study the forest, and I wondered if her Eye-Q was feeding her suggestions or if she saw what she wanted to build. Whenever I asked for specifics about it, she repeated her earlier claim that it didn’t show anything to her, but often that was when she got an idea as if it was dropped into her thought process. I figured it amplified the skill already in her analytical brain, just like my Tame ability tapped into my lifelong love for animals.
“The most efficient pattern would be to place them in several rings around the fort. Start with a ring about ten yards away, then a second ring about twenty yards out, and a final ring that is anchored by those trees over there.” She pointed to the next of the great redwood giants, which was about fifty yards from our home tree.
“More circles,” I said with a knowing laugh.
“Yes,” she agreed with her own bit of laughter. “You are finally getting it. Each ring will reinforce the others and keep us safe here in the middle.”
“Yeah. Well, as much as I love the idea, those outer circles will have to come last,” I replied. “First, we do the walls and hut, then the fancy defenses.” Once we beat the clock against those damned birds with a basic wall, we’d have the time to go all out with upgrades.
“Of course,” Trel replied in a pleasant voice before adding, “male.”
“Oh, that’s how it’s going to be?” I chuckled.
“Well, you asked for my help, so it’s going to cost you one way or another,” she said with an ominous laugh.
We stood there for a few more seconds in our moment when I felt a tap on my shoulder. Sheela held out the bow and quiver of arrows I’d left on the ground not far away.
“What’s going on?” I said in a quiet voice.
“The birds are on the move,” she said in an equally low tone. “I think they are going to attack.”
The three of us got closer to our home sequoia and Sheela pointed straight up. The familiar orange and black colors were sprinkled on many branches high above.
“Those things don’t give up, do they?” I growled.
“They never will,” Sheela said with a bit of sadness. “More and more will show up.”
“It’s alright. We got this,” I said while checking for more birds in other trees. As best as I could tell, they were only up in the pine canopy directly above our fort. However, there were more than the eight or so we’d faced the day before. Sheela said they would keep adding to their numbers as part of their scouting process.
“Is Galmine safe?” I whispered while we watched.
“I closed the door when I left,” Trel replied. “She is safe, for now.”
My other concern was Hope, but she remained behind us near the leafy green patch of
ferns where she liked to go when I didn’t need her. As expected, she showed no concern at all for the rising war cries of the birds above us, and I channeled her calm to steady my growing nervousness.
“We wanted to test our bows, so I guess we now have the time,” I said in jest. We’d talked about setting up a target range and testing both bows we’d made the previous night, but other projects sapped all our time today.
“Shooting is very easy. Take a deep breath, and use three fingers to pull the string back to the same point on your jaw each time; exhale some of the air in your lungs, and take aim on that pause between your next inhale. That will help you be consistent. Use a nice, steady pull, then a quick release. I bet your aim will come naturally.” Sheela showed me her method for a few seconds and pointed out how to keep the string from striking my wrist.
“I’ll try.” I slung my quiver over my shoulder, pulled out an arrow, and then nocked one against my bowstring.
“I’ll be around the tree in case they come that way,” Trel said as she unfurled her spider legs while clutching her spear. It was fascinating to see her spread them out, and she actually looked pretty fucking badass once all six were on the ground. She tapped her forehead in a little salute and then scurried out of sight behind the bend of the giant tree.
The birds were now fluttering around in the lowest branches, which were still quite a way up the side of the towering redwood, and they all squawked in unison as if they were talking. A few moments later, a couple fell from their perch and were soon followed by all the others.
“Shit, they’re attacking!” I yelled.
The group of twelve or fifteen birds spiraled downward around the trunk of the tree until they were about two-thirds of the way to the ground. They came around one last time and then dove straight down on us.
Sheela shot an arrow as the birds closed the distance, but they were moving so damned fast my first shot was barely aimed when I let it go. We flung ourselves against the tree bark, and the wave of orange veered away from us at the very last second.
“Holy fuck!” I shouted as one of them clawed my hat and knocked it off my head.
An orange blob smashed into the soil with a sickening crunch as if it couldn’t pull out of its dive. Then I realized it met its end before it landed. The last five inches of an arrow stuck out of its beak and the rest was jammed down its throat.
“We got one,” I cried, knowing it was probably Sheela’s shot that took it out.
The flock swooped back up a little but then changed direction again like they were all on a roller coaster. They made one pass over the cave but then turned around and came in for a landing on the open ground between us and the ramp. At first, I thought maybe they’d try to get into the cave, but once they got their feet on the open field, they turned in our direction as if we were their greatest threats.
“I want to kill them all,” I said as we watched the birds hop around and flash their jagged-toothed beaks. Several more orange birds flew in as if they didn’t want to miss the attack, and we soon faced twenty of them.
“We’ll draw them in,” Sheela replied as she held back from firing another shot.
The birds relentlessly shuffled our way while keeping in a pretty tight group. They flapped their wings as if they were a mob of combative old ladies trying to use brooms to sweep us away, but it wasn’t going to work on us.
“Back up, but get ready,” Sheela advised.
I knew better than to argue with my chief military strategist, so I did as she requested. The two of us retreated along the edge of the redwood until we were up against the lone pole we’d sunk in the ground.
“This is perfect,” Sheela said quietly. “They can’t get around us.”
Hope was at our backs, so shooting her by mistake was impossible. I pulled the nocked arrow to my jaw as I held the string of my new bow while waiting for the perfect moment.
It didn’t take long.
“Now!” Sheela shouted.
I let go of the string when the birds were about twenty feet away.
My arrow sunk right into the middle of the nearest orange dino, not the one I was aiming at, but it counts, and Sheela’s arrow tore through the next one over.
“Kill them!” I yelled as a war cry.
A lone bird might have been scared away by my loud voice, but they were fearless in a pack, and my scream just seemed to help them hone their attack on my position. They seemed to stream toward us like an orange tidal wave.
Sheela got her second shot off a moment before mine. I did a lousy job of aiming because my hands were shaking, but her shot sailed true and pegged one of the orange birds in the face.
Sheela fired two arrows for every one of mine, which was a testament to her skill. She stepped several paces to my right, so she could get some shots into the side of the flock, but that gave one of the faster runners an opportunity to get in close to me.
“Holy shit!” I screamed as it charged me with its toothy mouth opened wide. It was too close to use the bow, and I remembered Sheela’s warning about close combat with dinosaurs, so I readied my secondary weapon.
I felt the crunch of bones as I got a solid kick with my steel-toed work boot. The turkey-sized bird slammed against the bark of the tree and fell to the ground ten feet away.
Another of the birds followed behind the one I’d kicked, but it stopped and spread its slick wings as if to show them off. I wasn’t impressed, but because it was only five feet away, I had the perfect opportunity to finally ID the little bastards.
“Got ya!” I said as I focused on my Eye-Q.
Identification: Bird, Pelagornis Cardiffirus, male.
“Fascinating,” I said without emotion, and then I sunk an arrow into the bird. The shot wasn’t anywhere near perfect, and it landed along its flank without piercing its insides. It screamed in pain, and I took two steps so I could kick him in the stork-like face. His neck twisted away with a snap when my steel toed boot hit him, but I didn’t have time for sympathy.
Life and death were now as simple as us versus them.
A couple more birds fell over as Sheela killed them with her arrows, but the crazy fucks still pressed their attack. There were way too many of them, and I felt a surge of terror seize my stomach.
Then a heavy spear fell from above and skewered one of the larger birds in the flock.
“Trel!” I cried out in surprise. She’d used her spider legs to cling to the side of the redwood trunk and had come all the way around until she was about twenty feet above us.
She saw me and flashed a grim smile, then walked a few feet down the trunk before leaping into the chaotic flock.
Sheela shot once more, but then we both watched in awe as Trel was engulfed by the orange storm of the eight or ten remaining birds. Her two back legs lashed out and dragged a couple of the birds closer to her body where they were crushed against her other legs. She hopped a few feet off the ground and impaled two more birds before they could move away. Finally, she grabbed her spear and spun herself in a blur, so the tips of her legs impacted any bird that was still close. She ended up in a cloud of orange and black feathers, and there were only a few birds left uninjured.
I kicked a disoriented pelagornis and Sheela loosed an arrow against one flapping a few feet off the ground. Her shot hit, and the orange bird tumbled back down just as the last two birds began to retreat.
Trel tossed her spear at one of them, but her aim was a bit off, and the javelin skidded across the ground and into some ferns.
“They are getting away!” the spider-woman screamed as the escapees took to the air.
I tried to aim my bow at one of them, but I didn’t trust myself to shoot over Trel’s head. Sheela managed to let loose an arrow from her spot off to the side, and it hit one of the birds in the wing. It was her last arrow, and there was still one bird left.
“Take one of mine,” I cried out as I tossed an arrow through the air to Sheela. “Use your Eye-Q!”
Sheela caught and n
ocked the arrow like she practiced the move every day of the week, then blinked to call up her computer. I watched her study the target until I thought she had missed her chance to fire. At the last possible second, she let the arrow fly, and we all watched the homemade missile arc across the clearing until it made contact with the bird some fifty yards in the air. The target let out a sad cry as it spiraled to the ground like an airplane with one engine out.
Then the battle was over.
Nearly three dozen dead birds were lying next to the redwood tree, mostly near Trel’s feet. An equal number of them were spread in feathery piles around the outer edge of the battlefield. It was a lot of carnage, but my friends and I had won this battle, and I felt a surge of euphoria fill my muscles. I double checked the sky to make sure there were no more orange birds coming for us, and then I ran over to Sheela.
“That was an incredible shot,” I exclaimed as we both hugged each other.
“You were correct, Victor,” she said while we embraced. “The computer showed me where to aim so that I could land a critical strike.”
I pulled away from Sheela and turned my praise on Trel. She stood among the dead bodies of the failed attack and bent down to pick up my hat.
“Trel, that was fucking amazing!” I gushed. “I don’t even know where to begin to tell you how cool that was. Hell, that’s almost worth accepting your offer. Who knew you could fight?” I held out my arms to make it clear I wanted to hug her, too.
A couple of her spider legs had blood splashed on them, but she seemed unharmed and stepped my way with a barely suppressed grin. When she was out of the worst of the mess, she put the hat back on my head, held out her arms, and returned my hug without speaking.
I was glad to have her in my arms. Her help had convinced me that we were going to be able to have our new fort built in time, but Trel also revealed a kind of mama grizzly bear fighting attitude that I never would have suspected in her. She was a great asset to the team, but I was happy to have her as a friend. We’d shared some laughs today and holding her in my arms confirmed my feelings for my three friends.