Caveman Alien’s Trick

by Calista Skye

  He gently puts me down on the rock. And now I see why we came down here.

  There’s a lake under the mountain. Or a very wide river, because all I see is an inky surface that stretches far into the distance where the daylight doesn’t reach. A gust of cool air washes over me from in there.

  A large raft is tied to a post hammered into a crack in the rock, and Rax’tan throws his sacks aboard before he takes one ginger step onto it. The raft dips dangerously to one side under his considerable weight. It is made from many logs tied together with rope, and it floats pretty deep in the water.

  “Who made this?” I inquire, still standing on dry land.

  Rax’tan sits down in the middle of the raft, and it comes to rest a little deeper. “I did.”

  “How did you get the idea?”

  He gets up on his knees and holds out his hand to me. “I don’t remember. Come here.”

  I stay put. That thing doesn’t look too steady. “Did you happen to spot a raft just like this on one of your walks, far from here? Say, on a lake with an island in the middle, one that you can’t quite jump to from the shore?” Aurora has described her and Trax’zor’s island, where she led the construction of a raft that has to look a lot like this.

  Still Rax’tan holds his hand out. “Perhaps.”

  I guess I should get it over with. I’m in no mood for a bath, certainly not in murky waters like these. But if this raft was based on Aurora’s design, then I’ll trust it. Somewhat.

  I take his large, dry hand and step onto the raft. It moves much less under my weight than it did under Rax’tan’s, and his arm is as steady as a rock.

  I sit down behind him on the raft, noticing I can see the water beneath me, between the logs. Just three inches beneath me, to be exact. One small wave and I’ll get a wet butt.

  “Do you live in this cave?” I whisper, because the low rock ceiling makes every sound echo far away.

  Rax’tan pushes away from the shore and takes up an alien-looking oar that I highly doubt was based on Aurora’s design. “No.”

  He paddles us quietly away from the shore, into the darkness.

  The water surface is still and eerily dark. It could be extremely deep.

  I remember another part of Aurora’s tale. “Are there Bigs in here?”

  “I don’t know.”

  “Should we be quiet?”

  “Probably.”

  I sit still and try to not move as Rax’tan paddles the raft through the water. Only the sounds of his oar can be heard, and after a while it seems to resonate like thunder throughout this entire cavern.

  My eyes get used to the darkness, and now I can see that it is indeed a river. It flows slowly past the rock and is plainly a natural wonder. But I’m not too impressed. I’m more worried about what kind of monster might lurk beneath the placid surface.

  The raft seems to turn a corner, and our river joins up with another stream, both becoming one river that continues into a narrower tunnel with a lower ceiling. Suddenly, it gets breezy, and my hair is pushed forwards.

  “Every evening it blows like that here,” Rax’tan says. “And in the morning it blows the other way. We call this the Gate.”

  “Are we going in the direction that the wind blows? I mean, is that where we want to go?”

  “We are. It would now be impossible to go the other way. The wind is too strong.”

  I grab my much-hated sack from the logs. “Then lets try to do something more useful with this thing.”

  9

  - Phoebe -

  I unfold the large sack and hold it up, as much like a sail as I can. It’s almost blown out of my hands, but I manage to hold onto one corner of it.

  I give it to Rax’tan. “Put your oar down and hold this up, instead. It will make us much faster. No, over your head if you can. Yes, like that. And strech it out… yeah!”

  The wind from straight behind us catches the sack and propels the raft forward so fast there’s a spray of water from the squared-off bow. Water splashes me from beneath, but there’s no doubt that we’re moving much faster now than before.

  The only issue now is steering. We’re being blown towards one side of the tunnel, and it wouldn’t be good if we crashed into it. We’re going pretty fast.

  I reach behind me and grab Rax’tan’s oar. It is huge and heavy, and I can barely lift it. He handled it like it was a small spatula, but I could never actually paddle with this thing. But I don’t need to. I put it into the water like a rudder on the side of the raft, increasing drag on that side and turning the raft around.

  But of course, that’s all I accomplish. Because, I realize too late, this is not a boat. It has no keel, and the raft can float down the river sideways if it wants. I wait for Rax’tan to angrily yell at me for being this stupid, but he just turns a little to catch the wind in the sack sail again.

  I laboriously pull the oar out of the water and put it down again on the other side, using more finesse and just the tip of it.

  The raft slowly rotates back until we’re facing the way we’re going.

  I glance behind me at Rax’tan. He didn’t say a word through my experimentation, trusting me to figure it out. Not many guys I’ve met would be this calm. Certainly not in a boat, a strange device which in my experience makes both dads and brothers and boyfriends lose their minds and panic at the tiniest little mishap.

  Sure, this isn’t a boat. It’s a raft. But the point stands. I wonder what it would take to bring Rax’tan out of balance. Would that even be possible? He’s so freaking composed, whatever happens. Even killing that rekh didn’t change him, except he seemed maybe relieved for a moment after.

  Maybe he didn’t just kidnap me for fun or to breed. Maybe he really saw that I was unhappy and he wanted to do something about it.

  And maybe my arms will turn into wings and I can fly home to Earth. There is such a thing as Occam’s razor, something that astronomers are just all to aware of. If some phenomenon has several possible explanations, pick the simplest and most obvious one. Rax’tan probably just wanted a woman of his own, and I was the closest one. That’s the obvious reason.

  But damn it, I’m warming to him. He keeps me safe, he kills predators when I get hunted by them, and he hasn’t actually hurt me at all yet. Sure, putting me in a sack wasn’t very nice. And I’m not done with that part. But when I think of going home without his colorful presence, it feels like a dull and gray experience. And unsafe.

  There’s a light ahead, and then we turn another corner and I’m blinded by the brilliance of the light pouring in through the opening at the end of the tunnel.

  “We’re through the Gate,” Rax’tar says, lowers the sack-slash-sail, and takes the oar out of my hand.

  Despite the light, night has fallen while we were inside the tunnel, and the bright light is Yrf, the greenish moon. It’s high in the sky and full, which is probably a good thing.

  As soon as the raft passes into the moonlight, the wind at our backs is gone, and Rax’tar starts paddling again.

  In front of us is a lake. Or a swamp. Or… something. I mean, it’s water. Stretching as far as the eye can see in the light from Yrf. But there are also plants sticking up out of it. Like a flooded forest.

  “The water jungle,” Rax’tar says straight into my thoughts. “My home.”

  We pass the top of a tree sticking up from the water. Because it is obviously a tree of some kind. But it grows from the bottom of the lake and appears to be thriving. It only reaches to a little bit above my head, and it’s full of healthy reddish leaves. And there must be thousands of the same kind of tree, making the lake look like a forest.

  “Was this part of the jungle flooded?”

  “I don’t think so. The trees like the water.”

  It’s very quiet and peaceful. I look back to where we came from. The tunnel opening is set into another bare cliff wall, gray and imposing. I make a note of the surroundings so I can find it again. As far as I know, that’s my only way home.<
br />
  The air smells different here, somehow. Fresher than in the jungle.

  On an impulse, I put a finger into the water and smell it, then taste it

  It’s as salty as any ocean on Earth.

  “How big is this lake?”

  “It is very big. None of us have seen the other end.”

  If this is in fact an ocean, then the underwater trees explain why Heidi and Ar’ox have never reported seeing it when they’ve been flying on the dactyls. An open ocean would be visible from many miles away. But this would just look like the rest of the jungle from above. Or at most like a swamp or a system of small rivers. The trees here must be some kind of seaweed taken to a ridiculous extreme, becoming seatrees that grow from the bottom of the lake all the way to way beyond the surface. But that’s planet Xren for you. Ridiculous extremes all over.

  “I wish I had the map,” I mutter. This could be an important discovery. It’s at least a large lake, possibly an ocean. The only saltwater body of water we know of on Xren.

  “Hm?”

  “Nothing. You say this is your home?”

  Rax’tar keeps paddling us straight ahead, around the seatrees. There’s still a little breeze in the air, but it’s coming from the side and not from behind, so it doesn’t help us much.

  “It is.”

  “Have you always lived here?”

  “Only since I left the tribe.”

  I change my position on the raft so I’m sitting sideways and I can see Rax’tar’s face. “So, how long? A few years?”

  “Something like that.”

  “You live alone?”

  He gives me a crooked smile. “No.”’

  “Why did you leave your tribe? Where is that tribe now?”

  “The tribe is still where it always was. In its village far from here.”

  We round another tree, taller than the others. I peer down in the water, trying to see the bottom. But the slender trunk continues down into the depths until it disappears in the darkness. For all I know, it could be a thousand feet deep.

  I’m really hungry. I suppose I gave up my hunger strike when I accepted the water, and anyway I’m not in a sack anymore. “You have food?”

  Rax’tar keeps paddling. “I do. But there’s better fare ahead.”

  We pass more trees, and the cliff we came out of has become only a small shadow in the distance behind us.

  I look up. The stars are out, and I can easily see my polar triangle that shows which way is north. Okay, so to find the cliff, north should be about forty-five degrees to my left. That means I’d be going north-east. We are now going south-west.

  “How do you find your way here?”

  “Each tree is different. First, pass to the left of the tree with one branch broken two hands up from the water. Then pass to the left of the tree which has no leaves on the side that’s towards the Gate. Then pass to the right of the tree which is shorter than the ones around it, except for the one two trees to the left of it, which is even shorter. Then pass between the two trees that touch above your head. Then pass to the left of—”

  I hold up one hand. “Okay, I get it. You know your way around here.”

  “It’s important to know where you are,” he says very seriously. “Especially in the dark. But now I can see home.”

  Ahead, there’s a tree that grows much taller than all the other ones, like a dark arrow pointing to the starry sky.

  I point. “Is that your home?”

  “It is.”

  The tree was further away than I thought, and now it’s towering above us like one of the giants in the actual jungle on land. There’s more than one of them, looking like a bouquet of ferns from a distance, with one tall fern in the middle.

  As we get closer, I realize it’s an island, and those trees are normal jungle trees and not seatrees. They just look huge compared to the smaller ones all around.

  There are little flickering lights here and there, as if it’s a cluster of Christmas trees. Someone else must be here.

  I was already nervous, but now the butterflies in my stomach start doing some crazy parkour stuff in there.

  “Who is here?” I ask, dreading the reply. We’re getting close to the end of the journey, one way or the other.

  “You’ll see.”

  “Will you protect me against them?”

  “Protect you?” I can almost hear the frown.

  “There are other men here, right?”

  “Only the best men on Xren.”

  “And they may be very interested in me. Of course, I know you would never harm me or do anything that I didn’t agree to. But they might see things differently.” And of course, I don’t trust Rax’tar that much yet. But now that I’ve asked him to protect me, surely he can’t hurt me? Applied psychology was never my strong suit, but I hope I’m right about this.

  “Very well.” There’s mirth in his voice.

  I guess we’ll see.

  The raft bounces against the bottom, and Rax’tar gingerly gets to his feet while the whole craft wobbles dangerously. He takes the rope and jumps ashore, then lifts the raft and pulls it up on the beach.

  Above me, the trees spread their dark branches wide and block my view of the stars. They are normal trees, and I must have seen thousands of them in the jungle. But here, on this island in the weird ocean, they seem out of place.

  I get off the raft and feel firm sand under my sandals. Rax’tar walks towards the trees, and I have no choice but to follow.

  “Rax’tar,” a deep voice says from right behind me, and I jump before I twirl around. There’s a caveman standing right behind me.

  Rax’tar turns more slowly. “It is a fine night, Gir’ex. Let us not hide from each other in the dark.”

  The other man looks me up and down. “You have brought an outsider?”

  “I have.”

  “This is one of the alien females that the rumors mention?”

  Rax’tar scratches his chin. “I now have reason to suspect that those were not so much rumors as factual reports.”

  “Does the alien speak?”

  “I speak,” I say, trying to make my voice deep and strong and secure, failing spectacularly. “But usually I prefer to be addressed as Phoebe and not as ‘the alien’.”

  Rax’tar chuckles. “Watch out, Gir’ex. She can take your head off with one word.”

  “I see. Fibi. An alien name, indeed. But that has been established. Will you tell me more about yourself, Fibi?”

  “I might.”

  “Phoebe will share in our meals,” Rax’tar announces. “And she needs one right now. As do I.”

  “Very well,” Gir’ex says, and his teeth flash white in the darkness. “I shall prepare it, myself.”

  He walks past us towards the cluster of trees then disappears in among them.

  “He has purple stripes as well,” I observe. “From your tribe?”

  “From my tribe and from the same Lifegiver,” Rax’tar confirms. “But not from the same father.”

  I follow his broad back as he makes his way to the tall tree in the middle, where lights are flickering on several levels.

  As we get closer, I see why. The tree is absolutely huge. It’s as wide as a house at ground level. And it must be hollow. It has small windows higher up and a large, arched portal carved into it at ground level. A soft, yellow light shines out of it and I can hear a muffled conversation in deep voices.

  Rax’tar makes straight for the portal, and so do I. As soon as I’m inside, the conversation stops as if cut with a knife, and I’m the center of attention for five new cavemen.

  They’re sitting around a large table in this huge hall carved out of the tree. To me it looks like the great hall in a medieval castle, with torches hung on the wall and a fire pit by one wall, lined with stone. Two whole and gutted turkeypigs are being roasted over the fire, and the smell of them makes my mouth water.

  Gir’ex comes in, carrying a large basket. “What are you all staring at? Neve
r seen a female alien before? Oh, and her name is Fibi. Better not call her ‘the alien’ or she will cut off your head with her alien magic, I’ve been reliably informed.”

  Rax’tar laughs, a deep sound that resonates through the whole tree. “You’re a quick learner, Gir’ex. Now, make room for Phoebe.”

  The still dumbstruck cavemen around the table scoot and reorganize themselves until one whole side of the table is free. I climb up on a wooden chair that would seem low for a caveman, but which is the height of a barstool and makes my feet dangle.

  Rax’tar sits down beside me, and his feet comfortably reach the floor. “I apologize for the lack of courtesy, Phoebe. Apparently, my friends have never heard that you should introduce yourself when you meet someone new. That’s Juri’ax to the right, there, the one with the open mouth. Then Arit’zan, Curt’on, Tret’zor, and Erek’ox. Not the sharpest blades in the forge, but they make themselves useful once in a while.”

  They all nod at me, surprise still on their faces. Only Rax’tar and Gir’ex have purple stripes – the other men must come from other tribes.

  “Greetings, Phoebe,” Curt’on finally says. “Excuse our terrible manners. We’re not used to dealing with Phoebes.”

  “Idiot,” Gir’ex grunts from over by the fire. “Only this one is called Phoebe! It’s not the name of every alien female.”

  “Greetings, warriors,” I respond. “It’s pleasant to meet you all.”

  “Reserve your judgement,” Rax’tar counsels. “Once you get to know them, ‘pleasant’ might not be the word you’ll use. But,” he says with a quick sideways glance at me, “they’re all harmless. Except to themselves.”

  “Rax’tar enjoys feeling superior,” Arit’zan says. “It is a completely unwarranted feeling. Some time you should ask him about the bobont he caught.”

  “It was very dark,” Rax’tar protests. “I had no way of knowing that the bobont was in fact an agadru.”

  “We all knew the moment we saw it,” Tret’zor says. “He came leading a huge predator Big into our camp, wanting to impress us with having caught a bobont. If that agadru hadn’t been so old, it would have killed us all. As it was, we were able to escape before it could attack us. But it ate all our food and trampled all over our camp.”