Caveman Alien’s Claim
Page 15
I just nod, concentrating on my work.
The chief clears his voice. “The men have been asking when you intend to go out into the woods to hunt for the tribe.”
“Soon,” I promise, hammering out a good point to a steel spike.
“Stop the noise when I’m talking to you.”
I put the hammer down and peer at the chief. The gold around his neck shines in the sun. He’s wearing more gold than usual. There are chains around both his wrists now. And there is more that glitters around his ankle.
“That’s better. You are the youngest warrior in the tribe, Car’rakz. And so it is your duty to procure food for the tribe.”
“So it is said.”
“It is. And it is true. It was always thus. Even I, before I became chief, had to do my duty. And after I became chief, even more. Being chief of the tribe is not easy, Car’rakz.”
“That is understood.”
“And if I am to recommend you to follow me as chief, I must be able to point to your deeds. Right now, I’m not sure what I would say. You are using the tribe’s forge for things that aren’t tribe business.”
I take in the chief. I’ve never noticed how old he has become. And how weak he looks. “There are many men in the tribe. Let someone else hunt for a while.”
“There are more men in the tribe,” he agrees, “but most are busy in the mines. And with turning raw gold into the finest objects. For the glory of the tribe!”
It’s a phrase he has used many times.
“I do want the tribe to be glorious,” I reply. “But there is a threat nearby. The dragon is coming ever closer to the village, Tamara says. She has seen it on her walks. High in the sky. Circling. It’s coming closer, Chief.”
“Probably that dragon belongs to her and is a part of her alien scheme to steal our gold.”
His words stun me. “To steal?”
“Yes! She came to my cave, asking to look at my gold. And in a weak moment, I showed her. Since then, she has been mostly out of sight. Plotting, no doubt.”
I laugh. “Tamara doesn’t want any gold. And she might be plotting, but not against our tribe.”
The chief’s crusty eyes narrow. “You admit she’s plotting?”
“We’re planning to rid us of the dragon. So the tribe can flourish again.”
The chief sighs deeply and looks to the sky, as if asking the Ancestors for help. “The gold makes the tribe flourish. And it is greater now than it ever was! There has never been this much gold in the village. No other tribe has that! Car’rakz, you must do your part. We have excused you from work in the mines at your request, because you prefer to wander in the woods on your own. That was always depending on you hunting for us. And now, I command that you stop your alien nonsense here. I don’t know what your plans are with the alien you brought here. But I still see no new babies in the tribe. And no new Lifegiver, like I tasked you. You are a part of this tribe, Car’rakz! Don’t forget that. And if you want to be chief one day, you must make a choice. The tribe or the alien.”
He turns around slowly, with his head up high, sending me a last significant look. Then he strides off while the gold chain around his ankle makes bright tinkling noises.
I take the hammer and keep working. But the joy has gone out of it. The tribe or the alien.
Well, she is an alien.
- - -
Tamara comes walking. She has more of a spring in her step these days than when we first walked through the woods together.
She comes right up and embraces me, then pulls my head down and kisses my mouth. “How is my hard working warrior?”
I smile and stroke her hair with one hand that I too late realize is pretty dirty. “I’m very well. How is the exploring alien?”
She laughs. “Is supposed to be me? Yes, have done some exploration. But there not much to see. Except I found a good place for put that thing you’re building. Oh, look! Is almost done.”
I kick at the contraption. It looks very alien. “Just a few more spikes and it’s ready.”
“Do you think you can carry it?”
In response, I bend down and lift the thing. It is very heavy, but I can get it off the ground. Barely. “How far?”
She scratches her head. “Not very far. Can we get someone to help us?”
The conversation with the chief resonates in my mind still. “I don’t think that’ll be easy.”
“Okay. I’ll think of something. We probably should get it done soon. I can see dragon circling closer to the village.”
She stays there while I finish the day’s work and the sun sets.
Then we walk back to the cave on the mountain, instead of retreating to my cave. Tamara doesn’t like it much.
Again, we Mate outside the cave with the dark jungle beneath us. I am very happy. But I have a feeling that this can’t last forever. She is an alien. With her own tribe. Which has no gold. At least, not as far as I could see when I was there.
The next day, the chief and two other men come over while I’m finishing the iron contraption.
“You are still not hunting,” the chief says. “I have never known you to disobey, Car’rakz. That alien is ruining our youngest warrior.”
“I will hunt when this is done,” I say and kick at the iron dome.
“That might be too late,” Gres’tax says, lifting a hand to scratch his chest. Or probably to show me the glittering bracelet he has on. “The tribe is starving.”
“Then hunt,” I say coldly.
“You’re right,” says Ciru’zan, the third man, addressing the two others. “He has changed. He’s more alien now than before. Come, let us do what is really his duty and hunt so the tribe has food. I wonder now if he can ever be chief.”
They stride off, gold bracelets glittering in the sun.
Yes, I am derelict in my duties. And just a few weeks ago, a confrontation like this would have made me go pale from embarrassment. But after I saw Tamara’s tribe, I know what a tribe can be. And after I met Tamara, I know what life can be like.
I look up at the sky. There’s no dragon.
The tribe and the alien. Must I really choose? Can’t I have both?
24
- Tamara -
I keep my distance to the dragon’s cave when I go on my walks. That place gives me the creeps, even when the dragon isn’t there. The woods are otherwise empty of dinos, although I think I see the occasional dactyl swinging by, probably to check if the dragon is still there.
It’s pretty interesting to see the jungle when the wildlife has left. I find all kinds of nests and hiding places and even eggs that have been abandoned. Yep, that dragon must have given every inhabitant of this part of the jungle a good fright.
I see it about once a day. I know it’s somewhere above me, because I’m suddenly feeling jittery, with a prickling sensation down my back. And when I look up between the leaves in the canopy above, there it is. Always high up, hardly visible against the sky or the clouds. And still so clearly there.
Of course, I make sure to always cover one eye when I look at it, but the fear doesn’t retreat until long after I can no longer see it.
It’s clearly looking for something. It flies in ever smaller circles with its cave as the center. My theory is that it’s still building its hoard. I mean, it hasn’t attacked Bune or the girls yet. As far as I know, anyway. It must have come from space, and I’ve seen nothing that resembles a spaceship. So I guess these things can fly in space without one. It wouldn’t surprise me.
But in space, the distances between stars and planets are just too vast to imagine. If this thing has actually traveled through the void with no transportation, then it is probably tired. Much in the same way that any creature would be exhausted after a long trek.
And what do you need after that? You need food and drink and rest. Now, what if the dragon doesn’t need those things? What if it is so alien that it needs something else instead? Like a hoard?
It’s not easy to think ra
tionally and scientifically about a thing I fear as much as I fear the dragon. But I do my best, and so far I’m going on the assumption that the most important thing for this being is its hoard. Even if it consists of rusty iron and shiny stones. Anything which sparkles or consists of refined metal that someone has turned into an object will do, if the dragon needs its hoard with the same desperation as any camel would need water after a long journey through the desert.
That’s why it’s still building it; that’s why it hasn’t attacked yet. It’s still focusing on building its hoard so it can survive.
So far, it’s only found old scrap that cavemen have dropped in the jungle through the years. But the way it’s circling; it will soon be on top of Car’rakz’s village. And then it will make a discovery that might let it complete its hoard in a very short time. I have to assume that the gold in that village will make a very, very nice hoard for even a discerning dragon.
That’s my theory, anyway.
I find a small, idyllic little clearing with a nice meadow. I sit down on a rock by the forest’s edge and unwrap my lunch. It’s the pemmican that Car’rakz prepares, this time with a little bit of input from me. It’s solid fare, very full of energy—
I suddenly twitch and grab my spear.
“—but it was nowhere to be found. And do you know…”
It’s distant, but that’s a voice. A caveman’s voice. And it sounds like he’s not alone.
I quickly and silently pack up my lunch and back off in among the trees, then lie down and duck until I can just see above the grass.
Two cavemen come into the clearing. I think I recognize them from the village, but I don’t know their names. I try to keep my distance from the men in Car’rakz’s tribe. They haven’t made a good impression on me, and I don’t think they like me, either.
I can’t help comparing them to Car’rakz. These are older, and they have a different way of moving. Car’rakz always walks warily and carefully, automatically looking around for dangers with each step. These guys look more like they’re out for a pleasant stroll, breaking twigs under their feet and chatting loudly. Car’rakz was never one to talk much in the jungle.
“... which was hardly of interest to us. Then he said, that link can be fastened like this. So he did, and then all the other links fell off. Small gold circlets all over the floor. We had to tiptoe backwards out of his cave while he was picking them up.”
The other man chuckles, and their voices carry a long way. Yeah, talking in the jungle is really not a good idea. But of course, there are no dinos here now, so it’s probably not too risky to walk as carelessly as they do.
As they step into the clearing, the sun strikes them and gold chains glitter around their wrists.
“Not much prey in the woods,” one of them comments, looking around casually. “We might have to walk far.”
“And my legs are already tired,” the other one complains. “That cursed Car’rakz! I will never know why the chief lets him waste his time on that alien thing instead of hunting for us.”
“The chief does indulge him,” the other agrees. “He’s afraid, of course. Car’rakz is the strongest man in the village. He has shown temper once or twice.”
“I think the chief has other things he worries about,” the first man mutters. “As long as he doesn’t have to give Car’rakz any gold, he will accept anything.”
“That is one thing I will say for Car’rakz. He never asks for gold.”
The first man sighs. “He doesn’t. He also hasn’t mined any for years and years. Now, if he would only do his duty as the tribe hunter, I would think better of him.”
I frown. Car’rakz is the tribe hunter? Singular? Meaning they only have one? For a tribe of thirty men? Well, it fits the pattern. The tribe sends him into the jungle to face danger every day, while his tribesmen relax in the relative safety of the village and polish their gold. Stringing him along with the talk of making him chief—
I suddenly feel anxious for no particular reason. There is danger here.
I look up.
Ah. The dragon is passing overhead. High up.
I put a hand in front of one eye.
Shit. It’s not high up at all! It’s spiraling down fast, and it looks like it’s centered on this clearing.
Icy fear settles in my stomach, and panic is tugging at me. What I really want to do is get up and run, but that will give my presence away to the dragon for sure. So I manage to stay down, clenching my spear hard and longing for Car’rakz’s calming presence. But he’s in the village, working in the forge.
As the dragon comes down, the fear grows stronger. It’s definitely interested in something in this clearing.
The two cavemen are still standing there, obliviously bitching about having to leave the village to hunt.
What do I do? Warn them about the dragon? But won’t that give me away, too?
I have to do something.
“Run!” I yell. “Dragon!”
They hear me, but they just look around them, puzzled.
I raise myself out of the grass and wave urgently with one arm. “Dragon! Ruuuun!”
They see me now, and all they do is frown and stare.
The dragon is so close now that I can see the individual scales on its body. If I looked at it with both eyes, I would just be mesmerized and frozen by its beauty.
I point up. “Dragoooon!”
One of them looks up. Then he grabs his friend and clumsily tries to draw his sword.
Finally, they run. But it’s too late. The dragon comes diving with its talons stretched out in front of it; the panic almost overpowers me, and the cavemen freeze.
I throw my head down and clench my eyes shut. The last image dances on my retina — gold bracelets shining in the sun.
I hear a soft whoosh, and the heat from the dragon’s fire reaches me from two hundred feet away.
And then a voice speaks to me.
Berezar, it says into my mind, and I know that is its name. Just like we knew what Troga’s name was as soon as we saw her.
Then there’s silence.
When I finally force myself to look up, the dragon is in the air again. In its claws I can see something small that glitters.
Where the cavemen were, there are just two dark heaps of charred flesh in a circle where the grass has been burned away and the sand underneath has been heated until it turned to glass.
- - -
“Remarkable,” the chief says and reaches up to his neck to toy with his necklace. “An unbelievable story.”
He’s sitting on the flat rock in the middle of the village, and I’m sitting on the ground before him. Car’rakz is right behind me, and I’m using his shins as a backrest. I’m afraid my legs won’t carry me. They feel like jelly, both from fear of the dragon and from exhaustion after I ran all the way from the clearing to the village. I told Car’rakz first, and then we both found the chief sitting in the sun.
“It’s the gold,” I state with conviction. “It attracts the dragon if it sees it. Wearing gold in the open is very dangerous. It reflects the sunlight too much. The dragon wants gold more than anything else.”
“I wonder,” the chief says lazily, “who it really is that wants gold more than anything else. Could it be the alien? The dragon is little other than another Big, come from some other part of the jungle. No Big has ever shown any interest in the gold we have. Why should this Big be any different?”
“I am not interested in your gold,” I say, feeling exhaustion making me angry. “It’s completely worthless to me. But the dragon wants it. The first time it flies over this village and sees gold around someone’s neck, it will attack.”
“A likely story,” the chief chuckles. “Why should it fly over this village, particularly? No other tribe has gold!”
“I don’t know. It may have settled close by because it somehow senses the gold. Or it is a coincidence. Anyway, two of your warriors are lying dead in the forest. Burned by the dragon. And their gol
d is gone.”
“How can we know if that is true?” Brec’akz says and gives me a creepy smirk. “Perhaps the alien did it and stole their gold.”
“Tamara couldn’t burn two warriors to death,” Car’rakz says. “Or kill them in any other way. Look how small she is!”
“Who knows what aliens can do,” the chief muses. “This alien woman has not been seen much in the village since you brought it here. As if it avoids us. From fear of being found out?”
“This is ridiculous!” Car’rakz exclaims. “There is a dragon close by. I have seen it kill two men only weeks ago. Now it has killed two more and taken their gold. The first two didn’t wear any gold for it to take.”
“‘Ridiculous’ is a strong word to use against your chief,” Brac’akz chides. “And anyway, we only have the alien’s word that Gres’tax and Ciru’zan are dead and were killed in the way it states.”
“Come with me out in jungle,” I demand. “I’ll show you.”
“It will prove nothing,” Brec’akz says. “I have never seen any dragon myself. I think this is all a plot to take our gold.”
The chief nods. “I also have never seen the dragon. And we only have your report of the death of Sunt’rox and Hasrin’ax, Car’rakz.”
I can feel Car’rakz stiffen behind me, and from the look on the chief’s face I’m pretty sure those yellow eyes are now shooting fire as deadly as that of any dragon.
“But of course, I believe you,” the chief says quickly. “Your report is doubtlessly true.”
I decide to strike while the chief is in a defensive mode. “We have plan to kill the dragon. It will no longer be threat to the tribe or gold. But we need gold for the plan to be success.”
There is silence for three heartbeats.
Then Brec’akz cackles. “And there we have it! The alien needs gold. Who would ever have thought it?” His voice drips with sarcasm.
“We may not need much,” I keep on. “But I think more, the better. We want the dragon blinded by greed. We need it to care not about any other but getting the gold.”