Extreme Difference

by D. B. Reynolds-Moreton

  The afternoon was spent categorizing and restacking the traded goods they had acquired into neat piles, so that if something was required, it could be found without having to go through the whole cave in a random search.

  Sandy insisted that the drop-net at the cave’s entrance be repaired, the burnt sections being cut out, and new cord spliced in. The reason for this, he quietly emphasized, was in case the creature, not able to get back into the sanctuary of the sands, decided that the cave system might be a good place to retreat into from the heat of the sun.

  With the net down, and the hold down ropes lashed in place, he hoped it would be sufficient to protect them from possible invasion.

  When the sun had dipped below the crater rim, they set off with their equipment, and located two suitable positions for the rope anchor points, each some ten metres either side of the entrance.

  The metal rods were hammered into convenient cracks in the rock, and a cord was run through each ‘eye’ and brought back to the entrance. The other end of both cords were then attached to the catching cylinder of collapsible mesh, and everything was ready for the morrow, when they would try to capture a creature of the sands.

  Nan came out to survey the trap, nodding his approval as each item was explained, although he was still not happy with the overall concept, and the idea of eating the creature caused him to screw up his face in disgust.

  Karry and Kel were co-opted into the capture team, and Sandy outlined the method he intended to use. With two of them on each rope, they would take it in turns to pull the creature from side to side, so loosening its grip on the sand and hopefully leave it stranded, to die in the heat of the sun.

  Word had got out about the capture scheme, and the normally quiet evening meal was frequently punctuated by questions about the venture, the others on the team allowing Sandy to supply the answers on the principle that if anything went wrong, then he would be the one to take all the blame.

  As each question containing a possible problem was deftly handled by an eloquent Sandy, who had gone over the scheme many times in his head, Mop’s admiration for him became obvious to all, and this generated several ribald comments from those who were less favoured by the now desirable Mop.

  Ben and Sandy returned to the stores after the meal, to sharpen the knives they would use to carve up their capture.

  They thought that if they were quick, they could have it reduced to strips before the sun broke over the crater rim, leaving it out in the heat of day to dry out, thus preserving the meat for future use.

  It was quite late when Sandy returned to his sleeping cave, and he was relieved to find it devoid of his new admirer. No sooner had he wriggled himself into a comfortable position and closed his eyes, when the now familiar flop flop of Mop’s worn out footwear announced her imminent arrival. With a sigh of resignation he rolled over, making room for the copious Mop, who would soon acquire more than her fair share of the coverings, forcing Sandy to snuggle into her just to keep warm.

  He could see at least one possible advantage of the arrangement, apart from the obvious one. If food ever became scarce, he would be well looked after by his admirer.

  So he looked upon the situation as an insurance policy against the possible future, not that he could recall exactly what an insurance policy was in any great detail.

  Next morning found the team up early, Mop having told them she would arrange an early meal so that they would have maximum time out on the sands before the sun got too hot.

  With extra wrappings on their feet to protect them from the ice cold sands, they checked out the trap again, making sure the ropes would run smoothly through the ‘eyes’ when the moment of capture came.

  Sandy took the trapping cylinder of mesh out onto the sands, despite a shouted warning from Ben about lurking predators, and then made sure the ropes ran back in straight lines to their terminal points.

  ‘All we have to do now is bait it, and wait.’ said Sandy, disappearing into the cave entrance, and reappearing a little later with a bundle of rags in his arms.

  ‘What are you using for bait,’ asked a puzzled Ben, and then wished he hadn’t. Sandy unwound the rags to expose the charred remains of an arm, which had already begun to decay with the expected nauseous aroma.

  ‘Oh God. That’s disgusting,’ Ben cried out, quickly moving up wind of the offending remains, and looking shocked.

  ‘Oh shut up, you wimp,’ Karry retorted crossly, ‘you didn’t have to handle it, anyway, can you think of a better thing to use as bait?’

  Sandy walked out onto the sands as if the creatures below were just a myth, and thrust the rotting arm into the end of the cylindrical mesh trap, pulling the whole contraption taught against the holding ropes.

  ‘Shouldn’t be too long now,’ he called out, as he walked back nonchalantly to the waiting and anxious group, ‘the surface of the sand is beginning to soften a little.’ Mop and a few others were watching from the complex entrance.

  Mop handed around a large pot of some hot brew, flavoured, she said, with a herb obtained on one of their trading expeditions. The steaming mint tasting liquid helped to combat the still chilly morning air, as they waited patiently for the first signs of movement under the now thawing sands.

  Ben instructed the onlookers to retreat well into the complex entrance once activity on the sands began, as they might have to beat a hasty retreat and drop the catch net if the creature displayed any inclination to shelter from the broiling heat of the sun in the inviting cool of their caves.

  Time dragged, as it always does when waiting for something to happen, and then it happened.

  Some thirty metres out, the sand rippled as something moved beneath its surface. A little wave of sand travelled towards them, slowing down and eventually melting away as it neared the underlying rock of the crater rim.

  Everyone held their breath as stillness returned again to the quiet sands. Nothing moved, except their heaving chests and pounding hearts.

  Gently, a thin grey brown tentacle broke the surface, rising up for two metres and slowly swayed to and fro, trying to pick up the direction from which the delectable smell of food emanated.

  A large hump grew in the sand, as the creature below moved ever closer to the surface, drawn on by the smell of charred and rotting flesh. At last the tentacle homed in on the mesh cylinder, probing its outer edge as it sensed something strange and new, but urged on by the stench of rotting meat from the other end.

  Gradually, the exploring tip of the creature’s food gathering equipment crept down the cylinder, and then found the reward for its long and persistent hunt.

  Having located its prey, the tip of the probing tentacle wound itself closely around the remains of the arm, tightening its grip and bunching up to fill the enclosing cage of metallic mesh, as the sensors on its tip were overwhelmed by the enticing smell.

  At the first signs of retraction, Sandy and Ben heaved on their rope, elongating the mesh cylinder, and increasing its grip on the creature’s pseudopodia. It froze for a moment, and then Karry and Kel put all their not inconsiderable weight on their rope, and a metre or so of the creature was dragged from the concealing sand.

  The two teams alternated their pulling, and slowly more of the hidden creature became exposed as it lost its grip on the yielding sand. Two more tentacles now joined the entrapped one, waving about, desperately trying to find something solid to grip.

  Both teams went sprawling as the tension came off the ropes when the main body of the sand dweller broke surface, the whole creature thrashing about, sending clouds of fine sand high into the now warming air.

  Regaining their feet, they pulled the creature towards them, only stopping when it was well clear of the deeper sands, and then they ran back to the complex entrance, taking the ends of the ropes with them to be tied off, so preventing the creature from returning from whence it had come.

  ‘Quick, drop the net,’ Sandy yelled, as a tentacle began to stretch in their direction, ‘tie those
bloody ropes off quickly, we don’t want it in here.’

  They had successfully made their capture, but would now have to wait for the blazing sun to do its part in terminating the creature before they could see just what it was they had dragged up from the sandy depths of the crater.

  The brilliant blue white light from the naked sun blasted down on the crater floor as the thermonuclear generator cleared the high rim for another day of torturous heat, evaporating any tiny drops of moisture which had collected in the cracks and crannies of the surrounding rocks.

  Various members of the complex took it in turns to peer through the safety of the catch net to see the last death throws of the creature from the sands, its writhing and twisting struggle to return to the cool of the lower sands becoming weaker and weaker as the sun rose higher in the clear blue sky above the crater.

  Ben gave the knives they would use to butcher the creature, a final honing. They would have to work fast when the sun dipped below the rim, as other sand creatures would be attracted to their dead relative, and would probably have no compunctions about eating a sibling.

  Sandy’s idea was to cut the tentacles into strips, as he assumed they would be mainly composed of muscle meat, and drape them over the highest rocks they could reach. The night time drop in temperature would in effect freeze dry them to some extent, and the sun on the following day would complete the job, dehydrating them to hard leather-like strips which could be easily stored and traded.

  As yet, no one had seen the main body of the creature clearly, as it had drawn its tentacles back to cover itself in one last desperate attempt to preserve life. They would have to wait until the cool of evening to see the full horror of what they had captured.

  By midday, the creature had ceased to struggle, and Sandy was surprised it had hung onto life for so long, being quite convinced nothing could only survive for a few minutes in the full glare of the sun.

  Nan gave instructions for the driest cave to be found for meat storage, and some simple shelving to be constructed from the now not inconsiderable supply of materials they had acquired through trading. To maintain his position as leader of the group, he needed to issue orders, and by so doing on this occasion, had by default given his blessing to the meat project.

  The midday meal was eagerly awaited, and the excitement level of the group rose almost to fever pitch as the afternoon dragged on. A shout from the entrance finally announced the imminent disappearance of the sun behind the crater rim, and everyone rushed up to the entrance, but few would venture any further until they knew for sure the creature was well and truly dead.

  Sandy fearlessly strode out onto the sands, followed by Ben and the others who had been given knives and instructions on how to carve up the tentacles, which by this time had entwined themselves into what looked like a knot around the main body.

  It took four of them to unwind and straighten out the first of the three appendages, thereby fully exposing the body for the first time. It was a huge ovaloid bulbous mass, covered in what looked like veins, the three appendages coming out of one end, and between them, a wicked looking beak, quite capable of biting off a human arm or leg.

  The heat of the sun had done its work, the skin in some places having split open, revealing the powerful muscular structure beneath.

  Once the tentacles had been laid out in a line, the amputation began, with little blood appearing, as most of it had congealed under the heat of the sun. The skin was stripped in one piece, as Sandy had a use for such a tough material.

  Many knives flashed in the failing light which spilled over the crest of the high rim, and soon a steady stream of meat strips were being laid out to dry on the highest rocks they could reach.

  The core of each tentacle seemed to be made up of gristle like interlocking rings, and these too were put out to dry, although they had no specific use for them at the moment.

  It was when they cut into the main body, that they had a surprise. Just below the outer skin, which had been protected from the sun by the encircling appendages, was a thick layer of a white and yellow streaked fat like substance, nearly half a metre in depth, protecting the internal organs.

  Sandy gave orders for the fat layer to be salvaged, and stored in whatever containers could be found. His thoughts were already racing ahead, the fat could provide the light he needed to explore the cave system, where the gas lamps failed to go.

  As the light finally failed, and the chill of evening dropped like a cold blanket on those still on the crater floor, there was very little of the sand creature left. The internal organs, in their tough skin bag, were dragged out onto deeper sand, and left for the other creatures of the crater to scavenge when the sand warmed up again.

  The butchery crew, sweaty, blood stained, and very tired, returned to the relative comfort of the caves to get cleaned up, and have a well earned meal.

  Sandy had never heard so much general chatter at meal time, and realized that the members of the group had come up tone to a remarkable degree, probably caused by their having something useful to do, and a common purpose.

  Everyone slept well that night, especially Mop, tucked up with her hero, as tired as he was.

  After a very quickly consumed breakfast next morning, Sandy and Ben went out when it was warm enough underfoot, to inspect the meat strips.

  Everything was just as they had left it the night before, proving if nothing else, there were no night marauders.

  As the reflected sunlight from the high rim began to warm the crater, the first sign of movement under the sand became apparent. Something had sensed a meal, and was on its way to retrieve it.

  ‘Let’s stay and see what it’s like.’ Ben suggested, and Sandy agreed, as there was little else to do now except wait for the meat to dry, and then he remembered the fat.

  ‘OK, but we must make a start on our lamps if we’re to explore the tunnel in your store cave.’

  They did not need to wait very long. A large humped shape in the sand drew nearer, the fine sand flowing almost like water as it pushed its way towards the remains of the creature they had butchered the day before.

  This time there were no tentacles, just a dark brown rounded lump, with no apparent distinguishing features, until the slit like mouth opened and swallowed the still frozen remains they had left on the sand.

  With a roar which must have been heard half across the crater, the brown hump spat out the entrails bag, together with a considerable quantity of sand which it must have swallowed at the same time.

  Both watchers were taken by surprise, and instinctively jumped back several paces, although the sand was too shallow for the creature to have reached them.

  Ben began to brush off some of the sand which had landed on him, when they noticed the smell, and both were promptly violently sick on the spot.

  Having divested themselves of their early morning meal, their attention was drawn back to the creature in the sands.

  The brown hump had nearly disappeared from view, wriggling itself back beneath the sand, but a scaly arm suddenly flashed out, equipped with a set of claws which made them shudder, sinking them into the still frozen entrails bag and dragging it beneath the surface.

  ‘So we have a mixture of unpleasantries down there,’ commented Sandy, both hands clutching his still aching stomach. ‘This place is full of surprises.’ Ben felt too unwell to reply, and merely nodded.

  They returned to the complex, getting strange looks from those they hurriedly passed, and went to the new washing cave to get cleaned up, and find a change of clothing.

  ‘Where did that awful smell come from?’ asked Ben, as he scrubbed himself clean.

  ‘I suspect it was from the saliva that thing spat out along with the unwanted sand.’ Sandy replied. ‘It probably contains enzymes and bacteria to help digest whatever it catches. If the smell is anything to go by, it could strip paint.’

  Mop, hearing the misfortune which had befallen the pair, waltzed into the wash room, quite unashamed, and dumpe
d a handful of herbs into the water.

  ‘These should make you two smell a little better,’ she said, reaching forward to stir the water, and then thinking better of it, ‘must away, I’ve got some cooking to do.’ She left, grinning from ear to ear, and with a bounce in her step.

  ‘What was that all about?’ asked a puzzled Ben.

  ‘Search me.’ Sandy replied, knowing full well Mop’s intentions, which had then been thwarted by Ben’s presence.

  It took the pair quite some time to eradicate the nauseous odour the creature had bestowed upon them.

  ‘What do you intend to do with the fat we saved from the creature?’ asked Ben, as they went along to Mop’s kitchen to replace their breakfast.

  ‘I hope to render it down to an oil, then we shall have fuel for lamps we can move around with. I left one container out in the sun to cook, after cutting up the fat, so by this evening we should have a little oil, if we’re lucky.’

  Mop had anticipated their visit, and thoughtfully prepared two plates of vegetables flavoured with her new herbs, beaming happily as they wolfed them down.

  The pair went down to Ben’s storerooms to look for materials to make the lamps Sandy was so insistent about, and while doing so, Ben asked him about the Great Lights.

  ‘What do you really think they are?’ he asked innocently.

  ‘I think they come from some sort of vehicle which brings people like us to this godforsaken place, for whatever reason. I can’t accept Nan’s theory that we are created by them, that’s a load of crap. God knows why he believes it.’

  ‘But why would anyone want to send us to a place like this? We can only just survive here, why not send us somewhere where the living is easier?’ Ben asked.

  ‘That I don’t know, but look at some of the facts.’ Sandy was getting into his stride on a subject which intrigued him.

  ‘We arrive here with no memory of our past, and we must have one, you don’t just appear as an adult out of nowhere. I think our memories have been tampered with, so that we can remember some things, like language, and the names of things, but can’t always understand what they are.