Page 2 of Caveman Alien’s Terror (Caveman Aliens #25)

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- Astrid -

“Interesting,” Melr’ax says and peers at the spike from the salen tree. “I’ve never seen it react like that from simply being drilled into. Are you sure you didn’t accidentally kick it? Perhaps the end of your spear happened to slam into it?”

“We were very careful, just as you instructed,” I tell the old man patiently. Sweat is starting to run down my temples from the heat of the fire he always keeps going in his hut, despite the tropical climate. “But there was someone else.” I glance at the door to the hut to make sure nobody is eavesdropping.

Crusty old eyes meet my gaze. “Someone else?”

“A man,” I begin, not sure how I can describe him in a way that comes even close to the impression he gave me. “Big. Not a tribesman. He was blue all over. Thick muscles. Silver trousers. Black boots up to his knees. Yellow eyes with white stars in them. Scales instead of skin. Or under the skin, maybe. He… hm.” I sigh in frustration. All these words feel too earthy and mundane to describe someone as god-like as that alien, as if I’m insulting him and dirtying him by using them about him.

“Scales?” Melr’ax ponders, leaning back in his chair. “Any weapons? Items he was carrying?”

“None. But he gave me this.” I show him the salen fruit.

“How did you feel? Were you terrified just looking at him?”

“Yes,” I admit. “He didn’t do anything to threaten us. He actually stood between the tree and us, so that all the arrows hit him. Saving our lives, probably. But still he made me afraid.”

“It’s concerning,” the old shaman creaks. “You have just given me a perfect description of the Darkness. Our enemies. The dragons.”

I nod slowly. “That’s what I thought. From what you’ve taught me. And the wall symbols that Bronwen found.”

The old shaman pulls his coat tighter around him. “Those symbols were an omen that the Darkness would soon be upon us. And now you’ve seen it. Likely because you are to be the new shaman of the tribe. The Darkness has shown itself to you specifically. Perhaps in some declaration of war.”

I pinch the front of my dress and pull it out from my sweaty skin to keep it from clinging. “To me and to Alba and to Healer Anter’az. We all saw him. But there was only one of them, I think. And I’m still only your apprentice.”

Melr’ax smiles. “An apprentice who does all the work the full shaman should be doing. I think I will retire soon. May I see the fruit?”

I hand him the salen fruit. “It looks all right to me.”

He turns it over in his hands. “Still, don’t eat it. He may have cast some kind of magic on it.”

I do my best to not roll my eyes. Of course it’s expected that a tribe of cavemen will call things they don’t understand ‘magic’, and it’s understandable that they’ve named some other alien species ‘the Darkness’, because they don’t know any better. But I have to try to interpret their legends and myths and primitive attempts at understanding the world around them, so that I can make some real sense of it.

“Or maybe it’s a perfectly fine fruit,” I gently try. “It would have been strange to save our lives and then give me a poisoned salen fruit right after.”

“It is our sacred fruit,” the old shaman says darkly. “It’s sacrilege for an agent of the Darkness to even touch it. The Darkness is everything we are not. They’re evil. And you were brought here by the Plood. They are the servants of Darkness. Perhaps this blue terror has a specific reason for seeking you out.”

And perhaps he’s our way back home to Earth, for exactly that reason, I think to myself. “We must certainly take that into account,” I say out loud. “Should we take precautions, now that we’ve seen him?”

“You can obviously not go into the jungle on your own,” Melr’ax thinks out loud. “You must bring three warriors each time. Two to fight the Darkness and one to keep you safe, if he were to attack you. Four would be better. ” He closes his eyes. “The chief must be told about this so he can send hunting parties out to kill this terror. I don’t like that it has already shown interest in you.”

“I’ll be careful,” I promise as I quietly put the pot of salen sap on the floor and open the door to leave. I’ve tired the old man out, something that takes nothing these days.

“Astrid.”

I quickly go back inside. “Yes, Melr’ax?”

His eyes are still closed. “You remember how to kill it?”

“I remember,” I assure him. “You told me. It’s the ultimate duty of a shaman. To be the anti-dragon, the anti-Darkness. That means killing them. I will not forget. I have the dragon dagger on me right now.” I feel for the hard outline hidden in my dress.

“From now on, always keep it with you,” he says for the tenth time, having the old man’s need to repeat himself endlessly. “Inside its sheath. That’s very important. Only reveal the blade at the last moment.”

“Yes, Melr’ax,” I reply patiently.

He doesn’t say anything more, so I leave and softly close the door. I worry that this sweet, well-meaning old shaman won’t last much longer. When he’s gone, I’ll be the full shaman with nobody to ask about things.

I make my way to my own cave, halfway up the red mountain that the tribe just calls the Mount, and is like a miniature version of Uluru in Australia.

Little Luna is curled up by one wall. One of her three eyes opens when I enter, and she uncurls, stretches, and splays out all her talons. Then she goes back to sleep.

“It’s a hard life, huh?” I tease her. “Don’t get up on my account. You need your beauty sleep.”

She’s what the cavemen call a stevik and classify as a Small. So she’s not a dinosaur and not an insect, but some kind of mammal. Being a pup, she’s the size of a big housecat, but Melr’ax says she will grow to about three times that. The fur on her upper half always reminds me of astroturf, because it’s a vivid green and stiff. She has short, pitch black fur on the rest of her body, showing the cat-like muscles beneath.

Normally the Borok tribesmen don’t like having living creatures inside their village, because nearly all of them are wild and deadly. But a shaman is allowed, and Melr’ax claims to have had a stevik as a pet for years in the Foundling clan.

Luna has six legs and two tails, one fin-shaped along her back and one tiger-like one in the normal place. She’s clearly a predator of some kind, but it should be possible to tame her. So far it hasn’t taken much effort, just feeding her and petting her on the rare occasions when she lets me. Each time it takes a bit of bravery on my part, because she has an impressive set of fangs and bird-like talons for legs. I’ve seen her rip slabs of raw meat apart like tissue paper.

“But you're really just a big goof,” I blatantly lie, hoping to persuade her that she is, so that she'll be more cuddly.

Leaving Luna, the pot, and the salen fruit there, as well as my spear, I climb the carefully carved steps up to the plateau on the top. We call it ‘the penthouse’, because the view from up here is incredible and because there’s a very nice cave that’s Chief Korr’ax’s and Bryar’s home.

We girls usually hang out here. But Piper and Bronwen are usually in their Foundling camp, and only Bryar and Alba and I are left in the village now.

I sit down by the fire, where Bryar is cooking some stuffed veggies on an iron grate that she’s had made specifically. The cavemen didn’t have anything as fancy as that to cook their meat on before. She’s wearing the same kind of dinosaur-skin dress as I am. It’s not stylish or even that practical, but it’s easy to make and it helps keep us somewhat protected. We tried making pants and shorts, but the dino skin is hard to tailor and those garments just made us sweat and chafe in the most inappropriate places.

She looks up, squinting against the alien sun. “Action-filled trip to the jungle, I hear.”

I sit down on a flat, dinosaur-skin covered rock opposite her. “I’m starting to think that the jungle is always like that. Last time I was out there, Alba met Anter’az for the first time. This time, we both meet a blue alien who made us want to run away screaming.”

“But the tribers must have seen those before, right?”

I adjust my belt. “Oh, they think it’s the Darkness. The old arch enemy from the legends and the wall paintings Bronwen found. Dragons, basically.”

She glances up at me. “And you?”

“I think it’s an alien who may well have something to do with the Plood that abducted us and dumped us here. Which could mean that he just might be able to secure us a ride home. He may even have a spaceship himself.”

“M-hm. We should know much more about those guys before we start hitch-hiking with them, I think.”

I look out at the jungle around us. Bryar is married and pregnant, and she’s probably not too interested in going to Earth if it means leaving planet Xren permanently. She’s built a whole life here, and I think the same is true for the other girls, too. It might be hard to convince them to go, even if that blue guy has the right contacts with an interstellar cruise line. “Anyway, he gave me some extra attention. Handed me a salen fruit and said I’d have to pay for it later.”

“A fruit vendor who sells on credit,” Bryar sums up. “Not the worst kind of alien, I guess. But I can’t say I like what I hear.” She unconsciously cups her pregnant belly with one hand.

“I think the tribes will get rid of that thing well before you pop,” I try to comfort her. “This is what they have been waiting for. With all their mythology and legends and stuff, it almost feels like their whole purpose is to kill those Darkness things. Or capture them or whatever it is they want.”

“Oh, I’m sure they will. Korr’ax will not have something like that roam around close to the village when I’m waddling around pregnant. Here, try this.” She spears a piece of stuffed pepper-like vegetables with a wooden skewer and hands it to me.

It’s piping hot, so I blow on it before I gingerly take a small bite with my front teeth. “Nice. Juicy and spicy.”

“Right? I used some of those drets herbs that taste like pine needles. I wish someone would find a ginger mine, though. Or a cumin quarry.”

“Or a ketchup lake,” I finish her fantasy. “Then we could be serious about using Bronwen’s marvelous bread to make hamburger buns from. Once someone invents the meat grinder for the burger patties.”

“I thought that was your job”, Bryar jokes. “Feels like we assigned it to someone.”

“Inventing the meat grinder and the hamburger are on my list,” I reply, chewing on the food. “Items ninety-six and ninety-seven. I’ll get there eventually. But I expect you to discover sesame seeds before then. For the buns.”

Bryar chuckles. “I’ll see what I can do. We may have to drill for them. I promise nothing.”

“That’s all we ask,” I tell her. “That you don’t promise.”

“I’m actually super good at not promising.” She sighs deeply, clearly content. “This really isn’t a bad life, Astrid. We have lots of food, we can invent things anytime we want, there’s a big tribe of cavemen protecting us, we’re valued and honored members of the tribe, and we’re connected to the Tretter tribe, the Krast tribe and the Foundlings. We’re slowly starting to make the planet ours. Did you ever think we’d get this far?”

“ Most of us have come far,” I mutter. “We’re safe and comfortable. Honored and even celebrated. Flourishing, I would say. All five of us.”

She gives me a glance. “Are you thinking about Cora?”

I look away. “Sorry, I know I keep going on about her. It’s just on my mind a lot. Especially when things are going really well for us. Like now.”

“I’ve actually never heard you talk about her,” Bryar says. “I only know because Bronwen and Alba told me that you feel guilty about her vanishing.”

“It sometimes comes to the surface,” I tell her. “But I try to stop it, because it brings everyone down. Can I take another one?” I reach out to the grate and pinch another filled not-pepper.

Bryar nods. “Sure, help yourself. Hey, if you want to talk about it, I’m all ears. I never heard the full story about what happened to her. I’ve been meaning to ask. So consider it asked.”

I think about it as I blow on the alien pepper. Telling Bryar about it will be painful, but it might also prepare her for what comes later. It might help her understand the choices I’ll be making very soon. “Tell me to shut up when you’ve heard enough of my whining, all right? So Alba, Bronwen, Cora, and I were dumped on Xren. We ran around in a panic for a few days, trying to not be eaten by dinosaurs. But as opposed to you and Piper, we actually had some stuff with us, because I was returning from an archeological dig when I was abducted. I was wearing a backpack with all kinds of useful things in it. Including a shovel. So we wanted to get away from the jungle, off the ground somehow. And climbing the trees is… well, you know what they’re like. It’s just not possible. So the only way we knew was down. Okay, we dug. It was easy, and the soil was loose but not crumbly. Soon we’d dug a tunnel that we could curl up and sleep in. We felt safer than up top. Much safer. We still had to go up to get food and water, but at least we had a place to return to.”

“That’s important,” Bryar comments quietly. “Having a home, not being just strays.”

“And that’s how we spent the first three years or so,” I go on. “We expanded the tunnel, we put up some wooden supports to keep it from collapsing, and we started to dig longer tunnels so that we could get to important places without having to go out at all. It wasn’t much of a life, and we were absolutely miserable. But we were alive, and that’s not to be taken for granted in the jungle. We were constantly hungry. We were limited to a few types of fruit and roots, and it was getting tedious. You and Piper know all about that, too. Also we were worried about the nutrition we were getting. The fruits were sweet, but even so, we felt that we weren’t getting the energy we needed. We were always feeling weak.”

“I remember that feeling,” Bryar says softly. “It’s not fun.”

“It’s really not. So. One day I’d just returned from aboveground with some fruits and roots. It had been one of those days. I fell into a thorn bush and I had to run from one of those moths the size of an albatross. And I was always scared out of my mind when I was out of the tunnels. So I was not in a great mood. And Cora said something that I interpreted as an insult about the food I just risked my life to get. Now I don’t even remember what she said. But I snapped and asked if it wasn’t good enough for her.”

Bryar keeps working with her food, listening and nodding.

I take a break to drink some water. Thinking back to those days is something I try to avoid. “We were both running on fumes with a blood sugar level of just about zero, so tempers flared. For absolutely no reason. You know how that can happen. In the end I practically dared her to leave and come back with better things than I got. I could tell it scared her. But I kept pushing, fully aware that I was going too far. I’m not sure if you know this, but Cora rarely went out of the tunnels, and we usually didn’t comment on it. She’s not the strongest girl. But now I left her no choice. I called her out on how she rarely contributed to the common food stores. The other girls heard it. Cora went really pale. Then, without another word, she climbed out of the tunnels. And she never returned.” My voice cracks at the last word.

Bryar reaches out and puts a hand on my forearm. “Everyone has to contribute in a situation like that. Both Piper and I hated leaving the beach and entering the jungle to find food. But we had no choice. Zero.”

“I know. But Cora wasn’t well. We all saw it. She had no strength. She got winded easily and she could carry less than us. She ate much less than we did, too. Although she was just as hungry as we were. I saw the fear in her eyes, Bryar. She was terrified. She knew she couldn’t handle it. She would be going to her death. And still I kept pushing…” I cover my eyes with one hand.

“Then it was about time,” Bryar states. “It was her turn to contribute. I know it’s harsh, but there can’t be any freeloaders in the jungle. Whatever happened to her wasn’t your fault at all. You don’t control the planet.”

I wipe the usual moisture off my face. “I practically told her to get lost. There were so many better ways to help her do her share.”

“There is always a better way to do things,” Bryar says calmly. “But sometimes there is no better time . Your actions sound fine to me, Astrid. Tough, but fine. We didn’t pick this planet. And it’s an evil fucking place. Nobody can be weak here. Everyone has to carry their load. I hate to say this, but in tough environments there is going to be some culling of a random group like that. Not everyone is strong enough to make it. And those who are strong enough can’t afford to carry dead weight. Not on Xren. Sorry, I don’t mean to insult your friend. Just stating the facts.”

I take a deep breath. “Thanks. Yeah, I know. It’s an evil planet. But that doesn’t mean we have to be evil, too.”

“She may still be out there somewhere,” Bryar says and spears the last of the filled not-peppers. “Speaking as your friend, I think you should put it behind you. Not for yourself. For us . We need you at your best. The girls and the tribe. May I be brutally honest?”

“Please be.”

She takes hold of my hand, her thumb stroking me soothingly. “You’ve obviously been in a bit of a funk ever since I first met you. And even so, you’re the smartest and most accomplished of us. I’d love to see who you can be if you’re able to snap out of that sadness. If you can.”

I nod. “If I can.”

Her hand goes to her mouth. “Oh God. Did I just tell you to ‘just snap out of it’? Sorry, that didn’t sound good. What I mean is?—”

I squeeze her hand. “No, what you said is true. You’re right. I’ll do whatever I can to put this behind me. I’ve been a downer on everyone for too long.”

“In your own time. If you can. The girls and I will help you in any way you let us.” She holds out the skewer. “Here, take the last one.”

I accept it, but my appetite is gone and my guilty conscience is flaring up. “Thanks.”

“I’ll start frying some filets. That’s one good thing about being pregnant, Astrid. I can eat whatever I want all day long, and nobody will complain. I never move from this spot, just keep cooking and eating.”

I give her a pale smile. “Fine, fine. You sold me on the pregnancy thing. Who do I see about that?”

Bryar grins. “I only know one guy, but I make sure he has his hands full with me. You have to make your own arrangements.”

After a while I wander down to my own cave. Luna stands guard at the opening, but she reluctantly lets me in and then attacks the piece of grilled gristle I toss to her.

I lie down on my low, fur-covered cot. Bryar’s words made me feel better, but I know it won’t last. I saw Cora’s eyes. Bryar didn’t.

Sitting back up, I grab the salen fruit. Here is your wish, he said. He must have heard Alba and me talking about wanting a salen fruit to eat.

He may have just arrived from space. I should try to get hold of him and just ask if he has a spaceship. And I should do it before he’s hunted down by the tribes. That could happen at any time, now that Korr’ax knows he’s around.

I bring the fruit to my nose. It smells heavenly, fresh and floral and sweet.

Turning it around in my hand, I see no puncture mark or any brown spots. It’s a pristine fruit that doesn’t look tampered with at all. And what would be the point?

“Hey, Luna.”

She turns her small, sleek predator head. Three of her ears twitch, while the fourth stays pointed at the entrance.

“What do you think of this?” I hold the salen fruit out to her.

She sniffs it and loses interest.

“Is that a go or a no go?” I persist. “Or is it just that you don’t care for fruit? If I die from poisoning, I’ll absolutely blame you for it and I’ll haunt you so hard.”

I bite a small piece off the fruit and suck on it.

My eyes widen as a symphony of flavors explodes across my taste buds. Sweetness, tanginess, and a subtle floral note dance together, each more exquisite than the last. As I bite into it fully, the fruit's juice, cool and refreshing, cascade down my throat, leaving a lingering aftertaste that’s both exotic and familiar.

“No wonder this is sacred,” I mutter. “It’s incredible. Sure you don’t want some?”

Luna rolls all three eyes like a teenager and lies down, ignoring me.

“Suit yourself.” I want to share the experience with someone. But if there is something wrong with the fruit, I don’t want to risk the health of my friends. I’m a shaman, so I’m expected to take some risks. A shaman should know what the sacred fruit tastes like.

I take a full bite of the fruit and close my eyes. With flavors like this, I can only handle so many sensory inputs. There’s something almost meditative about this.

I eat the whole fruit greedily until there’s only the pit left. Sucking it clean, I start to wonder where I can plant it. “It would be nice to have a tree like that nearby. As long as you have a suit of armor for when you want to pick the fruits.”

Putting the seed on a shelf, I lick my fingers and lie back on the bed. The fruit picked up my mood a great deal. If that was the final good experience in my life, then I can’t complain.

For absolutely no reason I feel really optimistic about the mission I’ll go on. It’s as close to suicide as I’ve ever come. My chances are a rounding error from zero.

The way things turned out, it will have to start tonight, so I better get some sleep.

“You’ll have to deal with the Sword Ceremony yourself, Melr’ax,” I mutter as I take out the dragon dagger the old shaman gave to me some weeks ago and inspect it. It’s thin and short, but he claimed it’s sharp enough for its purpose. “Your apprentice will be nowhere to be found.”