TICEES (58 page)

Finally the day came when Chelan stood. Her legs were weak and shaky, but she stayed upright, and in no time, she was walking again. Her right ankle remained swollen, and she was forced to favor it, but she knew that with time even it would heal. She just had to make sure she did not injure it again, as walking on the uneven cave floor was precarious.

Her body was now a pale brown-yellow, and the wounds on her back had been transformed into bright pink patches of new and healthy skin. All the swelling in her fingers had abated, save for a joint or two. At times her knees flared and ached, but with each passing day, they, too, began to ease.

Chelan moved carefully among the solution features on the cave floor, gorging her eyes on their delicate beauty. At times she felt as though she had been deposited in a pirate’s treasure chest, immersed in jewels and trinkets that intrigued her mind and warmed her soul.

In her limited travels she had discovered that the cavern had an extensive ventilation system, the main room fed by several smaller shafts. When near some of the side tunnels, her skin prickled at the gelid air, but when she analyzed it, it was probably not that much cooler than Korba’s chambers. Alongside other shafts, she could feel the whisper of air movement that drained her cavern and fed other spaces far beyond her reach. It was also obvious that the rock-ice lattice far above her was extremely thick, the solution features below probably the result of eons of meltwater cascading over the rock, dissolving the minerals and redepositing the elements as flowstones.

She also understood that she was fairly deep within the planet, the relative warmth that she felt compared to that of the surface indicating to her that she was cradled within a continental hot spot. As far as she knew from her work with Salizar, this region of the Dead Zone was far inland from any tectonic plates, and this continental slab was thick and broad. So, a hot spot it was, at least that was her Earth analysis, and for the most part, that would have to do.

Chelan was anxious to get better so that she could climb back to the surface and survey her surroundings. She had a lot of questions, and she hoped that a trip to the surface would give her a better feel for the series of events that had contributed to her relative well-being rather than to her near-certain death. If nothing else, she would find out just how far down she was.

Chelan returned to her shroud and sat down gently, still careful of her tender flesh. She rested her head in her hands and began to ponder her life here and how long she would last. Without food, things were indeed bleak, and from what she knew of the Dead Zone, there would not be any sustenance forthcoming.

But that was not the scenario her mind focused on. What if she had food? How would she survive? What would she do, and what would her existence be like? Chelan chuckled. How ironic. Her people had once occupied the caves of her world, and they had since moved forward in leaps and bounds, spurred on by advancing technology. Then she in turn had taken one more giant leap—the leap that had exposed her to the galactic forefront of technology, the technology of RIBUS 7, and the Iceanean and Telesian people. Now she had come full circle, back to her ancestors, and she would live out the remainder of her life in a cave. She smiled to herself as she looked around. A pretty luxurious cave at that, but a cave nonetheless.

Chelan lay down on her shroud, feeling content and a little bit dozy. She rested a long time, but she did not feel altogether well, and sleep eluded her. Suddenly, her eyes shot open, and she held her breath. “Oh god, please,” she whimpered.

She lay very still for a long time, and then she began to cry tears of indisputable joy. She had never dreamed that she could ever be so happy to feel the cramping from deep within her body. But today, she would rejoice. She did not know if Ticees had failed in his act and her period had simply been late due to the stress of her ordeal, or if indeed she had been pregnant, and she was spontaneously aborting. Either way, she did not care. Her body was carrying out its last act of cleansing her internally of him, and she was elated.

“You failed, Ticees!” she mocked. “You failed!” and Chelan coiled up as she embraced the welcomed pain. For her, the universe had just realigned.

*****

With the passing weeks, Chelan was walking easily, and she was beginning to require less sleep. But her Earth hours were clashing with Iceanea’s, and it was more than a little frustrating. Often she was forced to lie awake for hours in total blackness, only to be taken by sleep as the morning dawned. She knew she had to learn to nap for just the right amount of time so that she could sleep during the nights, but scheduling herself would take time.

This night was no exception, and she hunched against the cool wall, at long last wearing her protective uniform once again. It did not matter if her eyes were open or not, for she could see nothing, not even her hands.

Suddenly, she froze. There was someone or something in the cavern with her. Chelan held her breath. She could hear scuffling and lapping noises. She stayed very still, her heart pounding in her ears.

The sounds seemed to be all around her, and silently she pressed back against the wall and drew her shroud over her. Chelan’s unseeing eyes grew large with fear as she felt something scamper over her legs. She jumped and stifled a scream, and immediately there was a loud commotion and then deathly silence. Chelan pulled the shroud tighter about her and curled up, praying for the comforting light of morning.

The dawn came none too soon, but with it, no evidence of the intruders. Chelan’s search was scrupulous, but there were no tracks and no droppings. Whatever they were, they had simply vanished.

Chelan sat down in a shaky heap of frayed nerves. She began dreading the coming night, but then her sense of foreboding turned in to an all-consuming excitement. Animals meant food, and Chelan could barely contain herself. They had to come back, and when they did, she would be ready.

The next evening, Chelan huddled next to the wall, deliberately not heating the rocks with the lazgun. She wondered if that was why they had never come before, for it was odd that they showed up on the first night that she had not blasted the rocks.

She sat very still, her lazgun in hand. She had it set on a low setting, for she wanted to kill one of the creatures without destroying it, and she prayed that she could succeed.

The hours dragged on, and then she was rewarded. She could hear the scampering of little feet and the sounds of lapping water. She raised the gun, using her ears to zero in on their location. Then she squeezed her eyes tight, knowing that the sudden flash from the laser in the blackness would damage her eyes.

Finally, with breath held, she squeezed the trigger. There was squeaking and a frantic scurrying in all directions. Chelan took several deep breaths, her excitement barely containable. She tilted forward from the wall and felt for her shielding stalagmite. She adjusted the gun up slightly and then ducked behind the rock. She closed her eyes and fired at the wall for an extended period of time.

The superheated rocks were now casting a dull red glow about the vicinity. She turned quickly and looked in the direction that she had fired. She edged over by the side of the pool, and there lay the body of a small animal. Her eyes opened wide. It was a Batex. Although she had never seen one of the animals, she could recognize the beautiful, soft, white fur anywhere. She touched the little creature, its body cooling rapidly. It was about the size of a house cat but much stockier and with no tail. Chelan concluded that it looked more akin to a small dog, only with a rodent-like face.

She studied it as she pondered her next move. She decided to leave it by the pond, and she shuffled back to her shroud and the warmth. She knew that if she was to eat the Batex she had to bleed it right away, but she was tired and she felt very uncomfortable about spilling the blood in the blackness of the cave. Who knew what else lurked in the night? And so she huddled down and slept.

Chelan awoke early and immediately set about skinning the small animal. Her knives worked beautifully, and in no time she had gutted it and removed the pelt. She had no idea how to treat hides or how to preserve them, but for reasons she could not explain, she felt an irresistible urge to dunk the pelt in the shimmering pool. Maybe it was because her wounds had healed so quickly once she had begun using the water, or maybe it was simply the need to clean the hide. Either way, she dipped it in, scrubbed it meticulously, and then spread it out to dry.

Chelan then cleaned out the animal’s gut and set it aside. She knew that its intestine would be strong and that maybe, someday, it would come in handy. She chose not to keep any of the internal organs for she was unsure of their toxicity. Then she stripped the bones clean and stored them with the gut. With so few tools available to her, she hoarded everything she possibly could.

She smelled the meat, and it seemed fine, but she would not eat this animal. She took all the remains and dumped them into the far end of the pool. With time they slowly circulated downward and disappeared within the depths of the mysterious waters.

Chelan washed the floor of the cave thoroughly and then sat down to rethink her situation. She had to come up with some strategies. She would continue to take the animals with the lazgun, but it would be infrequently, as she could ill afford to scare them off permanently. She would dress them at the pool at night, but the area would have to be diligently cleaned in the morning. She wanted as much of the lingering scent eradicated so that the small animals were not frightened off.

Chelan knew that they were abundant by the sounds of them. She wondered if the Iceaneans considered them rare because they actually were, or if it was because the majority of them were in the caverns and no one knew that.

She sat down and looked at the little pelt, and thoughts of early man filtered into her mind. She realized that her existence would be easier simply because of the lazgun. It gave her heat, it would cook her food, and it would be her hunter and her protection. The only problem was that she did not know how long the guns would last. She decided that she would only use the one, and she would make a mental note of how often she used it and at what energy settings. That way, she could judge the use of the second, allowing her time to find alternatives if it looked like they were going to die on her.

But right now, she wanted a project to keep herself occupied, and she knew exactly what she would do. She wanted clothes, light ones for exercising, warmer garments for nights, and cloaks. Her uniform served all those functions, but this would keep her busy. Chelan smiled. After all, she was going to be here a long time, and she needed something to keep herself entertained.

Chelan also decided that blankets, washcloths, and many other items were in order, and then a somewhat sad thought struck her. The drain on the Batex population was going to be enormous. But she could not dwell on that if she was going to survive in this realm of limited resources. She needed the meat, and for sanity’s sake, she needed to keep busy with other tasks. But she would have to be careful and extremely patient. Her life depended on the little animals, and since she did not know where they came from or their true numbers, discretion was a must.

Chelan’s mind suddenly exploded with ideas and projects. Some of the meat she would store up by the ice-rock interface, where it would freeze nicely. The rest she would dry using heated rocks. She would throw nothing away except the internal organs, and for some reason, she felt that was wise. She knew nothing about the little animals, and for now she would only chance eating their meat. If she developed any nutrient deficiency symptoms, she would start augmenting her diet with the organs, but only if she had to. And she had so many wonderful garments to plan.

So this was going to be her regimen for a very long time to come. It was simple. In a way it would be fun, but above all, it was now her life.

Chelan’s next quest was to find a permanent piece of ice and to use it to keep track of time. She would use one of Fremma’s throwing knives to carve notches, and that knife would be used strictly for hard surfaces and general work. The other throwing knife and the blue-bladed combat knife would be reserved for the animals only, for she could not afford to dull all her knives. Unfortunately, for the time being, it appeared that she had no way of honing the blades, so maintaining the knife edges was paramount in importance.

It didn’t take her long to realize that she had made the right choice by keeping the bones and guts of the animals. She would chip the finer bones to make needles, and she would use the gut as a binding agent for the garments. Chelan smiled. In no time she would be a bona fide furrier.

*****

The days passed into weeks, and the weeks turned into months. Chelan had bagged a multitude of the animals, and still they came to her at night. She had enough meat stored and dried to supply a small army, and she kept it under mountains of loose rocks just in case her small, furry friends were carnivorous.

Chelan had begun to manufacture what she had to admit were beautiful garments. Most of them she kept furred, but a few of the lightweight pieces that she would use for working out she crafted from the leather. She knew from school that Earth’s Inuit people had once chewed their pelts into a feathery softness, but she didn’t have to. It didn’t take her long to discover that by keeping the pelts immersed in the strange waters of the pool for an extended period of time, the process produced some of the softest, most buttery leather she had ever felt. In fact, the water was the key to everything. If she stripped the animal and dunked the pelt instantly, not only did the leather soften beautifully, the fur remained tightly adhered and never molted. If she waited about an hour before soaking the pelt, the fur simply sloughed off after a time, leaving her with the ultrasoft leather. It was amazing.

She was meticulous in crafting her garments, her seams and stitches fine and painstakingly executed. Chelan made several low-cut, bra-like tops to wear under her other garments, happy at last to have such attire since she was determined to make sure that her full, upright breasts stayed that way. She also manufactured several bikini bottoms, and she grinned at herself when she first tried them on. She felt just like one of those over-endowed and underdressed cave women in those stupid caveman movies she used to watch when she was young.