Under the Canopy (10 page)

'Fuck off!' I screamed, and the possum stopped. It sized down and froze in its place. When I didn't try to kill it, the animal moved again.

I picked a clod of frozen earth and threw it at the animal. 'FUCK OFF I SAID!' My projectile hit the dirt near it. The possum shrank down again, looking at me. I returned the gaze and instantly knew that it wouldn’t stop
.

The ice pick!
It was my only available weapon in this situation. The possum started to move again. The ice pick was locked under the scooter. I fished my hand down, pushing it between the metal, the earth and my leg. The weapon was on my belt.

The possum was crawling, I could hear the rustling of its claws over the earth.

My sleeve got stuck on something. I pushed harder and tore it. My fingers touched the ice pick. I grabbed the blade and pulled it up.

The possum was closer, I could smell its stinky fur.

The blade wouldn't go. I started to jerk it up, cutting my raincoat more. It didn't matter. At last, the ice pick emerged from under the scooter. I grabbed it by the shaft and turned to the enemy. The possum hissed into my face, I saw its ocher mouth and tongue. And teeth, of course, a lot of teeth. I struck it with the pick. The animal jumped back, its fur standing up on the back.

'Fuck off, you rat!' I yelled and waved the ice pick in front of it.

The possum kept hissing, but wouldn't go away. I lunged at the animal, trying to pierce its skull. The blade struck only the earth. The animal shut up and moved away. Finally!
My jubilation was premature. The possum crawled down. It couldn't get to the face, so it went for the legs.

My legs. I wouldn't even feel the bite. What if it was poisonous?
I lowered the ice pick and tried to look down and couldn't! The scooter was blocking the view. I started to scream at the beast, not sure that it would help at this point.

A shot rang out, followed by a squeak and the sound of rolling earth. I looked up. Ort was standing over the edge, rifle in hand.

'Ort! Help me!' I waved the ice pick to him like a flag.

He nodded and went away. Ort returned on his scooter. He descended into the pit and hovered over me. Ort took out big pincers and leaned over the seat. He was going to cut the rope.

'No, Ort! Don't do—' Too late. The winch flew open and lashed to the side. The scooter fell on me. I couldn't breathe.

'Hang on,' Ort said calmly. He took the rusted scooter by the saddle and flew away on his own machine. The derelict rose from my chest, assumed vertical position and then fell to the side. I watched the machine tumble down the pit to the bottom. When the scooter reached it, something gave, and it fell down deeper. A black hole gaped at me. I was atop a cavern, after all.

I sat up, pushing myself on the hands. 'My legs are asleep.'

'Don't think so.' Ort took me with one hand and jerked upward, dropping on the seat behind him. We rose out of the pit in that manner.

When we landed, I stepped on the ground, swaying on my feet. He was right, they were just numb a bit. I looked around. The scooter was there, waiting for me. The winch was still wrapped around the tree and went back into the pit.

I turned to Ort, breathing air and rubbing the chest. 'The alien, he…' I puffed.

'Yes, R'lok. He told me about your problem.' He looked over the scenery. 'The fuck happened?'

I didn't know what to say and didn't really want to. He would consider me an idiot forever. 'Just… things. Some stuff that I needed to do.' I paused and wanted to say something else, but only shrugged and smiled.

Ort was stone-faced. 'Alright. Be careful with your stuff.' He looked around again. 'Need help?'

'I think not. I'll clean the mess myself.'

'Good for you. I'll be going then.' He turned to the dashboard, ready to fly away.

'Wait,' I said. 'What's with R'lok?'

Ort peered at me. 'He went back into the woods.' He said nothing else and kept staring.

'OK. Bye. Thanks for the help.' I raised my hand still holding the ice pick and dropped it.

Ort solemnly nodded and flew away. I followed him with my eyes until he disappeared out of sight. For some reason, I didn't want to do anything in his presence.

When Ort was gone, I took out the board-card and looked at it. So much trouble over such a small thing. I closed the palm and put the card back into my pocket. The mess needed cleaning up.

The clerk was tapping his pen on the table while looking at the file before him. 'Tch-tch-tch.' He sighed and raised his eyes to me. 'Young man, I think you are unfit to be a forest ranger.'

I couldn't find the words and slapped my rifle on the table. 'Sir, I've told you already that I'm perfect for the job. I'm Wealder!'

The lemur clerk pushed the rifle away from him with one pale finger. 'Corporal, we have received reports of you. Non-flattering ones. You have shown total ineptitude to coping with the forest. And this one.' The clerk leaned under the table and slapped another file in front of me. 'This one says that you have a severe case of puttering.'

I stared at the file that was dirty with greasy fingerprints. 'No, I'm not.'

'YES, YOU'RE, FUCK FACE!' a voice roared at me.

I looked up and saw Ort leaning towards me. He looked furious, and his beard seemed to move all by itself. 'JUST LOOK AROUND!' His voice went even higher, and he spread his big arms. I did what he told me to do.

The room was gone, and we were sitting in the forest. The woods were dark and covered in smoky mist. Something was moving in the distance, beyond the veil of haze. Something big and blazing. I squinted to have a better look at it. Ort grabbed me by the jaw and jerked my head to him. His steel fingers pressed the flesh of my cheeks to the teeth. His red face was right before me.

'YOU PIECE OF SHIT YOU KNOW NOTHING YOU FUCK YOU,' he kept screaming into my face until I couldn't understand a single word he was saying. It all melted into one long wail that stripped my face of the flesh.

A blaring siren awakened me. That was the day when my problems really began. Still grasping for consciousness, I thought it might be the alarm clock and searched with my hand on the nightstand. Then I remembered I didn't have an alarm clock. And a nightstand for that matter. I sat up and rubbed my eyes, the siren cutting through me. Finally, I jumped out of bed and ran to the crow's nest. I turned on the computer and checked the screens. Everything peaceful. I realized it must be the cabin alarm. Someone was attacking the building.

Still not understanding what was happening, I switched to the perimeter cameras and leaned to the screen. I saw a downshot of the pilings and the one-eyed alien standing just before them. R'lok didn't even try to conceal himself and was throwing rocks at the cabin's basis.

'What the…' I said under my breath and dropped into the chair. I couldn't believe what I was seeing. The alien came to visit me.

Meanwhile, R'lok stopped throwing rocks and took the flashlight out of his belt. He started flashing it right into the camera. The image blinked like stroboscope.

I looked at him. R'lok looked rough, but not as repulsive as the first time. I remembered Heap, the old drunk, and his alienist masters. What if this man wanted my help? After the sawmill affair I had a bad taste in my mouth, like it was me who shot those natives. And he helped me in the pit.
I drummed my fingers on the table and then decided to meet him eyes to eye. I got up and went for the rifle. The second rule, baby. However, when I opened the armory, I opted for a shotgun.

On the way to the garage I realized the aliens couldn't be ignorant of the cabin's location. After all, it was their forest. I pushed the button, and the platform started its descent.

The motors buzzed, the platform clicked as it went down, and I grabbed my weapon tighter. I could see the alien on the ground, he stopped signaling with the flashlight and was looking right at me. I must have looked imposing. Thunder-weapon in hand, coming down from the heavens. I almost expected him to sing Hosanna at me, but instead he waved. You know, like regular people do. When he raised his hand, I saw a shiny ax tucked into his belt. If the alien jumped at me, I would blow a hole through him or two. I instantly reproached myself for such alienist thoughts. He obviously had come in peace.

The platform touched down. We looked at each other. Finally, I had a better look at him. R'lok was scarred, to put it mildly. He had cuts on his naked arms, neck and face. The covered parts of him probably had more marks. The eye wound looked like someone stuck a burning twig into his socket and dragged it to the side. The eye socket was torn open near the temple, giving his face asymmetrical look. The flesh around it froze in flesh bubbles. I checked the ax, it was a regular metal hatchet you can buy at any craft store. That added another level of weirdness to the whole situation.

R'lok inspected me in turn, I could see his eye dart over my clothes and the shotgun. Then he spread his arms and dropped a quite elegant curtsy.

'Hello, thundergod. My name R'lok.'

'Hello,' I said and awkwardly smiled. 'My name is Wealder.' I still held the shotgun between us. 'Do you like my gift?'

R'lok made another bow, waving the flashlight in the air. 'Yes, Wealder. Lightstick good and pretty.' He made a rotating palm gesture in the air. 'You like ax?'

I remembered how I tripped over it. The scratch on the wall. 'Yes. I find it a beautiful piece of work.'

He seemed a bit confused by that. Maybe, the alien didn't attach beauty aesthetics to the weapon. R'lok made a furtive glance at the muzzle of my shotgun. 'I come in peace,' he said, 'I seek help from you, thundergod.' He stopped waiting for a response. When none followed, he looked up.

The ax made me remember another thing that should have jumped at me right away. I was looking at him, my eyes squinted, and the mouth slightly open. 'Answer me one thing, R'lok. Does it concern a weapon just like this one?' I shook the shotgun in my hands, still aiming.

R'lok watched the black muzzle dancing before him. Then he turned and looked into my face. 'Yes,' he said.

I was thunderstruck, but tried not to show it. I felt for the trigger. 'Did you take it from me? Answer honestly, R'lok.'

R'lok obviously saw the change of mood in me. I was ready for anything, but what he did next. R'lok dropped on his knees and pressed his forehead to the ground. 'Do not destroy me, o mighty thundergod. I but humble man and would never dare to cross you.'

I saw the shriveled figure before me and remembered the warrior I saved. The alien was stepping over himself to stay on my good side, possibly embarrassing himself. I felt sorry for him and lowered the shotgun.

'Get up, R'lok,' I said. 'Let's talk like men.'

R'lok glanced upward, his face the image of obedience. 'As you say, thundergod.' He got up on his feet.

'Tell me, R'lok, who took my weapon?'

'Bad man,' R'lok said. 'Warrior, strong and mean. He stole your thunderstick. He used it to gain power. He invaded other villages and took over them. That should not be. Stop him. Please.'

I couldn't answer right away to that plea. On one hand, I wasn't supposed to intervene in their politics. The humans didn't care who ruled whom in the deep woods. On the other hand, R'lok came to me in person and asked for help. The disaster he spoke of was caused by my carelessness. I remembered the massacre at the river, how the spear went up and down, stabbing the woman on the ground. This conquest was on my conscience.

'Listen, R'lok,' I said. 'I will help you. Word of a thundergod.'

R'lok beamed. 'Honorable thundergod!' He clapped his hands together. 'Brave thundergod!'

I raised my hand, and R'lok silenced himself. 'But first, I need to talk to other thundergods. I can't do it alone. Meet me at the place where I saved you. This evening, when the sun will be close to the horizon.'

R'lok gave me a questioning look. 'What means horizon?'

I stalled and raised an eyebrow. Fucking forest people. 'Forget about it. Just come here when it gets darker. There will be a meeting.'

'Yes, I will come.' R'lok started to back away in a half-bow. 'I will not forget your help, thundergod.'

My first inclination was to wave him goodbye, but I thought it too silly and didn't do it. Instead, I just pushed the button and ascended back into the cabin. R'lok's eye followed me as the elevator went up until I disappeared inside.

I couldn't waste a second. As soon as the platform entered the garage, I jumped up on the edge and dashed to the elevator. Ascending to the crow's nest, I dropped the shotgun near the computer and sent summoning calls to Edlon and Ort.
In just a few hours there would be a war council at my cabin.
The thought thrilled me.

While I waited for my colleagues to answer, an unexpected message reached my computer. From the sawmill. I smirked and stroked the cursor ball. I didn't want to open. My first urge was just to delete it and cut all communication with them. But then I reasoned that it was better to stay politely cold and know the enemy, so I opened it.

'Greetings, Wealder,' it read. 'We at the sawmill hope that you are in good health and enjoy your job. We fear that a certain misunderstanding took place the day we first met. Don't think that we are all alien haters here. Quite the opposite, we respect every sentient species, and—'

I looked away from the screen. Blah, blah, that's was it told me. They were alienists alright and didn't even try to conceal it. I could forgive Heap, free will and all, but the pole spoke for itself. Morkan even justified it herself! Now they were trying to coax me into further cooperation and "friendship."
Bullshit. This piece of crap was as personal as a postcard you buy in a vending machine at the last moment. "We hope you get well!" and a picture of some puppy with flowers. I scrolled down and found no dogs, cats or other animals in the note. However, I saw that it was signed by Morkan herself. Figures.

Just to make sure that I wouldn't miss anything vital, I jumped to the last part.

'… We hope that we will have a long and fruitful relationship with you, Wealder. We don't insist that you visit us every week or anything of that kind, but we feel obliged to offer you an invitation. On the last day of winter, which is also the end of this logging season, we will have a closing party. You and other rangers are most welcome to visit and join the fun. Your participation will lay the foundation for our rebooted relationship in the next season.'

A party. It was still more than a month before it. I didn't want to go right now, but future me might change his mind. After all, living in the woods can get monotonous, and any change would be welcomed.

I typed 'We will see.' and sent the reply back to the sawmill.

The sky was darkening. Pacing the roof of the cabin, I considered the present situation.

First, I called Ort, but the man didn't answer. To me, he was the only one who could help me in such a crisis. I felt naked without him.

Second, Edlon. He promised to arrive in time and was already ten minutes late. I was already considering the worst.

And third, R'lok. My view of him kept shifting. Hero, monster, weirdo, hero again? Who was this man? And his human manners… I couldn't understand why a forest man would imitate us, it didn't make sense. Did he have no pride, like Heap? R'lok remained a mystery to me.

I heard humming echoing down the forest and looked up. I saw the sun blinking off the hull of Edlon's scooter. Edlon was here.

He arrived at the platform and circled over it. I waved to him and lowered the palms down -
land
. Edlon grinned and showed me his thumb. His scooter touched the concrete with its pegs.

Edlon walked to me, grinning and adjusting the rifle. I could bet he wouldn't even try to explain himself.

'Howdy, roomie,' Edlon said, looking me over. 'Why so gloomy?' He tried to sound cheerful, but I could feel stretched strings in his voice.

I sighed and gestured to the elevator. 'Come. I'll tell you on the way down.'

Edlon shrugged and pushed his goggles on the forehead. We entered the elevator, and I sent us to the garage. After that, I turned to Edlon and told him about the night camp.

We stepped out of the elevator into the garage. Edlon was hysterically laughing, and I followed him, sullen. Ha-ha, you ass… Edlon gulped for air and stopped. He sidestepped and looked at the lone scooter. After that, the fucker began to laugh again, doubled over and propped himself against the wall. He stopped and wiped away the tears.

Edlon took a deep breath through the nose and looked at me. 'I knew that there was something,' he said. ‘But this!'

'Yeah-yeah,' I said, embarrassed and tired of this. 'I acted like an idiot, it happens. That's not the point. I know who has the rifle.'

Edlon underwent a startling change. Anything jolly in his face was blown away, and a hard crease appeared around his mouth. 'Who?' He walked towards the elevator platform, his steps too loud in the uneasy silence.

I think he knew what I would say. 'An alien. A chief on the war path.'

Edlon looked at me, not believing and believing at the same time. His palm squeezed the shoulder strap of the rifle all by itself. 'So what do you propose we do now?' Edlon spoke low, almost a whisper. 'Does Ort know?'

I gave him a sad smile and put my hand on the platform control board. 'My answer to both questions — I don't know. First, we go down.'

Edlon looked at the platform with disquiet, but stepped onto it nevertheless. I pushed the button, and the elevator started its descent to the surface.