Yuen-Mong's Revenge (6 page)

     
It was no use racking her brain any longer that night. She knew she
would not be able to see through the maze of conflicting emotions and
possibilities, and she was tired.

     
When she returned to the cave after having emptied her full bladder,
she was glad that he was asleep. Rather than sleep in the nude as she
usually did when the weather was balmy, she changed into her loose
night clothing. Sleep escaped her. The stranger’s restless tossing and
turning bothered her. His recurrent nightmarish dreams intruded into the
touch of the night creatures — the soothing murmurs that were her
lullaby. So she meditated, blocking it all out.

3

Yuen-mong woke early and was up on the rock when the usual late night
clouds were drifting farther inland and the last rain drops came floating
down, well before the colors of dawn crept into the sky. Sleep had
brought a resolution. She would give the stranger a chance, let events
unroll, and decide then.

     
"Where were you?" he asked when she returned to the cave. He
glanced at her accusingly from his sitting position on the floor, where he
was sorting through the contents of his survival pack. "Was that you
playing the flute?" he added, when he saw the instrument in her hand.

     
"Good morning," she answered, forcing herself to sound cheerful,
while placing the instrument on a shelf next to her sleeping alcove. "Yes,
I join the dawn bird in his morning song every day up on top of the rock."
She pointed to the ceiling.

     
"Ah, that’s why I heard two voices. Which one was you?"

 
     
"I tease the bird first and then I improvised around his song."

 
     
She had the sense that he was not really listening, focused on
something else. She did not have to wait long to know what it was.

     
"I have to get back to my shuttle so that I can start on the repairs. Can
we leave right away?"

 
     
"No, today I have to gather food and fuel, or we will run out. I had
planned to do it yesterday, but then I had to get you."

 
     
"You didn’t really have to get me. I would have been fine. In fact, I’m
rather annoyed to have wasted a whole day. The guys in the mother ship
will wonder why I’ve not contacted them yet."

 
     
He still does not believe me.
There was little point on telling him
again. "If you want to get back to your craft today, you have to go alone."
She turned away, adding: "I am going to wash now."

 
     
She did not give him a chance to protest and went to the rear of the
cave. As she undressed, she felt him starring at her. She did not even
have to turn around to confirm it. It felt unpleasant and she quickly took
the soap and stepped under the drops of water, showing only her back to
him. She could sense that strange stirring in his mind, as he continued to
watch her. Once finished, she had no choice but to face him and go to her
sleeping loft to put on her day clothing. She held her night clothing in
front of her as she passed by him. He did not even pretend to look away.

     
Once dressed, she went outside to let her hair dry and then again
gathered it into a pony tail using her sling. By the time she came back
into the cave, he had finished packing his survival pack.

     
"You brought me here against my will, so you also must show me the
way back."

 
     
She did not respond to that. Her previous statement had been
completely clear, and she did not see why she had to argue it again. So
she only said: "I am going to prepare breakfast now, and you should also
wash yourself thoroughly with soap. You stink."

 
     
His resentment was instant. "Who are you to tell me when to wash?
I stink because you made me run for hours yesterday."

 
     
"The smell is not of exertion, but of fear," she explained and added
in a conciliatory tone: "The water is pleasant and you will feel better
afterward." She turned away and started to prepare two bowls of muesli,
putting extra nuts and sweetberries into his, and filled two mugs with
cold bark tea. She heard him mutter, but then saw him go to the back of
the cave. She took the two bowls and mugs outside onto the balcony,
waiting for him to join her, listening to the murmurs around her.

     
"Feel better?" she asked when he came, looking and smelling clean,
except for the dark stubble around his chin and lower cheeks.

     
"Yes," he answered reluctantly.

     
"This mash is very nutritious, but tastes a bit bland. If you chew it
thoroughly, you will get the full flavor of the sweetberries."

 
     
He took a mouthful and turned up his nose, but continued chewing,
his face relaxing slowly.

     
"I insist that you to take me back to my craft after this."

 
     
Does he not listen?
"Believe me, on this world, survival must always
be up and foremost on your mind and that includes gathering food and
fuel. I am already a day late, and with you here we need more. It cannot
be delayed any longer. So, as I already told you, today we do that." She
sensed his resistance building up. "No, don’t interrupt. I know you do not
believe me and think that you will quickly repair your shuttle, but no
electronics work in this world. You might as well resign yourself to the
fact that you will be stuck here, possibly for ever. So I see no reason why
I should put our survival at risk for a project that is doomed from the
outset. We may be able to visit your shuttle tomorrow to bring back any
useful things."

 
     
"I don’t think you even know what you’re talking about. What do you
know about physics and electronics? You’ve not even experienced electricity. So don’t talk to me anymore about your theory, or your father’s
theory. I probably could have taught your father a lot about electronics
and advanced AI systems too."

 
     
"Probably, but only if you can get them working. Today we stay near
here." Her tone had a finality that did not admit objections.

     
"OK, but tomorrow you’ll take me there." It was said vehemently.

     
"Maybe."

 
     
"What do you mean, maybe?"

 
     
"On this world, you let your life be guided by what is most likely to
let you see another day."

 
     
He kept a sullen silence for the rest of the meal, but she noticed that
he actually chewed the food thoroughly — a sign that he might be able
and willing to learn.

* * *

Atun seemed much amused when he saw the first skin colored timoru
sausages that grew in abundance on low bushes along the coast a
kilometer north of the cave. He took one of the fruits and asked: "Why
do you collect so many? What are they for?"

 
     
He is back to asking two questions at the same time,
she mused.
"They are the basis for the mash we had for breakfast and the bread you
ate yesterday."

 
     
"Do they taste better fresh?" He broke one apart and was just going
to take a bite from the pulp.

     
"Don’t!" she cried. "They are poisonous like this."

 
     
He threw the pieces away and exclaimed: "But we ate that stuff."

 
     
"I have to leach the pulp first for four days in a lime solution, wash it
afterward in fresh water several times, and then ferment it. That removes
the poisons and breaks down the fibers for easier digestion."

 
     
"How did you find that out?"

 
     
"My mother did. She was a chemist and she taught me."

 
     
"Are they also poisonous to these ant scavengers we saw last night?"

 
     
"Yes, when they are fresh, but the poisons break down when they
begin to rot."

 
     
He showed no inclination to helping her harvest the fruit, but
willingly carried the two bags she had filled, while she collected green
plants, similar to cress that grew in swampy places. He trudged along,
constantly asking questions about Aros, especially about the savages.
They seemed to intrigue him, although he did not hide his disdain for
their primitive lifestyle of living in small clans of between fifty and
eighty adults and for their barbaric practice of raiding other clans, killing
any men who did not run away or offered resistance and then capturing
the younger females. He seemed particularly interested in their practice
to offer periodically a person, usually a captured male or older female, in
sacrifice to the craws which they worshiped and hoped to appease in this
way. But she did not have the impression that he was really interested. It
seemed more a means to pass the time, that he was preoccupied by
something else. If she finally had shaken his disbelief about the magnetic
field of Aros disabling all electronics, it was a promising start.

     
The thorntree was her preferred fuel. It grew slowly, therefore its
wood was very dense. A mature tree was ten to twelve meters tall, a thin
trunk of arms thickness, with short leafless branches of no more that a
meter in length, sticking out at right angles like thorns all around the
trunk. Her father had explained to her that the greenish bark of the
branches also did the function of photosynthesis. She selected one about
two hundred yards from her rock and started the cut with her short saw
a foot off the ground, just below the first branches. After five minutes,
she was about halfway through and handed the saw to him. He took it
reluctantly, but finished the cut. She pushed the tree over just before he
was completely through. Next, she began snapping off the branches one
by one. Seeing how easily she did it, he wanted to try too, but only
managed to twist the branch. She told him that there was a trick to it and
that she would show him another time. In the meantime he could carry
the branches to where the rope came down from the cave.

     
She had almost finished removing the branches, when she suddenly
felt a disturbance and stopped working, closing her eyes, listening
intently.

     
"What’s the matter?" he asked, watching her curiously.

     
She held up her hand, signaling to him to be quiet. There it was again,
the typical chaotic emanations coming from a group of savages, not very
far to the south. "Savages are coming this way. We should get back to the
cave. We may just have time to haul most of the branches up."

 
     
"Why the hurry since you claim they’re afraid of you?" His tone of
voice was mocking.

     
"Because I cannot tell how many there are. It sounds like a big party."

 
     
"Suddenly scared, are you?"

 
     
"No, just prudent … and I have no point to prove, nor do I like to kill
unnecessarily. We must hurry."

 
     
They carried the rest of the branches to the rope, where she quickly
bundled them into faggots of a dozen or so. She pulled herself up the
rope a few yards and came down with the two ends of a second, thinner
rope. She asked him to climb up and unhook the bundles as she hauled
them up, and then send the thin rope down again. A quarter hour later all
eight bundles were on the ledge, and shortly after that she returned too.
It was just past midday.

     
"Do they know the location of the cave?" he asked, while she was preparing lunch.

     
"They probably know the general area where I live, but not where the
cave is. This is another reason why I would rather not have an encounter
with them near here. They rarely come into this area, except when they
go on one of their raiding parties. This area is the no-man’s-land between
two groups."

 
     
"Can you still sense them?"

 
     
"Yes, but they are moving away."

 
     
"Have you really killed one of them?"