The Start of Time

by Marilyn Foxworthy

7. Take the other compass. This one is set to show the way back to this cave, no matter where you are.

  Good luck to you, Man of Earth. May we meet in Helium.

  John Carter.”

  Under the tablet was a small sack with a handful of colored stones, a few pieces of what appeared to be gold coins, a strange compass, a black-bladed knife, and a small number of journal pages written on a thin plastic like material. There was also a belt that would fit around my waist for carrying both the bag and the knife.

  I placed the items on the belt and fastened it around my waist. Let’s see. Learn to walk. Find water. Find a beautiful Martian girl. It sounded pretty straightforward.

  Of course, contrary to Carter’s insistence, this was not Mars. It may be Barsoom, it may be a red planet, but according to everything that we had learned about Mars in the past hundred years, it was not Mars. But, close enough.

  Wow, I felt good. Here I was. Alive. Well, alive and naked with just a knife and a bag of magic beans, but alive and feeling good, nonetheless. There was nothing more to do. The path out was lit by the same blue lamps all the way to the surface. I paid special attention to walking. It was different to be so light on my feet and it was easy to over-stride. I’d feel more confident to try bigger steps once I was outside where the chances of injury were less than in the confined spaces of the cave tunnel.

  I reached the opening to the outside without incident and easily hoisted myself into the open air. The cave mouth lie in a depression in the ground, about 15 feet below the surrounding terrain. Stones strewn about the edge of the rim would make it difficult to pick out from a distance as being anything but part of the almost flat plain that surrounded it. Looking around, all that could be seen was an enormous slightly rolling plain of greenish-yellow mossy ground-covering. It was soft underfoot, but not at all moist.

  And, it was hot. It might have been about 95 to 105 degrees, and dry. It was surprising that there was vegetation at all, especially this unending sea of it. I looked at the two compasses from the bag at my belt and identified the one that should point toward a settlement. It was indicating a direction off to the left of the direction I was facing and I turned that way. And I started walking.

  I went very carefully at first. I was very light on my feet and didn’t feel a need to start by jumping into the air and landing in a heap the way that the stories described in Carter’s first encounter with the planet’s much lower gravity. I went by degrees, shuffling small steps that took me only a foot or two at each tiny step, gradually working my way up to where I easily took six to eight feet at a stride. I varied my pace often. If I was going to survive here, and I had every intention of doing so, I would need to be agile and quick on my feet. My practice was deliberate: walking, walking quickly, moving quietly and slowly, running, sprinting, jumping over imagined obstacles, and leaping high in the air from imagined foes. I practiced dodges, somersaults, and rolls in all directions.

  I had no way of telling time, but I may have spent several hours at this. In my previous martial arts practice, I had developed an appreciation for long hours of tedious practice while building muscle memory, and this was building skills that I hoped would save my life. The deliberate nature of the exercise made the time pass easily, even if I had no idea how long it actually took.

  Always moving in the same direction, I covered a lot of distance, but the scenery stayed essentially the same. Always the endless plain of greenish-yellow moss. Always the slightly rolling flatness unbroken by hill, mountain, or even tree. I was surprised at how little I was sweating, despite the heat. Perhaps it was because of the lack of clothing. I did start to get thirsty after several hours of constant motion. My expectation was that I would see evidence of a town or city of some kind in the distance at any moment, but I still hadn’t seen anything but the plain and the moss.

  As the daylight began to fade, I was becoming increasingly tired and thirsty and decided that I had made a mistake in not reading the instructions that Carter had left for me about finding something to eat and drink. Sitting down in the middle of the mossy sea, I took the pages from my bag and read what I probably should have read hours before.

  “Traveler, Barsoom is a dry planet. Since you are here, I know that you must have read my manuscripts, or you would not have found the cave and come this far. Again, I do not know how much time may have passed between me and you, but I assume no more than perhaps 10 or 20 years. Barsoom changes slowly, and the information I leave for you should be accurate enough to be useful.

  The settlement that you pursue is about four days journey, but for an earth man, unencumbered, perhaps only two or three at most. I would hurry if I were you. Your concern is water. I regret that I was unable to leave you a supply in the cave, but it would have evaporated within a short time due to the extreme dryness regardless of the skin or container that it was placed in.

  There are three ways in which you should look for moisture:

  First, at first light, most mosses will have gathered dew overnight. It will dry very quickly as the sun rises, but just before dawn, you should scoop the moss between your hands and then lick the moisture from your skin. This is tedious, but it will replenish a bit of the water that you have lost on the previous day.

  Second, if you watch the moss carefully, you will occasionally find a patch slightly more green than yellow. If you can find this, you will upon close examination, determine that the vegetation contains berries, green and blue, the size of peas. This is the flowering phase of the moss. Picking these berries and chewing upon them will release stored moisture that will sustain you. The berries may be collected in a pouch or bag to be consumed throughout the day. Concerning both the moss and the berries, it has a very bitter taste and may cause discomfort if swallowed and digested. I advise against it - chew the berries to release the juice, ignore the bitter taste, and spit the pulp. If you collect sufficient amounts and have the leisure to do so, the berries may be crushed, filtered, and the liquid boiled to remove the bitter taste and make the resultant drinkable by the cup.

  Third, and most preferable, is to find a spring. These are rare on Barsoom, but because water is so scarce, they become easy to spot if you are near one. Look for the formation of a haze in the air - signs of free evaporation. Look for a deeper coloring to the vegetation running through the ground and follow it to its source. Look for a gathering of animal life, but be aware that almost all of it will be dangerous, as they may be lodging near a source of water.

  For food, you may have to go without until you reach either a settlement where ground crops are cultivated or a small forest where certain edible plants my grow. The plant life used for food is highly nourishing and you will find that you need not nearly as much as you would expect. In extreme need, it is possible to eat almost any small mammal or large mammary that you may find. Certainly, the latter is much preferred to the former. Skin, gut, and cook the small prey if possible. If not, you can bite from it raw and though the taste may be unpleasant, in dire circumstances, you will appreciate it nonetheless. The second option, on the other hand, is most pleasant and if you are fortunate in that area, you will find that your way becomes much easier and sweet in all respects. I wish you every success in that arena.

  This is all I have to offer on the subject. Remember to procure a weapon at your first opportunity and pray that it comes not too late. Let us meet someday in Helium.”

  Well, the light was now too low to search for the berries described. I would have to wait for near dawn and collect dew from the moss. For tonight, I would sleep in the open. I checked that my knife was at my side, and lay down on my back to sleep. I hadn’t seen any animals all day long, but I couldn’t be sure that there wouldn’t be any. There was nothing that I could do though. There wasn’t anywhere to shelter or get off the ground, so it was in the open or nothing.

  As I relaxed, I chuckled at Carter’s puns about finding a large mammary to drink from. Yeah, that would be more pleasant by far than chewing on bitter t
asting berries. What would it be like when I did come to a settlement populated by nudists? I was comfortable enough by myself today, but among others, what would that be like? I really hoped that it wouldn’t be overly embarrassing; that my body didn’t betray me with an erection at the wrong times. People in other countries were much more comfortable with nudity than westerners, and they did fine. Maybe I would be fine as well. All I could do was wait and see. This moment called for sleep. First thing in the morning called for collecting dew.

  When I woke up, it was just turning light. It was my second day on the ‘Red Planet’. Today I had better find water. Food would be good too. Food could wait though.

  Carter was right, the moss around me was wet with dew. I got on my knees and scooped my hands across it and collected the moisture on my palms and fingers. There wasn’t enough in a scoop to actually drink, but as suggested, I could lick the wetness from my skin. It really was tedious. Just a drop or two with each pass over the moss. It took probably 30 minutes for me to get even a few ounces, even working as quickly as I could. By the time it was fully light, the ground had dried.

  I wasted no more time. I set my face in the direction of the compass and started to run. My pace was very fast, but sustainable. I scanned the ground to each side and in front of me as I ran. Look for a patch of moss more green than yellow. A few possibilities appeared, maybe one an hour, but each one turned out to be a dead end. No berries. Maybe it was too early in their flowering cycle. So, I ran on. Hour after hour, stride after stride.

  After I don’t know how long, tiredness was setting in again and so was dehydration. I could feel the nausea start to build and a light-headed feeling caused me to slow down. Finally, I stopped and doubled over on my knees, panting and near vomiting. I was suddenly in anguish, sick to my stomach and my head was pounding. I was dizzy. I was sick. This was bad.

  The world began to swim in circles around me and I curled into a ball and lay on my side. I expected that if I could calm myself that I would lower my heart rate and begin to recover. It would be unpleasant, but I’d be fine in a little bit. But I was wrong. I was very wrong. I passed out.

  Chapter 6 Refreshment and Learning the Language

  I don’t know how long I was unconscious. My next sensation was of a sweet tasting liquid filling my mouth and me swallowing instinctively. I didn’t open my eyes immediately, but felt a hand push my mouth open once more and another fine stream of the nectar was being poured between my parched lips. Again, I closed my mouth and swallowed. My mouth was pressed open again, and this time, a wine skin or water bag of some sort was pushed into my mouth. I felt the wet nipple of the thing against my lips and I sucked at it, craving the life-giving moisture. I took several small drinks from the thing and began to regain my senses somewhat.

  The skin was pulled away from my mouth and then replaced a few short seconds later and I sipped at it again. This time, as I sucked at the thing, drawing liquid into my eager mouth, I heard a moaning sound…and I managed to open my eyes. I was completely unprepared for the sight that met my gaze!

  I was lying on my back, stretched out where I had collapsed. Above me knelt a young woman, on her hands and knees, her face inches from my own…and the thing in my mouth, nourishing me and bringing me back to life, was her own large breast! I swallowed what was in my mouth and sputtered and began coughing as I choked in surprise. At this, the girl sat back on her thighs and pressed her hand to my forehead to prevent me from rising.

  I continued to cough for a moment as I cleared the fluid that I had accidentally inhaled, the girl leaning over me and finally laying herself on top of my chest and holding me with her arms, whispering what seemed to be soothing words in a foreign language. I calmed myself as best I could and tried to hear the words spoken to me.

  Carter’s manuscript and the published stories agreed on the fact that the language of Barsoom was spoken, but also largely telepathic. I didn’t understand a word that the girl said, but impressions of meanings seemed to come to my thoughts. It felt like, “Calm, peace…sorry, apologize…death, dying, life…obligation, love, commitment…rest, care, wait.”

  Moment by moment, she spoke to me by impressions in my mind and words that I didn’t understand. Moment by moment I recovered both my senses and my strength. The girl held me and comforted me. It felt as though she poured her own life into my body. By instinct, I gently put my arms around her, holding very loosely, and when she didn’t pull away, I hugged my body to hers.

  As I hugged her against me, the message became something like, “approval, yes, good…warm, hold, safe…rest, wait, care,” and again, “Sorry, forgive…needed, necessary.”

  My breathing returned to me and I started regaining some strength. I felt more refreshed by the second. The girl pulled back and I let her go…and she leaned over me again and offered me her breast, pressing it to my lips! I hesitated for the briefest of seconds, and then sucked at the nipple and swallowed the life she gave me. I heard her moan and felt “pleasure, good…arousal, desire…guilt, forgive, sorry,” and then a burst of wordless joy! She quickly pulled back and shoved the other breast at me and I pulled a long stream of breast milk from her as she moaned, loudly this time, and I felt her burst out in another wave of “sex, joy-love”.

  I think that the girl had just experienced at least two orgasms! Simply from having me suck on her tits! After the second one, she lay on top of me again and hugged me tightly against herself. And then I felt the “regret, sorry…death…obligation, duty,” as she nuzzled my chest with her cheek. About a minute later, she sat up and then stood and pulled me to my feet with “Come, go, rise…please, for me…immediate, hurry, urgent”.

  Then I had my first look at her. She was stunning. And as I had been told to expect, absolutely naked…except for a belt like my own and hanging from it, a knife and bag. The bag and knife hung at the side of her hips, not in the front. She was completely hairless, except for long golden-yellow hair on her head and trailing down to her mid back. Her skin was very tanned, with a reddish tint to it and her eyes were blue.

  She was the shapeliest woman I had ever seen, even in photographs. She stood about five-foot-eight-inches, just four inches shorter than myself. Her hips were perfectly rounded and firm. The breasts that I had recently sucked at were large and amazingly beautiful, the nipples pronounced and firm, standing away from her areola about a half an inch. I suspected that the lower gravity here was responsible for a womanly shape that could never be duplicated on Earth. She was overall, breathtaking!

  I was steady on my feet now. The breast milk had refreshed me in an astounding way. The girl pulled at my hand to follow her in the direction that I had been traveling and I nodded and let her lead the way. We ran hand in hand, me slowing my stride to match her pace. After about 15 minutes or so, I believed that we would make better time if I carried her, and stopping, I forced her onto my back, looked at my compass and started off at a run, making twice the speed that we had done before.

  The girl held on to my neck and it was a little awkward at first, but soon, she started matching her body bounces to my gait and I was able to take even longer strides. She pointed over my shoulder, about 15 degrees to the right of where I was headed. I looked at my compass, shook my head, and continued on my course.

  I felt her saying, “No, not, quit…far, many, infinite…please, yield…come, go…hurry, urgent,” and she pointed again.

  I listened to the girl and veered in the direction she indicated. As I ran, she occasionally pointed to adjust my course and I ran on for at least an hour.

  As I ran, I thought about what had happened back where she found me. I was dying. The breast milk, while unexpected, saved me. And I had to admit, it tasted really good. Sweet and thick, like cream flavored with honey. When she had offered it to me the second time, and I hesitated, it was because I didn’t want to take advantage or impose, but here my frequent reading of Burroughs’ stories served me well. In so many of the stories, the formula was for th
e hero to meet a heroine, fall in love, unwittingly offend the woman by a misunderstanding of the customs, and then spend the remainder of the story trying to find out what he had done wrong.

  Isn’t that what we all do so often? Try to take responsibility for someone else’s actions and choices? Assuming that somehow we know better what they should do than they do? Letting people make their own choices in the right circumstances made for much better relationships. If she wanted me to suck at her breast and be revived by her body, why should I refuse? If I wanted to die alone on a mossy plain on a foreign planet, well that would be my business as well, but I didn’t, so taking what she freely offered was the only logical choice…and she certainly wasn’t acting like the choice had offended her.

  I felt like I had passed the first real test of my new life. And I had achieved at least some of Carter’s encouragement to find a beautiful Martian girl. Oh and now I remembered his other instruction to have her teach me to talk. Now I also understood his comment about being nourished by ‘a large mammary’.

  I assumed that our haste was due to the fact that my companion didn’t carry any water, and that if we didn’t reach some, that we would both suffer for it. I didn’t know how long her body would sustain me, and I didn’t want to test it.

  OK, I needed to learn to talk. I stopped for a moment and set the girl on the ground and faced her and smiled. I took her hand in mine and placed it on my chest and said, “Mark” and thought about the concept of a name and what it meant to be called something. I patted her hand against my chest and repeated the word and the thought.

  The girl smiled and said, “Mark” and I felt ‘you, person, man’, and then she pulled my hand to her chest and said, “ Aeyli-ah” ‘me, I, woman, name’. She repeated it as a sentence and I heard, “I am Aeyli-ah. My name is Aeyli-ah. You are Mark”, but there was also ‘question, uncertainty’. I tried to remember the words that she had said and did my best to say, “My name is Mark.” Aeyli-ah smiled and I said, “You are Aeyli-ah”. I pointed to my foot and said, “Name” and added the question mark thought. Aeyli-ah told me the word and then held up her hand and told me the word for that.