Caveman Alien’s Enemy

by Skye, Calista

  Her eyes are large and dark and wet.

  And clear, crystal-like.

  Living crystal. The beauty tears at me. They would not have that beauty if dead.

  I place my lips against hers.

  Softness. Warmth. Life. A little gasp that makes my crotch swell.

  I disengage, but still hold her face.

  In my dragon form, I might be able to determine if she’s telling the truth. But probably not. Even then, my powers have their limits. The power to put lesser beings in a trance by my sheer appearance can only last for a short time. Mia is clearly not under that kind of spell anymore. I am too familiar to her now. She’s even able to keep eye contact with me.

  Why is she not cowering? Why did she not kill me when she had the chance? Why did she not torture me to death that first night, when she had all power over me?

  And why am I not furious over what she did to me?

  I snarl in frustration and let go of her face.

  “Is everything okay, Kyandros?”

  For a moment I can’t believe my ears. Then the snarl turns into a scream of frustration. “Grrraaaargh!”

  How dare she ask me a question like that? Asking about my welfare? With what appears to be actual concern? Does she not know how that degrades me?

  “Do you not know how that degrades me?”

  “I just… you seem so upset.”

  Still she doesn’t cower or beg for mercy. Even in this human form, I know I am impressive to her. She can feel that my power is much greater than hers, I know it. And yet she behaves like an equal.

  Should I not leave? Go out into the snow and continue the search for a hoard?

  But everything must be buried by the snow. Even if there were nuggets of gold lying around on the ground, I couldn’t see nor get to them.

  Perhaps, I should find the Duchess and try to counteract all the lies and derogatory things old Galindilan will doubtlessly tell her about me.

  It’s not necessary. She was never that gullible. She knows the males in her entourage fear me. I should not act like one of her supplicants. I should behave like an equal there as well. Keep my distance and not appear concerned about what the female thinks about me. She always liked me, anyway.

  Decision made, then. I’ll stay here. With Mia.

  I can’t help feeling satisfied at that outcome. It was exactly what I wanted to do.

  “You want to help me here?”

  I turn. Mia is holding something up. It’s one of the jawbones of the large predator I killed earlier and from which Mia has made garments. The large teeth are uneven and ugly.

  “No.”

  “Oh, come on. It’ll be fun.”

  I saunter over and peer down at her. “I doubt it.”

  “I think these bones can make a good saw. The teeth are very sharp. So you take this, and this rock, and you knock the sharp edges off this part.” She points. “And then you wind this strip of skin around that same part so you can comfortably grip it.”

  “You’re asking me to make something? I think I mentioned to you how dragons are takers and not makers?”

  She’s unaffected by my threatening tone. “Maybe you did. And maybe you’re man enough to want to expand your experiences a little.”

  I chuckle. “I am man enough to already know exactly which experiences I enjoy. I am older than you think.”

  “If you’ve never made anything, how do you know that you won’t enjoy it?”

  “I don’t need to hack my own fingers off to know that it would not be pleasant.”

  “You won’t lose any fingers to this. Don’t worry. Think of it as a trophy. A trophy made from this very terrible and powerful adversary that you easily defeated and then turned into a bloody pulp. Now it’s just a tool in your hands. You killed your enemy and turned it into a tool.”

  Her words do stir me somewhat. To further the defeat of this much larger predator, turning it into a humble tool. Its large and dangerous teeth now rendered harmless, in my service even in death. It would be a way of taking more from it. Degrade it even further.

  But making something, the defining activity of the lesser species…

  “Perhaps it would be just as well,” I ponder, “if I had someone else make a trophy for me.”

  Mia continues working on the long garment in her lap. “That wouldn’t make any sense. The point of that is in the making.”

  I ponder the bone and the teeth. “What use is a trophy if nobody else can admire it?”

  Mia shrugs. “Not everything needs to be admired. You know. Isn’t that enough?”

  I suppress an urge to reach out and run a claw along her cheek, seeing the dark blood well out and run down the tanned skin, enjoying the look of hurt surprise on her face. “You are very alien to me.”

  She glances up with a little smile on her face. “Thank you.”

  I think that was a subtle insult. And for some reason, I’m not tearing her limb from limb right now.

  Without another word, I walk up the icy edge and into the cold night.

  13

  - Mia -

  He leaves again and I let my breath out. How can he be so intense?

  When he’s near, he’s the center of the world in a way that’s not only positive. It’s as if he’s a force of nature that will make me the focus of his attention and make me feel as if I’m the most important person in the universe. And at the same time I better not take my eyes off him, because at any time he might pounce on me and rip me in half. Like a jet engine gone wild on the factory floor, out of control, bouncing off the walls.

  It forces me to give him all my attention in return. I hardly noticed that the day turned into night. He filled my senses and my thoughts.

  And he kissed me. Just like that. So searing hot when it happens, and afterwards he’s so cold I’m not even sure if it did.

  Then he just leaves, disappearing into the darkness without a word, making me feel alone. Like he’s that jet engine and I’m in his exhaust stream, feeling maybe a little too hot and being almost blown away, but when he leaves I miss the heat and the feeling of being so very alive.

  I break some branches off one of the trees in the heap and toss them onto the fire. Just that short time out of the heat from the fire shocks my lungs, it’s so cold.

  I might as well go to sleep, and without a decent not-sheep fur I need to make sure the blaze keeps going in this paralyzing cold.

  I curl up in my usual place, noticing that the rank smell of the previous dinosaur residents doesn’t feel so bad now. Probably, I smell as bad as they did. Say what you will about snow, but it’s not great for washing with.

  I wonder if Kyandros is sick. Can the lack of a hoard make him weaker and weaker until he dies? If he doesn’t eat food, he can’t keep going indefinitely without something to give him strength. Why does he keep hanging around here? He knows I don’t have anything of value. Unless he somehow knows that my tribe is not at all what I want him to think.

  Should I help him find stuff for his hoard? What if I were to recruit him for us, for our side, for the girls and for the village? Against the other dragons?

  No, impossible. He’s a dragon, an alien. There’s no chance he’ll turn against his own people.

  Can I be sure about that? Maybe he’s an outcast.

  - - -

  The sun wakes me up again.

  I can hear the crackle from the fire, which must mean that I’m not alone here. I slept soundly all night and didn’t put any more wood on.

  I stagger outside, rubbing my eyes.

  Kyandros barely looks up. “I stand by my opinion.”

  I scratch my head. It looks cold still. “You do?”

  “Taking is better than making.”

  He has something in his hands. Ah, it’s the jaw bone. Now with strips of raptor leather moderately tightly wrapped around the untoothed part of it. It could probably be used as a saw. In the direst of emergencies.

  I suppose I should sound enthusiastic. “Oh, you
made it after all! Nice! May I see?”

  He hands it over. “If you must.”

  I reverently turn the thing over in my hands. It’s a pretty disgusting object, truth be told. There’s dried blood all over it, the teeth are sharp but brown and dirty, there are still some white tendons and gray muscle fibers here and there, it’s slick with grease, and I’m not going to smell it at all.

  “It’s really good. The leather is almost fastened around it! Hardly any sharp edges left. You could hold on here… ow! Well, maybe here, and use the thing to saw wood. Yes, well done.” I put a finger to my mouth to suck on the cut. The thing has knife-sharp edges right by the handle that should probably have been ground down.

  “I’m so happy you approve,” the dragon states. It’s supposed to sound sarcastic, I’m sure, but I wonder if there isn’t a little bit of pride in it.

  “It is very wonderful. A trophy of the predator you killed. Now it is your servant in death as well.”

  Kyandros shrugs. “Perhaps. It is only appropriate. And yet, when would I ever saw wood?”

  “Oh, at any time. Sawing wood is extremely satisfying. Much more so than making a saw. I’ll show you. Um, soon. Could you turn your back, please? We humans have some needs in the mornings…”

  He raises his eyebrows, runs his eyes over me once, and then turns around without another word.

  To my inexplicable joy, he’s wearing the loincloth I made. I decide not to comment on it. It’s a shame to cover up that thing of his, but it’s also better for my mental balance.

  I try to camouflage the tinkling sounds with talking. “So, you could actually make a whole lot of tools. All trophies from the raptor. Or weapons! Imagine killing a raptor with a weapon made from another raptor! I mean, the resulting… um… triumph would be tremendous. Everyone would respect you and think, that man… uh, I mean, that dragon is clearly very dangerous and aggressive. His hoard must be vast. And then, who knows, you could become the main dragon on this planet, killing all the Bigs with weapons made from their relatives! I mean, not that you need weapons. That much is obvious. But imagine ever larger weapons and triumphs, making ever larger weapons and killing ever larger Bigs and… and… so on.” I’m babbling, and I don’t really know what I’m saying. I’m sure it’s okay as long as I don’t say things that a cavewoman wouldn’t say.

  I make use of some leaves from the firewood trees and walk back to the cave opening.

  Kyandros is weighing the jaw bone saw in his hand. “You said this thing can saw wood?”

  “Well, I need a way to get out of this hole without you needing to carry me every time. I thought we could make a ladder.”

  “I’m sure you can.” Kyandros looks out of the hole again.

  There are some light clouds in the sky today.

  “Is it cold still?”

  “Winter is cold,” he replies distantly. “But of course, you know all about that.”

  I find some food from yesterday and munch on the cold grilled turkeypig meat. “Sure, but even in the winter, not every day is equally cold. You want to try that saw?”

  “No.” He throws it to me, rotating through the air, and I narrowly manage to get out of the way of what is actually a pretty fearsome weapon.

  I gingerly pick it up and grab it in a way that probably won’t cut me too much. Then I attack a branch on a firewood tree that I think might make a decent part of the ladder. It won’t need to be too long, just about the same length as Kyandros is tall.

  Back in the village, I am one of the designated house builders, along with Ashlynn and Phoebe. We mostly build from bricks, but there is a whole lot of wood in the construction and the scaffolding we use. So I’ve become pretty good with the tools we made the cavemen make for us, which are iron and not at all jawbone stuff like this. But the teeth are sharp and I cut through the branch in just a few seconds.

  “It’s a start,” I announce and take another bite of the cold meat. I need my energy, because I’m not going to spend the day just sitting here. “It’s a really good saw. You should try it.”

  I toss the saw to the ground by Kyandros’s feet. He picks it up and brushes the dirt off it.

  Then he breaks another branch off the tree and saws off a thinner twig, cutting through it instantly.

  “Easy,” he says, and I’m sure there’s satisfaction on his face when he cuts off another twig, and another and another until the straight branch is free of them and will clearly form one of the two rails of the ladder that connect the steps.

  “That’s really good,” I praise him. “I’ve never seen anyone work so fast. Bet you can’t make another one just like it.” I add a smile. Trying to manipulate a dragon into making something for you is probably not the best idea, but he does seem to enjoy it. For all I know, this could be the first time he’s used a saw or any other tool.

  “It’s the first time I’ve used a saw,” he informs me as each twig falls after just one vigorous push with the primitive saw. “Or any other tool, for that matter. But it does seem to agree with me.”

  In no time, the other rail is ready as well.

  “Now we need the steps,” I explain. “They will be shorter and go here and here and here, like this. We should tie them with something.”

  Kyandros stoops and picks something up from the ground. He holds it up in front of me, and his eyes flash dangerously. “We know you enjoy tying.”

  It’s the steel wire that I used on him.

  My face goes cold, then warm. “I did apologize for that. Just let me say one more time that I’m sorry I tied you up.”

  “Perhaps, use this in a smarter way this time.”

  I take the wire and realize that it would be the perfect way to tie the steps to the ladder. But that would mean dividing it up into several pieces, and I already know that it would take thousands of cycles of bending the same spot. For making just one cut. I’m not really in the mood for that again.

  I take in the dragon-man’s huge arm muscles. I’ve seen him break entire trees in half. “Kyandros. What if you try to snap these wires with your hands— no, never mind. Nobody could do it.” Even I know how to get a guy to do something hard for me.

  He just snorts, takes the other wire, winds it around both his hands and then pulls them apart. The steel wire appears to get longer as it stretches elastically like a rubber band, and then it goes into the yield stage where it permanently deforms and actually gets longer, and right after there’s a tight little click as it snaps.

  I let my jaw drop open. I am genuinely impressed. “That’s crazy. I never thought anyone… Kyandros, you are incredibly strong.” I don’t think over-flattering a man is a thing, and I don’t think anyone was ever harmed by doing it.

  “I so enjoy destroying. Especially these things that bound me.”

  “I need them destroyed into twelve pieces. Two for each step, a little over one foot per step. Do you think you can divide each string into six?”

  Without a word, he takes the other wire and snaps it, much like the first. Then he keeps doing it to each of them in turn.

  I watch the whole process. There is something so manly about his superhuman strength, and I’m relieved it can be channeled into something productive. I can see that he has to dig deep to mobilize the strength needed; it’s not like he’s pulling apart strings of soggy spaghetti. But somehow that makes it all seem more real and impressive.

  Soon, the strings have been reduced to twelve shorter strands that should be just about perfect for tying steps to the ladder.

  I show what the steps must look like, but I barely get started before Kyandros pushes me aside and saws suitable pieces from the firewood so fast my head is spinning.

  “You’re unbelievable,” I gasp when he hands me the steps in a heavy bundle.

  “Just so we don’t spend all day on this.”

  “You want to tie them to it, too?”

  He takes the steps back and fashions a rough ladder from our primitive materials.

  He pl
aces it against the snowy wall. “Now you can escape any time you want.”

  “I’m not sure I need to escape,” I state and test how steady the ladder stands against the snow. It’s pretty rattly, but I expected nothing else. Then I take the first step, and it holds me fine. Only one of the steps gives when I put my weight on it, and one side slides down to the step under it. I make it look as if that was my fault.

  I climb all the way up, fully aware that Kyandros must have a pretty good view of my female charms from down there. But it doesn’t take me long to get to the rim of the hole, and anyway he’s been so cool and great this morning that he deserves a little flash of pure girl.

  I know the snow will carry me, so I step off the ladder and hug myself against the cold. It might be marginally warmer than yesterday, but I’d need a very precise thermometer to know for sure. One that would happily measure far below zero.

  Again, I marvel at the way the jungle has changed. It’s as white as a Washington state forest in January, but still as alien as the jungle always was. Many trees are still standing, their crowns glittering with pristine white.

  As far as I know, the cavemen have never talked about any such thing as a winter here on Xren. And they have been here for almost a hundred years. This could be just a strange natural phenomenon. But it could also be because of the dragons arriving. They got here just a few days ago, and then this weather started shortly after. The coincidence is too striking to miss.

  Kyandros stands beside me, the light mist of his breath surrounding his head for a moment.

  I look up at him. “Are you sure you don’t need to eat? You need air, right?”

  “I certainly enjoy breathing. In my human form, anyway. What were you planning to do up here?”

  “Wait.” I climb back down, resisting the temptation to explain the relationship between an organism needing air and the processes in its cells, the metabolism that absolutely needs nutrients of many types to keep that organism from dying. I suspect that’s not something a cavewoman is expected to know. In fact, I think I’ll try not to use words with ‘meta’ in them at all. Probably ’pseudo’ and ’macro’ should be off limits, too. It shouldn’t be too hard – the caveman language doesn’t have that prefix. And I absolutely must avoid speaking a single word of English to Kyandros.