Obsolete Theorem

by Stan C. Smith

  “Okay, you’ve made a good point,” Lincoln said to Virgil. “I am almost certain my theorem is valid. Almost. For me, this comes down to what’s at stake. I can’t ignore my small amount of uncertainty because the stakes are so high.” He looked down at his drone. “Maddy, I want your opinion on this. The other drone—Ripple—insists that helping Skyra will somehow help us accomplish our goal of saving humanity. What are your thoughts?”

  Maddy’s red ring pulsed. “Ripple should not have taught this indigenous woman to speak English. Ripple should not have helped the woman survive. You should not influence the indigenous life here in any way. This inclination is in my coding, Lincoln. As you know.”

  “Yes, but Ripple claims helping Skyra is important to the civilization we’ve jumped away from. What are your thoughts on that?”

  Again, the drone’s ring pulsed. “Ripple is coded differently than I am.”

  Lincoln nodded. “Yes, apparently I was fourteen years older when I coded Ripple.”

  “Which means you must have changed your mind about the importance of noninterference with indigenous life. I am curious about why you would change your mind.”

  Lincoln bit his lower lip, considering this.

  “In addition,” Maddy said, “I am curious about why you would code your future drones with the autonomy to decide when, and in what order, they should reveal information to you.”

  Lincoln bit down harder on his lip.

  Maddy added, “However interesting that may be, I must conclude that you had good reasons for doing so. You are, after all, my creator—my God, if you will—so I trust that Ripple’s coding reflects your cumulative wisdom.”

  Lincoln sighed. Maybe he’d gone a little overboard in coding conversational flair into his drones. However, Maddy had made some good points. He glanced over at Skyra, who was standing there motionless, gazing at him with those weirdly-penetrating eyes. Finally, he turned to Virgil. “I’m doing this. Before I go, I’ll help you get the T3 ready for a second jump. If you choose to jump now, that’s fine. All I ask is that you leave me a portion of the supplies. If you choose to wait a while to see if I return, that’s fine too. Just be ready to jump immediately if you find yourselves in any kind of danger.” He moved to the T3 and started pulling body bags from their duffel.

  Virgil stepped beside him and put a hand on one of the rolled bags. “I didn’t say I wouldn’t go with you. I was just hoping to talk you out of it. Having failed at that, I recommend we leave everything packed up and tucked away until we get back.”

  Derek grabbed the four small supply packs and handed them out. “As warm as it is here now, I don’t think we’ll need more clothing than what we’re wearing, even if this mission takes us into the night.”

  They returned the body bags to the duffel, tucked the mini-drone in with them, then arranged the two duffels against the artificial boulder’s base.

  “What about Maddy?” Jazzlyn asked. “Should we leave her here?”

  Lincoln turned to Skyra. “How far do we need to go to get to your sister?”

  She pointed across the river. “The bolup camp is over that hill, and then the next hill.”

  Lincoln crouched in front of Maddy’s vision lens. “Do you think you can walk that far?”

  “You know I’m perfectly capable of walking that distance. My charge is almost at a hundred percent. I will go, in spite of these horridly unsanitary conditions. I will even endeavor to make myself useful.”

  “Fair enough,” Lincoln said. He rose to his feet and approached Skyra. “I used to have a sister. She was kind to me when I was young. She died, though, and I remember what it was like to lose her. So I know what you must be feeling. We will do our best to help you. What do you want us to do?”

  She eyed him, her green irises adjusting slightly to make her pupils larger as a cloud drifted in front of the sun. “You will please go to the bolup camp with me. You will please help me kill all the bolups at the camp. Then I will take back Veenah.”

  7

  Camp

  47,659 years ago - Day 1

  “Why are you on your own?” Lincoln Woodhouse asked as he walked. “Don’t you have a family group or a camp with others of your kind?”

  Walking beside him, Skyra looked over the rocky field from one side to the other, trying to spot the bodies of the two bolups she and Ripple had killed. The bodies were gone. She returned her gaze to the hilltop, watching for signs that the men might be coming after her again. Lincoln Woodhouse certainly talked a lot, and there seemed to be no end to the questions pouring out of his mouth. Skyra was puzzled about the man, as well as his companions, but at this moment her only focus was on Veenah and the coming conflict. She stepped around a patch of scrub brush, leading the strangers toward the first of the two hills they’d have to cross. “My tribe is the Una-Loto.”

  “Where is the rest of your tribe?”

  She glanced at him. “Are you a bolup—a human?”

  “Yes, we’re humans.”

  “I am a nandup. Nandups do not tell bolups where to find their camp. My people would kill me.”

  He seemed to think about this for a few breaths. “We did not come here to harm you or your people.”

  “Did you come here to harm bolups?”

  “No, of course not, but… well, you and Ripple have convinced us we should help you save your sister.”

  “Then you will have to kill bolups.”

  Again, Lincoln paused as if thinking. “I was just asking about your people because I’m interested. You don’t have to tell me where your camp is.”

  She studied his face for a moment. This man was strange. He asked about things that should not matter to him. She turned and pointed toward the place where the sun would set later in the day. “Una-Loto camp is that way, over those hills. I will take Veenah today, and I will help her walk back to the camp. We will walk for two days, maybe three days.”

  He gazed at the distant hills. “Why didn’t your people come with you to save your sister?”

  “Many questions come from your mouth, Lincoln Woodhouse.”

  “Please, just call me Lincoln.”

  “Lincoln, I do not know why you ask, but my tribe does not come to take back Veenah because many in my tribe want Veenah to die. They want me to die also.”

  He looked at her with his mouth twisted downward. “Why?”

  “We are birthmates, Skyra and Veenah. We are like each other, but we are different from others of Una-Loto.”

  “Because you can see what others are about to do?”

  “Yes, and because we see things the others of our tribe do not see, and because we sing. That’s what Ripple calls it—singing.”

  He put out a hand and touched Skyra’s arm. “Wait, Neanderthals like to sing?”

  “What is Neanderthals?”

  “It’s what we call nandups. You are a Neanderthal, a nandup. I didn’t know nandups like to sing.”

  “I like to sing, and Veenah likes to sing, but many of the others of Una-Loto do not understand singing.”

  They walked in silence for many breaths. The other strange humans followed silently, perhaps preparing themselves for the conflict. Ripple and the creature called Maddy were walking among them.

  They came to the first hill and made their way up the slope. Near the summit, Skyra moved ahead of the others so she could check the far side for bolups. As she crossed the flat area atop the hill, she peered cautiously at the valley below. She froze when she spotted the broad backs of three massive bodies. She crouched and used her hand to signal the others to stay low, hoping they would understand her meaning.

  They all crouched and moved up to her side.

  She put her palm over her mouth as a signal to stay silent, then she pointed over the rise. They all peered down the slope.

  The creatures—two females and a male—were slowly walking by between the two hills, their tall shoulder humps and snout horns swaying with each step.

  Skyra felt a surg
e of energy and relief. Encountering these woolly rhinos would surely bring strength to these skinny humans, making them more useful in the coming conflict.

  “Whoa!” said the dark-faced woman called Jazzlyn. “Coelodonta! The woolly rhinoceros. Look at the—”

  Skyra lunged at the woman and slapped a hand over her mouth. “Be silent!” she hissed. “The rhinos do not see, but they hear. We have no place to hide if they hear you.”

  The woman nodded, her eyes wide, and Skyra pulled her hand back.

  “Be silent,” Skyra whispered again before returning to her position.

  Together the group crept forward to get a better view. Skyra now saw a fourth rhino, this one much smaller. The calf was walking between the adults for protection. Skyra pursed her lips and ground her teeth together as she watched the creatures. Yes, she was lucky to come upon the rhinos, but the scene also brought forth a familiar anguish. Skyra’s birthmother had been a skilled hunter, but woolly rhinos did not give up their nourishing meat and warming fur easily.

  It had happened during a hunt three cold seasons past. Skyra’s people hunted deer more than any other game, but plans changed that day when the hunting group spotted a woolly rhino. It was a single male, on the move in search of females. Male rhinos were larger than females, and that one was the largest Skyra had ever seen. Killing it would have resulted in days of labor followed by days of celebration for the Una-Loto. As young hunters, Skyra and Veenah were told to watch from a safe distance as the senior hunters, including their birthmother, waited patiently for the creature to come close enough to ambush.

  The senior hunters had hidden themselves behind sturdy trees. Nandups only hunted woolly rhinos in forests, where hunters could wait for the right moment to ambush, and where they could dart behind trees to avoid being trampled or impaled. Also, avoiding death required the nandup’s spear be strong, without bends or cracks in the shaft. Skyra would never forget the sound of her birthmother’s spear snapping in half. It had all happened in less than a single breath—the rhino spun to the side, snapping the spear, and Skyra’s birthmother suddenly had nothing to hold onto to stay out of range of the rhino’s horns and feet.

  “The male must be over two meters at the shoulders,” Jazzlyn whispered.

  Skyra blinked, pushing the searing memory from her mind. She silently watched the family group of rhinos pass by below. Then another movement caught her eye. Something was following the rhinos. She squinted at the creature then quickly ducked her head. She turned to Lincoln and the others and motioned for them to crouch even lower. Then she pointed in the creature’s direction.

  “What is that?” Lincoln whispered as he gazed over the hill’s edge.

  Skyra looked again. Now she saw two of them. “Cave lions,” she said softly. “They follow the rhinos and wait for the calf to move away from the group. We do not have spears, so we do not want the cave lions to see us or hear us.”

  Lincoln made a strange face that Skyra didn’t understand, then he nodded.

  She turned back to the valley below, noting with relief that the breeze was hitting her face—the cave lions were upwind. The creatures steadily stalked by, their eyes studying the rhinos rather than scanning their surroundings. Finally, Skyra got to her feet. “We will please go now.”

  As they all got up, the human named Virgil spoke. “Like I said, land of terror.”

  “The cave lion and woolly rhino give nandups furs and meat,” Skyra said, running her hand over the thick fur of her rhino cape. “They also give us strength when we need it, although they do not want to give us their fur and meat and strength. They kill nandups, and I am sure they kill bolups too.”

  The strange humans stared at her as if they did not understand her words.

  “We’ll keep that in mind,” said Lincoln.

  The creature called Maddy said, “The Eurasian cave lion, Panthera spelaea, diverged from the African lion almost two million years ago, and it will become extinct approximately 35,000 years from now. Isotopic bone analyses suggest that they preyed upon reindeer and other types of deer, as well as cubs of the cave bear. It is reasonable to assume they also fed on woolly rhino calves and the occasional human or Neanderthal. You are indeed fortunate to have avoided detection.”

  Skyra didn’t understand most of the creature’s words, but Lincoln said, “Thank you, Maddy, that’s very helpful.”

  “Consuming valuable time by dispensing trivial information is hardly helpful,” said Ripple. “We must keep moving.”

  Skyra led the group down the slope, across the path of rhino and lion tracks, and up the next hill. The uneaten hedgehog entrails, now covered in flies, still lay upon the rock where Skyra had left them. When the small stream came into view, Skyra waved for the others to stop. She scanned the area for bolups but saw none. A wave of regret passed over her as she eyed the shallow portion of the stream where she’d seen the bolup women washing blood and filth from Veenah’s body.

  “The bolup camp is beyond the river,” Skyra said, pointing to the vast area of scrubby trees that stretched into the distance beyond the stream. “They may be moving their camp now.”

  The gray-bearded bolup called Derek hefted his sharpened weapon as if he were ready to use it. “If they’re moving their camp, we need to do this soon. What’s the plan?”

  Skyra ground her jaw back and forth as she stared at the trees below. The bolup men probably were wary after losing at least four of their tribemates. They would be watchful, but they would also be fearful. The entire tribe might panic and flee if Skyra and the strange humans attacked with fury and brutality.

  “How many people will be in the camp?” Lincoln asked.

  “I do not know,” Skyra replied. “Some bolup tribes have only ten, but some have thirty.”

  He stared at her for a few breaths.

  “What?” she asked.

  “Um, I guess I’m a little surprised at your use of numbers.”

  Ripple said, “I taught Skyra the base ten counting system, as well as the corresponding English nomenclature. She learned it quickly because her people had already developed an effective counting system suitable for tasks practical to their way of life.”

  “Stop using words I don’t know, Ripple,” Skyra said. She didn’t like that her companion had been speaking differently since these strange humans had appeared.

  “I’m sorry,” the creature replied. “I was simply saying that you already knew how to count when I met you.”

  Maddy took a few steps, placing its body in the center of the group. “Let’s assume the camp you intend to raid contains thirty humans. Skyra killed one already, so we’ll assume twenty-nine.”

  “Ripple killed one, and I killed three,” Skyra said. “I also hurt two of the women.”

  The group was silent for a few breaths.

  “We can assume six of the thirty are dead or incapacitated,” Maddy said. “Of the original thirty, we can assume eight are children and therefore will offer little resistance. We can also assume half of the twenty-two adults of the original group were men and half women. Four of the eleven men were killed, leaving seven. Two of the eleven women were incapacitated, leaving nine. So, expect to encounter sixteen adults at the camp, seven men and nine women. Not only that, Lincoln, but you must consider the fact that you, Derek, Virgil, and Jazzlyn have no previous experience in raiding camps in order to free captive Neanderthal women. The odds, I’m afraid, are not in your favor.”

  Ripple stepped forward, actually bumping its shell against Maddy’s shell, forcing the other creature to step to one side. “Which isn’t to say that you shouldn’t try,” Ripple said. “The men of this tribe are now vulnerable to being frightened. I suggest creating a diversion that will occupy them and make them nervous. Then I suggest entering the camp in an audacious manner. With any luck, these strategies will trigger their flight response.”

  Skyra growled, frustrated that Ripple was still using words she didn’t know, but she at least knew enough to get the
general meaning. “Yes,” she said. “Together there are seven of us. You people are very strange. Ripple and Maddy are strange. The bolups might become scared and run away. They might leave Veenah behind.”

  The gray-bearded Derek held up his hand, and again he produced a flame by moving his thumb. “Alright, folks. I have just the idea for a distraction.”

  Skyra led the way as the group cautiously descended the hill and crossed the stream. She saw no sign of the man she’d killed there. When Skyra was a child, adults of her tribe had told stories about bolups eating the bodies of nandups and other bolups. She wondered now if that was why the bolup bodies were missing.

  Instead of taking the path the bolups had worn from their camp to the stream, Skyra led her group far to one side to avoid being seen. The short trees in this area were spread out enough to allow easy passage but too dense to see the camp without getting closer.

  They crept forward silently.

  Skyra heard a woman’s voice, followed by several words from a man. The camp was very near. She backed off, waving to the others to move back with her.

  “These trees look dry as hell,” said Derek, rubbing a few low leaves between his fingers. “We’ll start with this one, then we’ll circle to the right, lighting as many others as we can.”

  Virgil removed the strap over his face and rubbed his eyes. “My God, I can’t believe we’re doing this.” He put the strap back on, removed the pack from his back, and dropped it to the ground. “I don’t need that getting in my way.”

  The other humans removed their own packs and dropped them next to Virgil’s.

  Virgil held his weapon up with the sharpened tip toward the camp. “Let’s do this before I pass out, okay?”

  “Our plan is all about scaring them, not about violence,” Jazzlyn said.