Savage Survival

by Darrell Bain

  “It was quick. It happened when lots of them were feeding. Buddy was different; he knew I was always busy in the morning, so he fed then and stayed with me in the afternoon. Besides that, I was riding him."

  Tsing raised his brows in admiration at that feat, then said “Ah. You were a leader, yes?"

  “Yes, I was. I was Mayor of our column, and President, as we called it, of all the other nearby columns. We had a sort of confederacy, and I had plans to expand it to cover all the individual groups before we got dumped here."

  “Very good. You are wise for one so young. I was leader, also, though not of so many as you."

  “I thought so,” Lyda grinned. “You take charge so easily."

  “As do you. And you see...” he paused to wave casually at the group they had gathered, “...others assume we will lead. Strange, is it not?"

  Lyda hesitated a moment, then decided to see if the phenomena affecting her was specific, or general. “I've grown up fast. And after every move, I've felt ... changes inside me, like I'm smarter and more competent."

  “Yes. I have experienced the same phenomenon. I believe others have, too, though not all to the same extent. You and I, we now sense thoughts, do we not?"

  Lyda glanced at Tsing. His face had a serious expression, as if it was complementing his mind. “I think so, Tsing."

  Tsing nodded.

  “It's physical, too,” Lyda said. She reached out her hand as they passed a short tree and easily broke off a branch to demonstrate. “I'm stronger than a girl my age should be too."

  “How old?” Tsing asked.

  “I just turned fourteen."

  “You matured quickly. And I found my older assistants regaining a touch of youth. Is there a pattern?"

  “The aliens are behind everything that has happened or is happening to us,” Lyda said bitterly, thinking of her parents and Gavin.

  “Yes, but do they control our adaptation to adversity?"

  “No,” Lyda said instantly. Her mind worked quickly now, better than it ever had. “They don't control what we do or how we act."

  “I agree. Also..."

  Tsing got no farther. They were leading the way and almost stepped into the stream as they rounded a large boulder and a thick cluster of tall, swollen growths like pumpkins sitting on top of each other.

  “Ah, water!” Tsing exclaimed. “But is it good?"

  “If it isn't, we're dead,” Lyda grinned.

  Lyda and Tsing stood guard as their group lined up along the stream and got down on their hands and knees to drink. When their turn came, Lyda found the water to be cool and wonderfully refreshing after their time in the sun and the long walk. They both looked to the sky simultaneously to see where the sun stood, then grinned at each other. We're still working in concert, she thought. This might be nice, not to have all the responsibility myself. She gave no consideration to the idea that she would ever become a follower of others. Her mind had grown too much to simply obey orders blindly, if it had ever been inclined that way. She didn't think it had; she had always questioned the way of things, sometimes driving her parents to distraction with her eternal, “Yes, but why?” She smiled wistfully inside herself at the reminiscence and walked on downstream. Some of the other adults who had been deposited inland went on ahead. They were anxious to see the ocean Lyda and Tsing had told them about, and to test their hypothesis that they might be able to gather food along the seashore.

  A babble of loud voices; some angry and shouting; some incongruously laughing as if making fun of a cripple brought the first indication of a crisis ahead. Lyda mentally squared her shoulders and hurried forward. Emergencies and catastrophes were nothing new. She felt the whole force of her mind and body tensing for whatever this might entail.

  * * *

  CHAPTER THIRTEEN

  The advancing members of their group had run into another band of refugees and somehow got off on the wrong foot; at least that's what Lyda hoped had happened. If so, she and Tsing could probably straighten it out. If not...

  There was no misunderstanding. A huge man, who looked like he was a weight lifter in the past, was barring the path to the ocean. He was mostly Afro-American with Hispanic and perhaps other racial mixtures contributing a minor fraction to his makeup. He was backed up by two other hard looking Afro-American men and one stout woman, but Lyda sensed immediately he was the one with whom they would have to contend. She also decided there was an extremely sharp intelligence behind the glare radiating from his face; a countenance marred in several places by wide scars that looked as if the wounds had needed stitches, but never received them.

  “You crackers haul ass. This be our hood,” he said in the patois of the black ghetto.

  Lyda and Tsing stepped forward. Lyda waved her hand backwards, indicating to those behind her to stay put.

  “You can't claim a whole stream, nor access to the ocean,” Lyda said.

  “You go around. You, Chink, get yo’ ass gone, too."

  “We will not,” Tsing said firmly. “We must work together. Who knows what the night will bring?"

  Lyda could sense that Tsing held as little hope of cooperating with this man as she did. She could practically read the resentment and hatred at the life he had been born into emanating from him, along with a fierce determination to dominate whatever world he found himself in now. She could sympathize in a way, but not agree.

  “You motherfucking Chinks and Whitebreads think you so smart; now you in the same fix we is. An’ I be the chief headknocker in this hood. I be the man now."

  “You're not being sensible,” Lyda said. “It's too late to try another route. And if we go upstream, we'll foul the water for you. It would be much better to cooperate."

  There was no reasoning with him. He had obviously survived so far on his size and domineering personality and intended to continue doing so. He stepped forward. “Last time I say it. Go away. Niggers can stay, long as they not Toms. You, bitch, you can stay tonight. I fuck you and send you on yo’ way tomorrow. How that be? You like a big black dick ‘stead of them itty whitebread peanuts?” He laughed uproariously and was joined by his close cohorts.

  “No,” Lyda said firmly.

  The huge man rushed a few steps forward and swung a huge hand at her, fingers open but held together to deliver a brutal slap to the head. Lyda dodged most of it, but the tips of his calloused fingers brushed her cheek with bruising force. She fell backward into Buddy, which helped her to keep her feet. Even as she felt for the pointed stick Tsing had carved into a weapon for her, Buddy curled one end in front of her and took the brunt of the man's charge, causing them all to topple in a heap, with part of Buddy on top of her.

  Lyda could see Tsing grappling with another of the men as she got her knife free, then their bodies froze into position as a terrified scream of pain split the air like the rising whine of a jet engine getting ready to be released from its restraints. She scrambled out from under the pile as blood spattered her jacket. Buddy was busy tearing out her enemy's middle, even as he continued screaming and began struggling and stabbing at the hexapod. His knife and the hand gripping it were already stained green with the peculiar body fluid of the hexapod. He made one more effort, then collapsed with Buddy's teeth still rending his flesh.

  Lyda ran to where Tsing's struggle had resumed. Before she reached him, his first attacker stumbled away with one arm dangling, but the other was all over him, the disparity in their sizes bearing Tsing to the earth. His antagonist was in a killing rage with his hands around Tsing's throat and squeezing with all his might. The cords in Tsing's neck were standing out in stark relief as he tried to resist the pressure.

  There was no time, nor any way to use the self-defense techniques she had learned from the classes she attended, nor did she want to draw her gun. Without regret or hesitation, she plunged her long, wooden knife into the side of the man's neck and twisted savagely, trying to force it upward. Her muscles flexed with abnormal strength as she drove it into his brai
n. His eyes bugged out in stupefied surprise. His grip on Tsing loosened and there was the sudden stench of bodily wastes polluting the air.

  It took two quick hard yanks to free her weapon from the man's neck. Tsing coughed in relief while she stood up and whirled around, looking for more opposition. There were two or three struggles still going on. She shouted, as loud and forcefully as she could. “Stop it! It's over with!"

  People of all races and ages stared at her and Tsing, who was still coughing but on his feet and ready for further combat. The fighting ceased and those who could get to their feet did so, slowly and warily.

  Lyda was furious. She had never wanted to kill again and now she had been forced into it. She knew that walking away would have solved nothing. The man Buddy had torn into would have dominated and subjugated everyone on the planet had he lasted; she knew that implicitly. She went over to his still body. Buddy was laying beside him. She put her hand on Buddy's bloody crest and got only a faint vibration in return. Even as she felt the feeble rumbling, it faded away to nothing. Damn, damn, damn! Why did it have to end this way? She stood up and glared at the gathered crowd of people. Her enraged scrutiny caused several of the new group to shrink away.

  She kicked at the big man's body, trying to sublimate some of her anger into something no longer a threat. “Do you see where his kind of attitude leads? Is this how you want to live, with brutality and savagery and no rule of law except the arbitrary dictates of cruel and malicious men and women? Tsing and I both asked you politely to cooperate, not fight!” She took a deep breath, calming herself in the process.

  “All right; it's done. We can't undo it, but we can keep it from happening again. Is there anyone who wants to speak for that man?” She pointed her bloody knife at the one with the injured arm Tsing had subdued. He was still staring at the short Chinese, wondering how such a little man had overpowered him so quickly.

  “He ain't no good. He be slinging dope and pimping since he ten years old!” came from the big woman who had been at his side.

  “What were you doing with him, ma'am?” Lyda asked.

  The woman examined her curiously. Lyda sensed she wasn't used to being addressed respectfully by a white person, and especially not when she had been running with two of the dead men, but Lyda thought she had caught a hint of innate goodness in the woman, distorted by her circumstances, perhaps.

  “Someone had to keep his hos in line. They most as bad as him.” She pointed to two young black women and a white female a few years older. All had hard faces and belligerent stances—or had until they were pointed out.

  It took Lyda a second to interpret hos as whores, though she knew they weren't necessarily prostitutes. It was a general, though derogatory, term. “All right. My name is Lyda Brightner. I was Mayor of a big group of people in the spaceship. Mister Kim over there was, too, but not at the same place I was. I guess the aliens separated the races up until now for some foul reason of their own. Now, I'm asking, is that man worth keeping?"

  “No."

  “Anyone? Does anyone speak for him?” One of the black women the big woman had referred to as “hos” opened her mouth as if she was going to say something, but ultimately closed it without speaking.

  “Mister Kim?"

  “We used exile. If they came back, a very bad beating. Once more, and we disposed of them.” His voice was hoarse from the choking but understandable.

  “We used exile, too. On your way, Mister. Don't come back this way.” She touched her bloody wooden knife for emphasis. He started to protest, then thought better of it for the moment. Once far enough away that her knife was no longer a threat, he turned and shouted, “Goddamn Toms! You be letting them put us down all over again!"

  Lyda ignored him and looked to Tsing to see if he wanted to take over. He touched a finger to his neck to indicate he had trouble speaking.

  “In case you didn't hear what Mister Kim said, I'll repeat it. Neither one of us ruled by force. Once we got our respective groups organized, we held elections. We can do the same here once we find out how to feed and protect ourselves. And I don't want to hear anything about Toms or Whitebreads or Chinks again. Everything Mister Kim and I do is based on fairness. Period.

  “Now, Ms...?” Lyda looked to the big woman.

  “Florida Williams, ma'am.” She grinned, displaying a couple of gold crowns. “You sure you want to hold ‘lections? You outnumbered."

  “By what? Older people? All I ask of any leader, including myself, is competence and fairness. If any of you can do better, Mister Kim and I will step aside—after elections. Is there anyone else here who needs to leave?"

  No one spoke against anyone else. Lyda caught Tsing's cynical expression. This wasn't going to be easy.

  “Okay, let's leave it. Is anyone hungry?” She grinned when she said that, knowing almost everyone must be.

  A medley of assents followed that question.

  “Well, I am, too. Some of us have gathered some things that might be edible but we haven't tried them yet. We were waiting until we got back to the ocean where there's saltwater in case we needed to purge. We also thought we might find fish or shellfish there to eat. Shall we go while there's still some daylight?"

  * * * *

  As simply as that, Lyda became a leader again, though it was no cakewalk and did take some time; and she was more of a co-leader with Tsing than having sole responsibility. She did notice that her authority appeared to carry slightly more weight than his, though she never tried to exploit it, and Tsing was quite happy to maintain the status quo.

  There was precious little to eat at the seashore, but Lyda and Tsing and some others quickly got the hang of gathering what they could from the shallow water and the leavings from the tide. She made sure it was all saved until it was becoming dusky and time to quit.

  “Who's going to try this stuff first? It may poison us!” a man asked, eyeing a double-tailed creature which had just recently stopped wiggling.

  “I'll go first,” Lyda volunteered, knowing it was her duty. She peeled back a crusty covering from one of the tails and took a bite. It was salty and muscular, but not too unpleasant.

  “It tastes all right to me. Let's try some of the other stuff a little at a time before we let the children eat. Does that sound okay?"

  Nods greeted this. By the time darkness fell, what food had been collected was gone, with Lyda, Tsing, and two others who claimed to have a good memory charged with noting who ate what. One man had a spate of violent diarrhea later on, but that was the only illness.

  “It's going to be hard to feed this many people,” Lyda said to Tsing after everyone had eaten, with the children getting the most of it. “We're going to have to organize expeditions inland for vegetable matter and try to devise some nets to catch fish or their local equivalent from the stream and ocean."

  “I'm wondering if there are carnivores. There should be. I saw animal prints."

  Lyda nodded, both to Tsing and to nearby listeners. “If the ecology is at all like it is on earth, there will be. We'll have to make some spears and try to find wood and string for bows and arrows."

  At that moment, a shrill growl erupted into the night from somewhere behind the hummocks, followed by a shriek like cats fighting.

  Tsing grinned. “I think that answers our concern. I will make spears tomorrow."

  “We need to set a place upstream to drink and bathe in, and another area way down the beach for waste disposal, too,” Lyda said. “And also ... has anyone been a baseball pitcher? We need someone who can throw a rock real hard. And..."

  The banter went on far into the night. Neither Lyda and Tsing made any effort to conceal what they talked about. They both encouraged others to join in with suggestions and comments. She noted with pleasure that after a while, the two groups seemed to be mingling and saw Tsing nodding his head approvingly.

  * * * *

  The first election was held a week later, though Lyda and Tsing both thought it was more like nine
days or so. The days were longer than on earth and it took some getting used to, especially as none of the various races had been living on exactly the same cycles in their previous environment.

  Lyda and Tsing decided to stand for “Mayor” as they got everyone to call the office, as a team rather than either of them running separately. They were elected by a majority, but not by much.

  Tsing and she both spoke after the results had been tabulated.

  Tsing went first. “Thank you for your support. Miss Brightner and I will do our very best to provide fair and competent leadership. Tomorrow morning, we will announce a number of persons who will form a council to advise us and help with the administration and other duties. These people will not be selected arbitrarily, but solely by the standards of competence and how well we think they can do the jobs we have for them.

  “We will take a month to let them work and in the meantime, we reserve the right to replace any who we don't think are working out. In turn, at the end of that period, we will ask you to confirm our choices. Any who are not confirmed, will be replaced by another choice and again, you will have a chance to either confirm or deny them a seat on the council.

  “There is an enormous amount of work to be done and we'd like to get on with it. Miss Brightner?"

  “I can only affirm what Mister Kim just said. I would like to add that I totally agree with his notions of rule by competence, fairness and consent. And as of now, I'm going to make my first donation to the community."

  Lyda turned her back on the crowd and took off her jacket first, then her blouse, while noting that Tsing neither avoided looking at her breasts nor stared overlong at them. She winked at him, put on the jacket back on over her bare breasts and zipped it up to the middle of her chest.

  “There. My blouse can be added to the fishnet the volunteers are constructing. I sure hope it catches something bigger than what I was using it for."

  She sat down to good-natured cheers and laughs. It had been the perfect touch.