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Darwin's Quest: The Search for the Ultimate Survivor

Page 4

by Jonathan P. Brazee


  “Stop, stop!” she screamed. “Hamlin, hold fast!” She rushed over to push her way between Hamlin and Yash. Hamlin didn’t ask question; he just dug in.

  She took the rope in her hands, examining it. Looking over Yash’s shoulder, I saw what she had spotted, and my heart dropped.

  “Bring him back up, Hamlin. Don’t let go—you’ve got all his weight for a moment.”

  Muscles bulging, Hamlin started to arm-over-arm Gabriel back up. Lindadawn put her hand over the spot on the rope, then moved Yash’s hands over hers, so he was back on the sound section rope. It took only a few seconds to bring the confused Gabriel back over the cliff edge. We gathered around , looking at the spot in the rope. Very clearly, the vine had been cut almost through. Gabriel was pretty light, but there was no way the vine could have held him. Once the cut had gone past Hamlin, Gabriel would have fallen to the river below, bouncing off the rocks.

  Sabotage! But we caught them this time. Well, Lindadawn had caught them. The cut had gone through my hands, and I’d never noticed it. The field staff must have realized we would use the vines as a rope, and they had carefully made the cut hoping we wouldn’t notice it. Like I never noticed it. Like most of us hadn’t noticed it. They wanted a dramatic death to start off the challenge.

  Gabriel sat there, pale as a ghost as the rest of us checked over the rest of the vine rope. It was solid. Yash made a sort of bow around the cut, isolating it and making sure it never took any of the strain. He pulled on it, testing it before nodding to Hamlin. Without a word Hamlin got back into position on the rope. We joined him, and he motioned for Gabriel to slide over the edge again. For a moment, I thought Gabriel would refuse, but he crossed himself and slid off. We lowered him until he got to the rock face below. We could feel the weight come off the rope. Bernie positioned himself on the rope bridge where he could watch, and he kept giving us an update of Gabriel’s descent, telling us to give or take up slack. Gabriel made it down and untied the rope, and we hauled it back up. A feeling of relief swept over us.

  One by one, the others made the descent. Ratt had it the easiest. She weighed only 35 kg, so with laugh, Hamlin lowered her basically alone to the bottom, her feet kicking to keep her off the rocks. Heck, at 35 kilos, I probably could have taken care of her myself, but it was fun hearing her shriek with laughter as she was lowered to the bottom.

  Julie had a little harder time. She fell a number of times as she climbed down. But we were able to hold her up each time. Alfhid fell once, too, but no damage done.

  Finally, the four of us were left. We decided that since Hamlin was bigger, I would help with him and then go third-to-last. Hamlin was a rather large load. Add that to the fact that we no longer had him helping, it was much harder to take up his weight and lower him. My arms were shaking by the time he made it down to where he could get on the rock face. Without Bernie to guide us, we kept it too tight, not giving him enough slack to go down, and he had to shout up for more. He finally made it down, and we hauled up the rope. Now it was my turn.

  The rope felt uncomfortable tied around my chest and under my arms. It was a vine, after all, stiff and somewhat unyielding. But I sat down, feet over the edge, and slowly slid off. My butt dragged Hamlin’s shirt, knocking it off and sending it down the cliff. I watched it fall. Someone reached out to grab it, but it was too far out, and it fell into the water to be washed downstream. Well, if anyone was going to be without a shirt, I guess Hamlin wouldn’t mind.

  I swung back and forth as I was jerkily lowered. My feet eventually touched the rocks, and I turned myself back to grab them. The climb down from there wasn’t too hard. The rough cliff face offered plenty of hand holds. The rope around my chest was cumbersome, but I rather thought I would keep it tied around me.

  The rocks were a little rough on my hands, but sooner than I expected, I could feel hands touch my legs and help me to the small trail running alongside the water. Spray from the water soaked the trail, making it slick.

  I untied the rope. My weight on the knot made it a little tight and difficult to untie, but it was off in short order and Bernie called up for Yash and Josh to drop the rope while we gathered to catch it. Nothing happened for a moment, and then, instead of the rope coming down, it started back up. We wondered what was happening.

  All of us were stretched along the narrow trail on the edge of the water. The same spray that was making the trail slick was covering us, too. While the air temperature was at the normal, comfortable level, Ratt was shivering and being held by Alfhid. Ratt was probably too small to conserve much body heat while wet, but the sight still looked a little humorous to me. Alfhid was tall, almost 2 meters, and a very voluptuous 65 kilos or so. Ratt couldn’t have been more than 150 cm tall. Alfhid enveloped Ratt rather than just embracing her.

  “Here he comes,” murmured Hamlin.

  I looked up to see Yash, tied to the rope, start to get lowered over the side. I guess he had second thoughts about climbing down freehand. Josh was taking the strain, but Yash came down in a series of bounces. His feet finally touched the rock face, and he scrambled to get a hold of it. Then slowly, make that very slowly, he began to inch his way down.

  “Anytime now, Yash,” Mike said under his breath, obviously agreeing with me that perhaps Yash was being a little too cautious.

  It took awhile, but Yash made it down without mishap. He was all smiles.

  “Josh thought he could support me, so discretion being the better part of valor and all….”

  I didn’t really blame him. I certainly wouldn’t have wanted to do those first fifteen feet free climbing. Josh hauled up the rope, and a few minutes later, it came tumbling down the cliff. I reached out to grab part of it, and a hunk of the rope smacked me up against the side of my face, almost knocking me down. Uh, gravity and a heavy object equals pain. It shouldn’t take a genius to figure that out!

  We all craned our necks to watch for Josh, and shortly, his legs swung over the side. They edged down, followed by the rest of him. With a swing, he came to full extension, holding on with only his hands on the cliff edge. He swung his legs in until his feet reached the cliff wall. This was the tricky part. He had his feet touching the wall, and his hands on the cliff edge. His body was canted, his back facing us on the ground. If he couldn’t get his hands over to the cliff face, he was going to fall, and athlete or not, he couldn’t hang there forever. We could see him rock back and forth, and accompanied by gasps from us below him, he gave his body a pull, basically throwing his body a foot or so towards the wall. The force of the thrust knocked his feet loose, but as he started to fall, his hands caught on a small protuberance. Feet flailing for a moment, he was able to gain purchase and gather himself.

  From there, it was a little anticlimactic. His climb down the face was easily accomplished, and before we knew it, he stepped off on the trail to join us. His smile was huge, and those of next to him clapped him on the shoulder. I had to admit, that was pretty impressive.

  Mike had done an analysis of previous shows, and according to him, 80% of previous river challenges occurred downstream, so we had already decided that that was the direction we would go. It was a smart choice. After our slow conga line made its way less than 500 meters downstream, we came to a small cove, sheltered from the rushing water in the main current. And in the cove were shadowy torpedo shapes of trout.

  I have seen nature documentaries on Earther wildlife, and I saw The River’s Gift when it came out ten or so years ago, so I knew what a trout was. But these were huge! I was hard to tell from the shore, but they looked to be well over a meter long.

  “They’re taimen.” I looked back to Joda, who was next our column after me. “We’ve got some big trout in Canada, but those there are the monster trout. From Mongolia. A very primitive breed. They’re called taimen.” She had an eager look in her eyes. “My daddy went there to fish them when he was young, and we’ve got one mounted in our condo. He’s going to love it when he sees this.”

  Now tha
t we made it to cove, we weren’t quite sure how to proceed. Like the rest of us, I had taken a crash course in survival skills once I’d found out that I was selected, and while I knew you could tickle a fish with your hands to catch them, somehow, I didn’t think that was going to work with these monsters. But with Darwin’s Quest, there was always a method to the madness.

  “Up there,” shouted Paul, who was at the head of our column. I looked up to a small flat shelf a little more than two meters up on the cliff face where bamboo had taken root. Well, it looked like spears would be our weapon of choice.

  Paul boosted Ratt up to the ledge easily enough. But the bamboo was pretty tough, and she couldn’t break any of the stalks. So Hamlin eased his way forward along the narrow path, each of us trying to push aside enough not to crowd him. Paul held his hands down stirrup-style to boost him up, but Hamlin ignored the offer and jumped, grabbing the edge of the ledge, then hauling himself up. He easily pulled enough bamboo stalks to arm all of us, clumps of dirt still sticking to the root balls. We passed each one down the line until we each had ours, then using the rocks as whetstones, we put sharp points on one edge of them with varying degrees of success. Mine, for example, was more of a blunted inverse “V” rather than a real sharp point. And I won’t even begin to describe Gabriel’s. Joda, on the other hand, and managed to make hers with two points surrounding the hollow center, like a tong. She caught me looking at hers and merely smiled.

  “Ok, what do we do now?” asked Paul, maybe the first words I had heard him utter. We were all standing on our own little pieces of trail real estate, looking down the three feet to the water level.

  Yash, in the middle of our column, hoisted his bamboo spear and threw his into the water. The spear barely pierced the surface of the water. The fish beneath didn’t even have the courtesy to act frightened. The spear floated slowly away until one edge of it caught the current and it was pulled into the torrent.

  “Well, that was special,” intoned Julie, and the rest of us broke out into laughter. I think Yash took that wrong, but he was able to control himself and not snap back.

  “Looks like we’re going to have to spear them.” Hamlin was back taking charge. He took off his pants, and clad only in his underwear, he started to lower himself slowly into the water. Despite it being clear, it was hard to tell how deep the water was. So we watched Hamlin as he got deeper until the water was chest deep on him. He stomped his feet a bit to get them set, then looked back up at us. “Come on in! The water’s fine.”

  Alfhid shrugged and started to undress. We weren’t prudes on Monsanto, but neither did attractive women get naked in public. She didn’t stop at her underwear, but went down to skin. And pretty impressive skin it was. Josh, Bernie, Joda, and Julie also quickly stripped down to their skin or underwear, but I wasn’t paying as much attention to them as I watched Alfhid lower herself into the water, her prominent nipples on her prominent breasts puckering as her body became more immersed.

  Next to me, Joda held out her hand. “Here, help lower me down.” I took her hand and only then noticed that Joda hadn’t stitch on, either. Although not our Valkryie, she was undeniably cute. I slowly lowered her into the water, which came up to her chin. She turned and started pushing her way through the water, shoulders swaying back and forth with each step.

  Borlinga was also in the water now, but she still had on all her clothes. I wondered if they would weigh her down. Gabriel had moved down the path and was trying to steer Josh towards some trout. Yash had scrambled back up to the ledge and was feverishly trying to get another spear. I knew he couldn’t stand not being in on the action. Neither Lindadawn nor October was getting involved, though. Still dressed, they were conferring with each other, gesturing out over the small cove.

  I looked at Ratt who smiled at me and shrugged. It was obvious that the water would be over her head, so she just stood there on the trail. I was tall enough, though, and here I was sitting like a lump on a log. I hurriedly pulled off my shirt and trousers. I wasn’t going to take off my underwear, though. Not on global holo.

  Gabriel was getting more excited. “No, no, they are swimming away. Ever time you move, they go out into the rapids.” Josh looked up at him in confusion.

  Not to be outdone, Yash started shouting at Hamlin, who had been pacing the cove, shading his eyes trying to spot a target. “Hamlin, they’re swimming away. You have to stay still!”

  I had started to lower myself into the water, but I stopped and stood back up. I could see what they meant. The dark shadows darted out of the calm waters of the cove and into the rapids anytime someone came near. And with eager Joda thrashing around, most of the big trout were nowhere to be seen.

  “Everybody, listen up.” Lindadawn stood over the water, shouting at everyone. “October here has a point. In her home country, she tells me, people have been catching fish the old fashioned way for 600 years. They use wild dolphins to herd the fish. The dolphins push the fish to the shore where the people catch them. Then the people share the catch with the dolphins. It works out for everyone. So I think we need to designate some of you as dolphins, some as fishermen. OK?”

  October stood by her as they both watched the people in the water for a reaction. Joda kept thrashing around, but the others seemed to realize the futility of what they were doing so far.

  “So what do you suggest?” asked Mike.

  “Why doesn’t everyone get out of the water and let the fish come back. Then, let’s pick some dolphins who can close off the cove, then slowly walk in, driving the fish to the rest of us who can spear them.”

  Mike shrugged, looked at Borlinga, then both of them started moving to the shore. The rest watched for a moment, then all of them, even Joda, started straggling in. Hamlin and Josh, no surprise, managed to easily pull themselves out of the water, as did Alfhid. The rest needed a hand. I reached down to pull Joda out, her wet, naked body clamoring for my attention. I refused to give any indication that I noticed.

  We moved closer together to work this out. “Asshole to belly button” was a common phrase on Monsanto, and that is what we were. Only most of us were naked or almost so. Joda’s belly button against my ass as she crowded forward to hear what was being said was more than a little distracting.

  “What October and I were thinking was that some of us use the rope as a safety line, then walk along the edge of the cove. That leaves some of the stronger arms to throw…”

  “Josh, take Gabriel, Alfhid, Linda, Julie, um, Corter and Mike, and yea, take Borlinga, too. You guys get to be the dolphins,” Hamlin interrupted. “The rest of us, we’ll stay here and spear. How’s that?”

  I could see Lindadawn start to say something, but she backed off and remained quiet. Josh, too, seemed to want to say something, but he just nodded instead. After a few moments of jostling around, we “dolphins” got together to move back up the narrow trail. Now I had Alfhid standing next to me, picking up part of the rope and handing it over. Together with Josh, we hauled it to the edge of the cove with the others following us.

  “The fish are back,” shouted Hamlin at us. “You can start now!”

  Lindadawn and Gabriel stopped to take off their clothes as well, Gabriel looking decidedly uncomfortable. I don’t know if that was cultural shyness or that he didn’t want the viewers to compare his bony build with that of Hamlin or Josh, or even me, for that matter. Lindadawn, on the other hand, looked unconcerned as she stripped, revealing a fit, healthy-looking physique, even if it was not quite so spectacular as Alfhid’s.

  Josh gave Gabriel the end of the rope. “I don’t think we are going to need our spears, so let’s just leave them here. Gabe, why don’t you go first? Just stay in the calm water, and you will be closest to the shore on that side. OK?”

  Gabriel looked nervous, but he nodded. Josh helped him step down into the water, a few feet from the rushing boundary of the rapids. Julie came next, then Alfhid, Josh, me, Lindadawn, Mike, and Borlinga. I was still a little worried about her. Wha
t if her clothes dragged her down, or got caught in the faster moving current? We slowly moved out, ringing the cove. At intervals in reverse order, we stopped to take our positions. Finally, only Julie and Gabriel were still moving, taking deliberate steps.

  I was looking across the cove at the fishermen, getting ready with their spears when I heard a choked-off cry and a splash. Gabriel had tripped or misstepped, and now he had let go of the rope and was flailing around, trying to gain his footing while at the same time, trying to push the water out of his eyes. As he put his hands to his face, he started drifting out a bit.

  “Shit,” shouted Josh, as he dived around Alfhid to try and get to him. His strong strokes seemed to shoot him forward, easily with enough time to grab Gabriel. But just before he reached him, a small eddy of the current, unwilling to relinquish its prize, caught a hold of the still sputtering Gabriel. That was enough to spin him out of Josh’s lunge and into the main torrent. Gabriel finally must have realized his peril--his shriek overcame the roar of the water as he was immediately pulled downstream.

  Josh almost seemed ready to jump into the current as well, but Julie reached out and held him back. We stood there in shock. It all happened so quickly.

  What the casual viewer of Darwin’s Quest doesn’t realize is that our telltales have a secondary function. Of course, we can’t see the same cardiac information on the holos that they can see, the ones which officially show not only our pulse, but when we flatline, the official show rules definition of death. But out telltales not only broadcast our own heart-rate, but there is a feedback function. When someone flatlines, there is a short burst of vibration, easily felt though the skin. That way, we know when someone dies as well.

  We stood all stood there quietly, waiting. And less than a minute later, I felt the vibration emanating from my chest. Gabriel was dead.

  “Well, that is that,” Alfhid said quietly. And she was right. Time to move on.

 

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