Through the Kisandra Prism

by Jack Challis

  Turning she found the four Vulturids were back; they regarded her with baleful eyes. The fight to the death between the Ling and the giant centipede held no interest for them; their steely reptilian eyes were fixed on her. She turned the laser to ready. But these small raptors were no fools; they stayed just out of range and began to spread out as if to surround her. She was now forced to keep quickly turning from one to the other.

  Suddenly with a grating hiss the centipede almost stood upright as the intense pain of the Ling’s venom-loaded sting penetrated between the creature’s amour plated carapace and found the soft inner body.

  ‘Yippee!’ Shouts Blodwyn as the Sisling buzzed around the hundred weakly moving legs of its victim. The centipede slowly waved goodbye to the prehistoric sky and to life.

  Before she could say another word, Boochi the Sisling still flashing red in anger flew straight to the Vulturid directly blocking her path. To this species of raptor a large insect was a snack to be snatched out of the air if it came within range; but the Sisling was just too quick for its stabbing, toothed beak. In a red flash the Ling stung the Vulturid on the neck. With a piercing squawk the raptor jumped in the air as if given a powerful electric charge and after a few jerks dropped dead: such is the potency of the Ling’s neurotoxic venom.

  ‘What a wonderful bodyguard!’ Blodwyn shouts, delightedly.

  Boochi returned to her grinning, eyebrows raised above black button eyes.

  ‘Well done Boochi…you were fantastic… you can have a double portion of pollen toffee when we get back…and I forgive you for wiping your hands and face on my hair.’ Blodwyn hurries back to the space chariot.

  A quick look behind told her the remaining Vulturids had began eating their dead companion.

  Blodwyn was relived to be back in the safety of the space chariot, despite her sticky hair. A quick monkey-wash from the bottle of water cleaned both of them up. From her vantage point she could see a plume of smoke rising on the distant horizon; this would require investigation tomorrow.

  The same sun that shines on us today was slowly kissing the distant hills that would one day become the Andes Mountain range. Prehistoric night was approaching. Surprisingly the evening became very chilly, not a time for cold-blooded creatures to venture out. “Thank goodness” she thought. She herself felt cozy, warm and safe in the chariot. Blodwyn fed the brave little Ling a triple portion of pollen toffee. The Sisling was exhausted by its gallant efforts and quickly fell asleep. Lings used high levels of energy and need high-energy sweet food, pollen toffee and honey were perfect. Blodwyn watched a strangely quiet prehistoric sunset. In the far distance the pterodactyls began roosting on the dark cliffs, she felt very privileged. Sleep as usual came quickly.

  The following morning broke, chilly layers of mist floated above the sandy ground; only the weird tops of the fern, palm and the monkey puzzle trees could be seen. She and the Sisling would wait till visibility improved; breakfast was of bread and honey. Through the mists she noticed something in front of her that was not there before. It moved. It was something very big! Thank God she was hidden by thick ferns.

  Blodwyn cloaks the space-chariot as a precaution; her heart pounding. The dinosaur had been lying down only some fifty paces from the space-chariot all night. The ascending sun soon cleared the mists. She then recognized the creature that she had spent the night beside: a Tyrannosaurus Rex!

  The Lizard-King was awake.

  The great carnivore slowly and painfully struggled to regain its massive hind legs. It was clear to Blodwyn that the twenty-five foot tall reptile was wounded. Something that looked like a giant thorns was embedded in the hamstrings of one of its huge legs. Groaning painfully, the Tyrant-King tried unsuccessfully to remove these objects of pain; first with its small hands attached to puny arms and then with its impressive serrated teeth – but without success. The reptile groaned loudly, as if accepting painful failure.

  Blodwyn felt a thin streak of sympathy for the powerful raptor and thought of the parable of ‘Daniel and the lion’ wouldn’t it be romantic? However on closer observation – she realized they were not thorns – they were arrow shafts! This was not possible. The arrival of man was still over a hundred million years in the future. Dinosaurs and any kind of man never met, regardless of the many films she had seen on the subject. Her curiosity overwhelmed her: she knew a Daniel.

  ‘Wake up you lazy little devil – you are missing an amazing sight,’ says Blodwyn. The little Ling awoke.

  ‘Give me more pollen toffee,’ it demands.

  ‘Look,’ she answers, ‘you are supposed to be my bodyguard and accept my commands, for free… not demand pollen toffee as a fee every time I speak or look at you. Go and pull one of those sticks from that Tyrannosaurus and bring it here.’

  The little Sisling flew straight to the giant dinosaur and began tugging at an imbedded arrow. The raptor turned, hissing in pain but could do nothing about the troublesome insect. Soon Boochi brought the arrow to Blodwyn: it was iron tipped! What was going on in this supposedly pre-historical era the Cretaceous?

  ‘I feel sorry for the Tyrannosaurus,’ she says, ‘take all the arrows out.’

  ‘Its bottom smells!’ The Sisling complains.

  ‘I will give you two barley sugars,’ coaxes Blodwyn. (Lings do not have human emotions or values.) The Sisling complies. All the arrows were removed despite the reptile’s protests at this little persistent flying insect that was causing it great pain. As the prehistoric mists were all dissolved by our common sun, above the quiet pain-ridden moans of the Tyrannosaurus Rex, came the familiar, excited clucking sounds again. The Crimson Vulturids had heard the first notes of the Lizard King’s requiem! The giant Tyrannosaurus was soon surrounded by a dozen cautious Vulturids who sensed its weakness.

  The large raptor hissed loudly at these little opportunists who quickly dispersed; they had plenty of time and patience to match, they would wait. Blodwyn studied this reptile killer; the animators had got it wrong. It was strikingly colored. Vivid shades of red, yellow, blue and green stripes on a shiny dark green body. And instead of roaring constantly and annoyingly loudly, it hissed deep hisses, which were sometimes accompanied by rumbling growls. Its eyes were similar to that of a modern day crocodile; eyelids closing from the bottom of the eye. The tyrant reptile was starving – it had been hounded without time to feed; it could smell the dead quadruped and painfully moved forward.

  Blodwyn kept the space-chariot in cloak and silently followed the giant reptile. The smoke on the horizon had disappeared – it must have been some kind of bush fire – she was very wrong – the fire she had seen had been deliberately lit and tendered. She landed on a high, bare sandy dune overlooking the carcass. Finding the dead and very high quadruped, the Tyrannosaurus began to tear at the rotting carcass: but not for long.

  Blodwyn noticed stealthy movement between the fern trees. To her amazement and horror tailless lizard-men were silently stalking the feeding reptile – my God! She recognized them – they were the distant ancestors of the cold-blooded Malis Afar: Malisaraptors! Their scales were more prominent at this stage of their development, as were their jaws and they looked more reptilian in appearance that the modern, alien Malis Afar. These Cold-bloods were permanently and vibrantly green-striped, ideal camouflage. These early Cold-bloods had already lost their tail and had begun to evolve into humanoids; they stood around an impressive seven feet tall.

  Their Queen soon appeared: a full grown nine foot tall Malisaraptor with a thick tail! “Why were the females of the species not evolving into humanoids?” Blodwyn wonders. This female was no different from the present Queen Raa of the Malis Afar aliens which she had seen on her last adventure. With the Reptile Queen waddled a small rotund female Malisaraptor with big round eyes and a short fat tail, this baby looked quite sweet for a killer.

  Karak, the Malis Afar who had captured her on Tarrea-one with the help of the Na Idriss, had been right, the ancestors of the Malis Afar developed millions of
years before Homo Sapiens and were of superior intelligence to man. Did the Malis Afar really build Atlantis? The proof of their intelligence was undeniable; they were space travelers when man was in the Stone Age. Before the great Ice Age the Malis Afar left Earth and settled in the Aquilla Triangle – a group of planets in the Andromeda Galaxy. However the Cold-bloods did have millions of years’ head start on man. Perhaps that was the answer to their superior intellect compared with modern man?

  Sensing danger the Tyrannosaurus turned at bay and faced its pursuers. The hot sun had warmed up the Cold-bloods, who moved with incredible speed. The Reptile Queen led the attack; leaving her small spoilt daughter with one of her many sons as baby sitter. (Babysitting their little sister was never the most sought after job of the warrior sons. Their little sibling would immediately set about attacking her sitter with sharp tooth and claw; it was good practice for the future Queen).

  Blodwyn had a grandstand view. The battle commenced. Surrounded, the Tyrannosaurus made the first attack. Picking up a lizard-man in its mouth it shook him, breaking his back and then threw the lifeless body aside. All the while iron-tipped spears and arrows embedded in its brightly colored body – adding another hue: blood red. Many of the arrows and spears over-shot the tyrannosaurus and hit the space-chariot, bouncing off with a metallic twang; she hoped the cold-blooded Lizard-men would not notice this fact!

  Another Cold-blood fell victim to the dagger like teeth; but too late, now the giant lizard was hamstrung as the tendons at the back of its legs were cut through. It was the Queen that gave the killing thrust. The King of Lizards slowly began to fall, like some giant tree. Finally Tyrannosaurus’s great head fell to the blood covered sand with a dull thud and bounced just once.

  The Queen then seemed to make a victory speech in a hissing voice:

  ‘This killer is the last of its kind here,’ announces Queen Raa, ‘the rest have moved,’ she pointed North towards modern day America. We will follow but first I will lay a clutch of eggs. For once I may get more daughters - not useless stunted sons with out fine tails – sissy sons who have to burn their meat. Now…I and my little-mother will feed first,’ the Reptile Queen gently stroked the small infant with a hooked talon.

  ‘Then we will hide our dead in the secret place.’ The skeletons of our race must never be found by those who follow us…. to hang up and stare at.’

  (A single bone of a Malisaraptor or a Malis Afar has yet to be found by archeologists.)

  Blodwyn watched as the Queen Malisaraptor opened up the carcass of the tyrannosaurus with tooth and talon; patiently she fed her spoilt daughter who bounced up and down in greedy anticipation on the choicest giblets, while her warrior sons kept their distance and lit fires: their mother Queen was dangerous and very bad tempered at feeding time.

  Blodwyn noticed some of the Cold-bloods kept looking in her direction – how could this be – the space chariot was under cloak. Could they smell the engine of the space-chariot? Was the craft giving off some electrical field that the lizard-men could sense? The answer was simple: the x-nine fuel for cloaking was running out! The image of the space chariot was just beginning to flicker. She had been warned by Admiral Sebus not to over-use the cloaking device. Blodwyn cursed herself for not being more cautious. After all…what difference would it make if a prehistoric being saw her flying past; would the sighting appear in the papers the next day? Cloaking was only for her personal safety – she had squandered it. Now she really needed it to save her life. She cursed herself again. The image of the craft was now flickering like an old television set about to give out: she had been spotted!

  Chapter Twenty Three

  Hunted

  ‘Who’s heart pumps the fastest…

  the hunter or the hunted?’

  This the Oracle asks the Quibley Sage.

  ‘In my way of thinking, my lord’ answers the Sage,

  ‘tis the hunted, for it fears cruel death or the torturous cage’.

  Blodwyn prayed nothing else was wrong with the space chariot; she had to get away from the lizard-men. If she thought these primitive Cold-bloods were going to fall on their knees in fear and worship the magical craft before them, she was wrong. The Queen Malisaraptor stopped feeding and looked directly at her: their eyes met! Blodwyn pressed the lift-off button, her heart palpitating; something was wrong… the space chariot was not responding! The space-chariot then shuddered and slowly began to rise: far too slowly.

  Picking up her heavy spear the Reptile Queen threw it with all her might. Blodwyn sat transfixed by the tiny dot heading towards her with great velocity. The heavy iron-tipped spear hit the craft with a thump and embedded itself in the back of the space chariot between two telium plates; green liquid began to bleed from the engine.

  ‘I have wounded the insect creature!’ screams the Reptile Queen.

  The Cold-bloods led by their Queen began running up the sand dune; it was the Reptile Queen that would reach her first; the space chariot slowly began to gain height. Blodwyn held her breath. The craft was only some fifteen feet from the sand when the big Queen leapt into the air to grab the craft, her claws scraping the telium shield and causing Blodwyn to wince. Iron tipped arrows and spears glanced off the craft without causing damage: but her heart sank when she realized she was not going to get very far!

  The look on the Cold-bloods’ faces below her was not one of fear but of anger and envy: they wanted the power of flight. Blodwyn took the craft away in a straight line to put as much distance between her and the Cold-bloods; she just knew they were watching and would pursue her, these reptiles were clever: ambitious and determined.

  ‘Watch where the strange insect creature lands – look, it has lost much blood and is still bleeding,’ says the Reptile Queen of the Malisaraptors, looking down at the green spilled liquid in the sand. We must capture it and the insect being inside – did you see how ugly it was? I have always told you… there is insect life in the stars – we must learn their secrets.’

  The Queen returned to her feast, her sons lit their fires and burnt their meat; they were in no hurry. For it was the practice of the Cold-bloods to give injured quarry time to weaken from loss of blood and allow their wounds to stiffen. Besides, as Cold-bloods, they had not eaten for a month, they would now feast. These reptiles were sure to follow Blodwyn; as sure as sunset follows sunrise. These hunters also liked to peruse their quarry when they were at their fighting temperature. Cold night was slowly leaving the underworld.

  Blodwyn was now some four miles away, not a long distance where swift moving Cold-bloods operating at the right temperature are concerned. Soon she passed over a small river – later to become the mighty Amazon. Her heart sank when she saw it was shallow and would be no barrier to her pursuers. She began to feel the space chariot slowly losing power: “you stupid cow Blodwyn Jones!” she cursed herself again.

  She landed with a bump and a shower of sand. She surveyed her new surroundings. Ahead was a rocky ridge. It was now vital to distance herself from the space-chariot. Putting on her rucksack she carried as much of the dates and honey as possible; the Sisling carried the barley sugars. Much had to be left behind. All the pollen toffee had been eaten.

  The afternoon sky ahead was now darkening with heavy storm clouds and a chilly wind was blowing in her face; she had to find a hiding place that provided shelter, the cold wind and fear made her shiver. After a long and tiring walk she reached a rocky ridge. Blodwyn could see large ferns growing between the great rocks. She looked behind; her tracks were plainly visible in the soft sand; she had traveled too far to go back and obliterate them before darkness. Hopefully the coming storm would conceal the direction of her passage. She began checking the small caves and large crevices to find shelter; sending in the little Sisling just in case some creature was resident.

  ‘It smells in there,’ was all the little Ling could report.

  ‘Look,’ says Blodwyn, ‘you are not an inspector for the Welsh Tourist Board, we just need somewher
e to shelter and hide for the night…not a two week holiday.’

  Eventually she noticed an entrance that was hidden behind a clump of large ferns and squeezed in; it was ideal. There were two levels inside; the top level had a ledge with a fissure just big enough to see outside. Leaving all her food and equipment inside she began cutting fern fronds. She made sure they were well away from her intended hiding place so as not to give her position away. It was now very cold – a biting wind froze her to the bone. Lighting and thunder flashed and vibrated her surroundings. The Sisling ferried the fronds into the small hideout. Large cold drops of rain began to fall. Once inside she then started blocking the entrance of her small crevice with rocks as a wind break and to keep out anything undesirable.

  As darkness began to fall the full force of the storm could be felt, lightening gave her surroundings an eerie look, visible through her peep hole. In the snug gloom Blodwyn placed all the fern fronds on the rock ledge and made a soft bed. Climbing into her sleeping bag she was soon warm and cozy and watched the violent prehistoric storm rage outside. The little Sisling got in with her.

  She could relax for the moment, the Cold-bloods would stay close to their fires under shelter; cold and wet were not to their liking, it made them slow and lethargic. Despite the trauma of the day she was hungry. Young spring dates, then bread and wild honey were her supper; she gave Boochi two barley sugars.

  ‘I like milk,’ announces the little Sisling looking at Blodwyn chest.

  ‘Well don’t look at me!’ she says, ‘I am not a jersey cow.’

  ‘Will you have milk tomorrow?’ asks the Sisling.

  ‘Look, female Terasils do not produce milk on request or on any given pre-arranged date… or on commercial demand, now no more talk of milk…I have more important problems to think about… go to sleep.’

  Blodwyn looked down at the little Sisling; it had already fallen asleep during her short lecture. Through the fissure she checked outside. Lighting flashes illuminated the dark night showing up a herd of large two legged duck-billed dinosaurs hurriedly passing, also seeking shelter. The prehistoric scene brought back the true realities of her dire predicament – what will the rising sun bring – tragedy? Try as she may she could not think of a solution to her problems; she gazed up at the roof of her dry shelter illuminated by the lighting flashes: something big was moving on the roof directly above her head! The movements were not natural to any warm blooded mammal. She preyed it was not a giant spider! She would be trapped.