by Brian King
She tossed her spear to the ground a few feet from the base of the dead tree. While in a crouch, she gripped the cutting stone in her right hand and slammed it hard against the wood. She repeated the motion about twenty times before stopping to look at what she’d done. The cut was maybe an inch deep and three inches long on that side of the trunk.
“Hold up,” I said during her pause. “Let me take a crack.”
“Of course.” She gave me the rock, and I handed her my spear. I took the stone and gripped it just as she had done. It was less of an axe and more of a palm-sized rock that happened to have a thin, sharp edge to it.
“Here goes,” I said. I swung my hand in the same downward motion Sheela used, so my blow landed right in the wedge of exposed wood.
“Fuck me!” I shouted.
“It is painful,” Sheela agreed without any of my emotion.
“And you cut all those saplings in the cave using this thing?”
“The trees I felled for spears were much smaller and the axe does take some getting used to,” she replied.
I experimented with holding the rock in different ways as well as hitting the tree at different angles. Every hit remained just as painful as the first. The only thing that helped was using less force, but those blows hardly left impressions in the wood. After striking a few more times as hard as I could, the gash in the tree was only another half inch deep, so I switched the rock to my left hand and fanned my throbbing right hand to cool it off.
“I don’t know about this,” I said while looking at our handiwork. “It doesn’t seem very efficient.”
“It is not. But it is all we have, currently.” Sheela held out her hand, so she could take the next turn and I was happy to trade the rock for my spear.
While she cracked the stone against the tree, I wondered if I’d made a mistake by putting off the axe-building task. It would take all afternoon to cut down the tree if we did it a half inch at a time, and our hands would be ruined from all the pain. Sooner than I wanted, Sheela held the rock out for me to take another turn.
“Thanks,” I said with friendly sarcasm as I took it. “I’m going to lay this spear against the tree. We can’t hold them every moment we’re out here.” I immediately thought about putting emergency spears every ten feet along our walking paths.
I waited for a minute to rest and then hit the tree as hard as I could for those twenty chops. My hands screamed in agony, but I did manage to make a noticeable cut that time, almost like the tree was softer toward the middle. I stood back to look at our handiwork and was pleased to see we were about halfway through the six-inch base.
“A little more and we can tip over the tree,” Sheela announced as she looked at the depth of the cut. “It will break off and save us the effort.”
“Does this hurt your hands as much as it does for mine?” It sounded stupid once I’d said it, but she wasn’t human, and maybe she didn’t feel pain the same way.
“Very much, yes. I could hardly move my fingers the day after I cut wood for those spears. However, the spears had to be made.” Her declaration made me appreciate her simple work ethic. It wasn’t that she didn’t feel pain; she just didn’t let it get in her way.
“Let’s see if we can get this down,” I said while doing my best to ignore the extreme pain as I mashed the rock into the notch. A minute later I sensed the tree was about to tip, so I pushed on the bark with my shoulder until the whole tree shifted.
“Timber!” I shouted as I jumped back. The tree crumpled right at our cut and toppled into its neighbors with rips and cracks. The branches on the downed side of the tree shattered when it finally struck the ground, and I felt a smile spread across my mouth.
The noise spooked the nearby trikes, and they galloped away for a short distance before resuming their feeding. The largest of the black-striped beasts kept its eyes on me, and I found it interesting they were heading back in the direction of the lake as if they’d already forgotten the danger there.
“I should have tried to tame one of those trikes,” I remarked. “They could push over trees without us having to cut them at all.”
“Perhaps that would work,” Sheela replied. “But we would still have to cut them so they line up when we place them for walls.”
“Okay, Miss Negative,” I shot back in a playful voice. “Then we can use them to drag the trees to the work site. We’re going to need a lot of wood. More than what is right here in this clump of little ones.”
“Shall I wait for you to tame one?” Sheela answered. It was difficult to tell by her demeanor if she was serious or having fun with me, but I took it as a joke and chuckled.
“I don’t know if my ability will work on them, and they look a bit angry to me. If we could get one alone, I’d try, but remember the run from the lake? They could kill both of us easily if we pissed them off.” I watched the trikes a little while longer, but then turned back to the job in front of me. The fallen tree had splintered where we’d chopped it, but it didn’t separate from the stump completely, so we still had some cutting to do.
“We could use a saw,” I added with dismay. I suspected there were dozens of tools we could build to expedite the construction process, but I had no idea what they were, and no access to an internet search.
“Allow me,” Sheela said while extending her hand to take the rock. I admired her athletic forearm and shoulder muscles as she pounded the axe. The tree finally snapped off the stub of the trunk, and I helped her push it over.
“Let’s use the branches to drag it to where we want to build, and then we can chop all this extra stuff off later,” I suggested.
“I like that idea,” Sheela replied. “We will cut off the top part when we have the better axe. While we drag it, let us lay our spears in the tree canopy so we have them close.” She threaded her spear into the tangle of branches, so it would ride along with us and I did the same with mine.
We each took a side of the thirty-foot tree and lifted the heavier bottom end using the lowest branches. That made it easy to drag the lighter end across fifty or sixty feet of open terrain. We let it drop when we reached the somewhat cleared area where we planned to build.
“Should we have a ceremony?” I suggested in a half-serious way. If our new camp was going to be built from a forest of little trees, the log we dragged was the very first piece of it, so maybe it deserved a bit of recognition? Even though we were in a hurry, and my hands were on fire from cutting our first tree, I was willing to spare sixty seconds on ceremony.
As long as there weren’t velociraptors nipping at me.
“Do your people recognize such things?” Sheela asked. “We have no such tradition.”
“Well, maybe.” In one of the few times I’d gone downtown in Los Angeles, I recalled seeing cornerstones with dates and stuff, so that’s where I probably got the idea.
“How about this?” I yanked off my hat and held it tight against my chest. I briefly entertained the idea of singing the national anthem, but I wasn’t a very good singer. It was also a bad idea to make unnecessary noise with predators nearby. I settled for a quick dedication, glad for the chance to rest my aching hands.
“Here begins the site for our first structure in Dinosaurland. May it last for a generation and keep our tribe safe.” I put the leather hat back on my sweaty head and glanced at Sheela. “Good?”
“Very good, although I hope Trel’s sisters do rescue us,” she said with a feline smile.
“Amen,” I said with total agreement.
Moving the tree was the least painful part of the long process. I estimated it took us an hour to cut it down and another ten minutes to get it where we wanted it. Even some simple back of the napkin math told me it would take days to cut down all the trees we needed for the walls, even if we greatly improved our efficiency. I looked into the tangle of branches while I did my calculations and noticed something interesting.
“Shit. Sheela, check this out.” I waved her over, and she stood next to me and loo
ked into the tree just as I was doing. If it had been upright in the ground, we’d be looking straight down into the branches.
“I am afraid I do not see it. What are you looking at?” she replied while studiously examining the tree.
“If we dragged this up to the cave entrance and stuck the long end inside, these pointed branches would face outward. Do you see it now?” It was obvious to me because this tree was already dead and most of the leaves had fallen off.
“If you did that, it would prevent anyone from gaining entrance to the cave,” she said. “This serves the same function as the turnstile.”
“The tree for our door doesn’t have to be as tall as this one,” I suggested. “In fact, we need it to be smaller, so we can easily move it around. We can leave it open during the day but pull the tree further into the cave at night, or when there are threats around. The branches would clog up the entrance and most of them would point outward toward the threat.” I didn’t think the tangle of branches would keep out any of the largest wildlife, but maybe a huge T-rex wouldn’t even fit through the cave opening at all. I would have preferred to build an elaborate gate with spear points and axe blades to hold off any and all dinosaurs, but if the tree did most of that without the build time, it was the way to go.
Despite the pain, we cut down the next tree a lot faster. It was about three inches in diameter, maybe twenty feet tall, and had a bushy canopy of leaves which was perfect for our doorway. I held it as best I could when Sheela made the final cut, so it would not smash over and break all its branches.
“I can’t wait to hear Trel complain about this,” I confided as we began dragging the tree toward the ramp.
“She is difficult, but do not sell yourself short,” the sexy feline woman said as if we were taking a pleasant walk. “You won a major concession from her.”
“You mean that she said my name?” I guessed.
“Yes. I had to repeat her full name for several days before I realized she would accept the shorter version. Her unreasonable behavior extends to all of us, but your unconventional methods seemed to draw her out much faster than mine did.”
“What methods did you use?” I asked with a bit of surprise since I couldn’t really believe Sheela’s words.
“I treated her as an equal,” she said.
“But I’ve tried to treat her that way, too,” I stated as we walked.
“Yes, but you have not been afraid to stand up to her when she is in the wrong. Also, you have come up with good reasons why she should help us, and you have somehow gotten her to make contributions to our team. I think she is responding to your leadership.”
“That’s crazy,” I said as we dragged the leafy tree up the ramp by its lowest branches. “She hates me.”
“Based on the little she has told me, her society is very regimented. She respects powerful leaders, even those she dislikes, though she only has female rulers on her planet.”
“But she didn’t follow you,” I said in a quiet voice as we neared the cave. “You seem like a good leader.”
“My society has its own rules, Victor. I have no interest in leading her, and I do not think she would let me even if I desired it. She tolerated our arrangement while it was just the three of us women because she could pretend to be in charge. However, it is tough to lead if you never depart the cave. By going outside with me, and coming up with the idea for our new camp, you have made it clear who is our leader.”
I stopped us a few yards from the dark maw of the cave and considered her words. Sheela had been grooming me to take over from Trel. I was flattered but a little scared by how I missed the whole thing as it happened.
“I know what you are thinking, Victor,” she whispered. “You believe that Trel will never accept you as the leader of our little tribe. Perhaps she will never openly admit it, the way Galmine and I do. However, reality will pursue and capture her as surely as those birds. When you lead by example, she will have no choice but to follow your directions.”
“Sheela, thanks for your vote of confidence, but I haven't really done anything yet,” I said.
“I can see why you would say that,” Sheela said in a supportive voice. “You are looking ahead to your list of unfinished challenges, and you seldom reflect on what has changed. This turnstile is but the latest and look how fast you came up with the idea. You retrieved water with me, carried the fish, and watched over us as we slept. But that is not why you are a leader, Victor. Those are just actions. You are a leader because you bring us a plan full of hope. Without that, we would still be living day-to-day and hiding inside the cave.”
“And you’re sure you don’t want--” I started to say before she held up her hand to halt me.
“Stop. I know you wonder why I do not lead. As I said, my society has its customs. I treated Trel as my equal because that is what she would be on my world. The women of our tribe follow male leaders exclusively; never another female. It is just how things are.” Sheela said it in a way which suggested she wasn’t going to argue about it.
Her words encouraged me, and I gave her a quick smile. I felt like I was good at this kind of stuff because I was great at playing real-time strategy games. But now I was in charge of a trio of beautiful women, and one mess up could cost us our lives. I’d been trying to stay a step ahead in my planning, but her words made me realize I needed to stay five ahead.
“I’m really honored you’d think that about me. Thank you for your help. I wouldn’t be able to do any of this without you.” I wasn’t sure if I should salute her as some kind of military honor for her service or kiss her because she had figured out all the political stuff without me knowing about it. Since we both held the branches of the tree on the narrow path to the cave, I couldn’t do either.
“You are welcome. Now let us get this where it belongs and cross off one of the numerous tasks from your list.” She leaned forward, and together we dragged the tree about ten feet inside the cave, just shy of Galmine and the fire. The large canopy of branches and leaves remained outside the cave with enough room for us to walk by in single file. If a threat showed up, we could pull the trunk deeper into the cave which would snug up the branches, so they blocked the exit completely. It was a ten-cent solution to a million dollar problem, but it would work.
“You and Trel can pull this tree-barrier closed when we’re gone,” I said to Galmine while she watched us.
“You are assigning work for me?” Trel called out from behind her silk curtain. “I’ll put that in my daily affirmations journal along with all the other manual labor I’m absolutely not doing for you.”
I looked at the two other women and wondered if I should respond. After all Sheela just told me, I didn’t think a leader would respond to such insults, so I decided to ignore the spider-princess.
“You two are my heroes,” Galmine said. She faced the tree barricade and spoke to us as if Trel hadn’t said anything.
“When you get that pot finished, you’ll be mine,” I said. We’d been out in the heat of the day cutting down trees and dragging them around. Back home I might have downed several large sports drinks after the same amount of effort, but here my sporty drink was a few nasty swigs of tepid lake water. We’d soon have more water on the job site thanks to her.
“I would like to be yours,” the green-eyed woman said in a sultry voice without taking her eyes from her clay.
“Gag,” Trel spat with disgust from her spot behind the curtain.
“Okay,” I said to Galmine while I ignored Trel. “I’m glad this is going to work, but we have to get back to chopping. We’ll be right outside.”
Sheela and I pushed the turnstile tree back out of the way and yanked our spears from inside the branches. When we stepped outside, the pterodactyl shrieked in the trees above us as if to register a complaint.
“Well, she’s one threat we can push to the back burner,” I said as Sheela and I stood there on the ramp. “She definitely won’t get through the barricade.”
“
Agreed,” the blonde woman said. “The felled tree was the perfect substitute for the turnstile. What is the next task you wish to eliminate?” The feline warrior almost seemed like she was hoping for more work.
“I don’t think I’m going to be much use with that cutting stone. We need to make a proper axe with a handle, so we don’t have to kill ourselves getting a thousand trees, or however many we need for the fort.” I thought again of taming the trikes to help us, but they were almost out of sight.
“Would you like me to continue to cut trees, or do something else?” she asked, bringing my attention back to what was in front of us. “Perhaps I could gather firewood since we had to delay that job while we got water at the lake.”
“We have a few hours to do whatever you can get done,” I said while giving her a wide grin. “I don’t think I need to micromanage you, do I? But if you like to be told what to do, I’m sure I could think of something.”
“We just recently talked about how I wish you to lead me, so I would like for you to tell me what to do.” Her expression was very difficult to read, but I saw a strange glow in her feline eyes, so it took me a few moments to think how to respond.
“All right,” I replied. “Why don’t you get firewood for Galmine? We need to keep the fire lit all night. I’m going to find our axe handle.” I wasn’t sure she was serious about wanting me to assign a job to her, and I kept waiting for her to say she was joking.
However, instead of laughing it off, she gave me a little Sheela nod and then went down the ramp. She said it was her people’s custom to be led by males, but her funny expression made me wonder if she was flirting with me. But why would a married alien warrior woman flirt like that?
I carried my spear down the ramp and started talking myself out of the flirting idea. It was much more likely she was a product of her culture and simply felt more comfortable being led by a man. I was just a guy in the right place at the right time, and it had nothing whatsoever to do with any attraction.
