by Gian Bordin
"You are overheating dressed like this. Take off that outer clothing."
When he had peeled off the jumpsuit garment, she took it and said, touching a low broadleaf branch: "You can tie it to this branch and we will pick it up on our way back."
"No, I’ll take it along. I won’t come back."
She only shrugged her shoulders, folded the garment tightly and packed it under the flap of his survival pack. "I will carry this. We must go fast." Before he could answer, she had shouldered his pack next to her own and was off again. She maintained a pattern of alternating between running and walking, until they reached the open estuary, where they had met up with the giant bird.
"The craw is hunting. I will go out and I call you when it is safe." She got the decoy he had seen her use last time from her carry pack.
This time he was going to show her how to deal with that vulture. While she was busily assembling the spring mechanism, he set his gun at maximum charge and ran into the open space. Almost instantly he heard the bone-shattering scream coming from the sea. He turned, taking aim at the fast-approaching bird as it swooped down. But before he could press the trigger, he was bowled over, thrown into one of the few patches of deep water and pulled under, feeling a sharp stab of pain on his shoulder. Water immediately filled his mouth and nose. Then he was set upright again, spluttering and coughing, and his head held above water. No more than stone’s throw away, the dinosaur-like creature was screaming and trying ineffectually to free itself from the muddy patch where it had crashed.
Yuen-mong helped him get onto dry land. Recovering from his cough, he found his voice. "You stupid woman! That bird was as good as dead. You almost got us killed."
For the first time he saw her get angry. "You call me stupid? Don’t you ever listen?"
She picked up the gun that he had dropped, pointed it at him and pressed the trigger. He already anticipated the laser’s sharp burning pain. But nothing happened.
"Here, have your useless toy." She threw it at him. "And from now on you do what I say or I will deliver you to the savages. You can become one of them. They are about equally stupid." She turned and went back into the forest.
She must have done something wrong. He aimed the gun into some grasses and pressed the trigger. Nothing happened. He checked that it was ready to fire, tried again, knocked the gun hard with his fist, tried again. By then the creature had extricated itself and was getting threateningly closer. He retreated a few steps and aimed again, but the gun remained silent. He became aware of the throbbing pain on his shoulder and saw the bloody rip. Delayed fright shot into his guts. The monster bird looked suddenly twice its previous size, and he ran quickly into the forest.
Yuen-mong was just stowing the craw decoy into her carry pack. She briefly glanced up. He did not dare to meet her gaze. She had risked her own life to save his, and he had insulted her. Hadn’t she told him several times that nothing using electronics worked here? As usual, he had known better. And when she had agreed to take him to the shuttle this morning, she had not done it out of fear, as he had thought. He felt smaller and smaller, just thinking of how he had threatened her, of how she must have laughed inside at him.
She finished packing and got up. "Come here. That scratch needs cleaning or it will infect." Her voice had again its usual deep soft tone.
He went to her and murmured: "Yuen-mong, I’m sorry… I’m stupid."
"Take off the top," she ordered, not acknowledging his meek apology. She inspected the deep scratch on his shoulder; it looked almost like a cut. "Wait."
She ran back into the estuary. The craw was just making a run to take off. A short time later she returned with a leafy plant, including its root, similar to a dandelion. She poured water from her water container over the cut and used the crushed leaves of the plant to wipe the wound clean of any dirt. It stung terribly, and he squirmed.
"Hold still," she said, showing no sympathy. Then she broke the root in two and dabbed the rubbery, milky liquid that oozed from the breaks over the entire length of the cut. "Keep your top off for a while."
She shouldered her gear and his pack, stood quietly for a moment, eyes closed, and then said: "We must hurry now. The storm will break soon. Come."
She dashed off like an arrow. For a second he hesitated whether he should take the gun along, but then left it on the ground where he had dropped it earlier, throwing the extra charge pack next to it, and followed as fast as he could, but she reached the shelter of the trees well ahead of him. While he ran he quickly scanned the sky. Still not a cloud in sight. But somehow he did not doubt her anymore. It had almost cost him his life and hers too.
Once under cover, he heard the cry of the craw, spurring him on to keep up with her. He noticed that his shoulder had gone numb and that the pain had disappeared. Glancing briefly at the wound, he saw that a flexible, almost transparent scab had formed over the cut, very much like the foam stuff sprayed on by surgeons on Palo. That much for modern science. A little weed on Aros did the same job.
She led him back to the field of high grasses, which she called spear grass. Rather than retrace their steps through the narrow path to get to the shuttle from the other side of the field, she stayed on its northern side and about a kilometer along entered the field, taking narrow passages between the tufts of grasses. After a few hundred feet, he had lost all sense of direction and wondered how she still knew where they were going. But he kept himself from saying anything. He had made a fool of himself too often already. And then all of a sudden he saw the craft rising in front of him. How had she known where it was?
"We have to get inside fast. If the storm catches us in these grasses, we will be cut to pieces. Open the door."
"I can’t. The AI unit doesn’t work anymore." He flinched under her ironic glance. "We have to get in through the ceiling hatch. But how can we climb on top?"
"Is there no rope ladder?"
"Rope ladder? What’s that?"
"A ladder to climb up, made of rope."
"No."
"And you did not leave a rope attached somewhere to the top to haul yourself back up?"
She did not wait for an answer, but immediately got a thin rope out of her pack, attached a clump of hard earth to one end, retreated a few steps away from the shuttle and threw that end over its top. The clump broke as it hit the craft on its far side, but the rope dangled down. He did not need to be told to climb up while she held on to the rope, bracing herself against the underside of the craft. A few seconds later he had the hatch open and attached the rope to one of its hinges. She was up in a flash.
She put her head into the opening to look inside and then withdrew promptly. "What a stench! Did you urinate inside?"
Then he remembered the wet clothing he had discarded on the floor. He felt the blood rush into his face. Was he always going to humiliate himself in front of this woman? "I’m sorry. I had an accident when I crash landed and forgot to dispose of the soiled clothing. Wait, I’ll get it out and then we can air out the inside a bit before we go in."
But she did not wait for him. She was down before he got himself ready and passed him the offending garments through the hatch. He threw them into one of the spear grasses and then climbed inside too. The stench was overpowering.
"Can this door not be opened manually?" she questioned, standing in front of it.
"I guess yes, but I don’t know how. If the AI unit still worked, I could look it up in the on-line maintenance manual."
"Does the door swing out and up to open?"
"Yes." How did she know? From what she had told him he knew that she had never been in a shuttle or even seen one before.
"And how is it locked in place at the bottom?"
"By bolts sliding into it from below."
She went down on her knees and with her knife removed the vinyl floor covering next to the door. It lifted off neatly, revealing an eight-inch-wide cover that extended almost along the whole length of the door. Inserting her knife into the
slit at one end she removed it. In the compartment underneath was the door closing mechanism, including the tool to retract the bolts manually. Half a minute later she swung the door open. They both stood at the opening, breathing in the fresh air from outside.
"That was easy," she said, smiling at him for the first time that day. "We can leave it open for a short while, but when the first wind blows up we have to close it quickly. We will only have a few seconds before it hits us. You go to the hatch and remove the rope."
He looked up to the sky. It was still blue, at least on the door side. He climbed up to the hatch opening, as he had been told. Dark, billowing tentacles where just reaching over the crest of the hill about two kilometers to the southeast, like the arms of a giant octopus. Within seconds they had covered half the sky between them and the crest and a distant roar was building up to a higher and higher pitch. Frantic now, he undid the knot of the rope and pulled it inside.
"Close the hatch." He could barely hear her shout.
The hatch was almost ripped out of his hands before he managed to secure it. She had already slid the door into place and was working rapidly on the bolts. A few seconds later she secured the tool in its place and covered up the compartment.
She frantically stowed away any loose objects, and he went to help. By that time the roar outside had risen to a pitch that drowned out any speech. She pushed him to the pilot seat and secured the webbing around him. Almost total darkness engulfed them. The craft was knocked around violently. She just managed to get into the copilot seat and wedge herself with her feet against the flight console, while holding on to the armrests, before his stomach was hit by the sick sensation of being lifted up and spun around and around, he did not know how many times. It seemed to go on and on, but probably lasted only a minute or so before the craft dropped down to the ground again. As sudden as it had started, the storm’s fury had passed over them. The noise retreated in the distance, and daylight returned.
Had he wet himself again? he wondered. Another humiliation? He removed the webbing enough to insert a hand into his pants, but it came out dry. He looked around and had to blink twice. The windows were not obstructed by grasses any longer and he could see blue sky. He turned to Yuen-mong, but the copilot seat was empty. Frightened, he got out of the webbing. She lay on her side, curled up into a ball, her eyes tightly shut. Had she been thrown from her seat? Is she hurt? … Oh no, I need her; she can’t! "Yuen-mong," he cried, touching her shoulder.
"No, don’t touch," she screamed at the same time as he was hit by a powerful jolt of static discharge, and he snapped back his hand in reflex.
"Are you hurt? Where?"
She did not answer.
"Can I do something?"
"Just give me time," she whispered.
He retreated a few steps, looking at her, afraid, unsure of what to do. After a while, he could not stand it any longer. "Where have you been hurt?"
She uncurled slowly and opened her eyes. "Here," she said, pointing both hands to her temples.
"Did you hit your head? You may have a concussion."
A hint of a painful smile in her eyes, she answered: "No, Atun, it was the cry of fear of people dying."
"What people?"
"The people we share this world with … the savages. Many have died in this storm."
She got up, swaying unsteadily for a few seconds. He wanted to support her, but she firmly said "no" and went to open the shuttle door again.
Outside it looked like a horde of elephants had rampaged through the field, slashing and ripping the grasses. Only the occasional tuft was still upright. Blades were strewed around everywhere.
"We will have to stay here for the night. It is impossible to cross the grasses. They would cut us up. By tomorrow much of it will have been cleared by the night scavengers."
"But you said they were poisonous to these ants."
"One afternoon of sun will render the poison harmless on severed grasses."
He looked at the heaps of debris. It was hard to believe that these creatures would be able to get through that in one night. What a strange world.
A sudden smile lit up her face. "We won’t be troubled by the night scavengers tonight. With the grasses gone, they won’t be able to get on top of the roof, so we can leave the hatch open."
The rest of the afternoon, she spent inspecting every aspect and gadget of the shuttle, both inside and outside. She wanted to know exactly how things worked, how it was controlled, and whether it had enough fuel to get back to the outer edge of the ring. When he pointed out that without a working AI unit the shuttle could not be operated, she only smiled enigmatically and said: "We will see."
Yuen-mong was fascinated by the soft-bound paper service manual. She placed it carefully on the flat top of the flight console, as if it were breakable, and opened it solemnly, staring in awe at the rows and rows of letters and the many multicolored drawings and diagrams.
"Atun, this is the first book I hold in my hand. There must be millions of letters printed here. It is so exciting … Just laugh. This is a major milestone in my life."
"I guess, you are right. But you know, now-a-days, books have become a rarity. They have been replaced by electronic data storage."
"My mother said that she owned quite a few books … precious books, some very old from Old Earth, some new editions of poetry, beautifully bound in leather with gold lettering."
"Yes, their main use now is by collectors."
"She said that sitting in the garden of her lakeshore villa and reading poetry in a book was one of her ultimate pleasures." A dreamy look made her face even more beautiful.
It goes without saying that he had to explain some of the diagrams to her, particularly those relating to the piping of the fuel to the various thruster units. She found it hard to tear her eyes away from the manual.
She insisted on removing any food in the food dispenser that could spoil. That meant dismantling the unit, and she had more of a knack to do that than he. She turned up her nose when she tried some of it. "Is this the kind of stuff you had to eat?"
"Yes, it’s fine and contains all essential nutrients. You can give it any flavor and texture you want." He took a small mouthful of one of the blends. It tasted as usual, maybe a bit blander without any condiments added. In fact, he noticed that he was hungry and had a fill of it. Yuen-mong ate one of her breads with salted fish.
"This is better," she said smiling.
* * *
As she had predicted, the following morning at least half of the debris had been cleared away, revealing a few remnants of spear grasses that had survived the wind turbulence, as well as many stunted tufts, and paths of bare earth everywhere. They easily negotiated their way out of the field, since they could actually see where they were going. He was surprised that new spears were already sprouting in most tufts.
The devastation in the forests was hard to imagine. He guessed that at least a third of the trees had been uprooted, thrown around in angry chaos, forcing them to climb over and under them or detour around clumps of debris. The broadleafs had lost most of their foliage, much of which had already been cleared up, with only the occasional stripped branch still lying on the ground. Yuen-mong assured him that these as well as tree trunks would also be gone within twenty or so Aros days, and new trees would push their shoots into the space vacated by the fallen trees. Within an Aros year the forest would look again very much as before the storm.
There was one plus for him coming from the storm damage. Rather than run part of the time, they could only walk. It took them almost a day to get back to the cave.
Yuen-mong willingly talked, and he learned more about the daily struggle for survival on Aros. The difference was that this time he made a conscientious effort to actually take in what she said instead of dismissing it as curiosities or in disbelieving amusement. Rather than see her as this primitive willful woman, who behaved in strange uncivilized ways and who dared to boss him around, he appreciated th
at she rarely did anything without a clear purpose, usually in view of survival. Reluctantly, he had to admit her physical and mental superiority — hard for a Palo male who had been raised under the tradition of male superiority, where women of his privileged social class were mainly seen as male adornments and breeders.
He had been prepared that she would show her disdain for his foolish behavior and comments — she had saved him from what he now knew was a horrible death — that she would let him know openly or covertly how his actions had almost cost them their lives more than once, but her behavior toward him was no different from before he had foolishly threatened her with a weapon that did not function. He winced just thinking of that. She had all the right to despise him, but if she did, she gave no signs of it. He counted his blessings that he had crashed close enough to her dwelling to be rescued.
He learned that one of these storms was the cause of her limp. It was strange to hear her talk about her disability as if it were nothing of great importance when in his world she would be regarded as defective, pitied and looked down upon. He realized that this ‘disability’ was, in fact, largely one in his own mind. He could not think of anybody he knew, male or female, who would be able to match her physical and mental strength, sharpness and stamina.
She was also highly knowledgeable in modern science, both practical and theoretical — the intensive schooling she had received from her parents more comprehensive by the very lack of AI access. With a sense of shame, he recalled how he had made sarcastic comments about her knowledge.
* * *
The damage to the trees around the cave was as bad as everywhere else. However, except for a bit of disorder inside the cave and the disappearance of much of the firewood he had not yet stored away inside, the cave and her belongings had escaped unscathed. Only when he put down his survival pack, did he notice that the gun was missing, that he had not even thought of retrieving it on their way back. It is useless anyway. She had been outright beautiful in her anger when he had called her stupid.
