BEYOND THE PALE: ( The Outlander )

by Gil Senan, Senan

  “If we move fast, we might get a better view of him when he reaches the end of this ridge” said Isa hoping to rouse his brother who seemed rooted to the spot. Already moving in that direction, which was about 150 metres ahead, Isa motioned for his brother to follow. Picking up the pace they headed to the wide breach in the rock between this ridge and the next smaller one. Two steep cliffs now faced each other either side of a chasm. Judging the distance to be around 40 feet; the stranger above, River reflected, would be stopped in his tracks once he came to it.

  “Where is he?” said Isa, as he shielded his eyes from the sun to scan the crest of the ridge. “Do you see him?”

  As soon as the words had left his lips, the figure of the man had come suddenly into view about 30 feet or so down from the summit. Far from being stationary, he was already moving, and to their surprise and astonishment, he launched himself across the divide towards the facing ridge. River’s eyes darted across to locate the target landing; a slope, set at an incline of around 45 degrees. Taking in the narrow ledge lower down, he intuitively grasped the intended strategy. It was a bold and courageous move. He would have to work hard to stay on his feet at such an angle. Watching in eager anticipation, excitement rippled through his veins.

  It was clear from the moment of contact that something had gone wrong. He was moving down the incline in a rolling, lurching motion that was becoming more and more erratic. In stunned silence, the brothers watched in horror as the man tumbled hopelessly out of control. The outcome, though inevitable, was no less shocking when it came. Sliding down the gradient on his back with nothing to break his fall, he glided effortlessly over the edge.

  The trajectory of his fall was such that only the first few feet of the descent was visible to them from where they stood. Exchanging glances that betrayed their mutual foreboding, they raced to the foot of the next ridge where they expected to find his lifeless body.

  He was lying on his front, head to one side, his arm twisted at an awkward angle. Taking in the dark skin and the large inert frame, River leant in close to listen for the breath. Placing two fingers on the hollow above his collarbone, he felt a faint pulse. “He’s alive!” River announced breathlessly “He’s still alive!”

  Isa felt conflicted as he took in this information. He had been impressed by the skill of this mountain runner and felt that his courageous spirit was deserving of their help. But what was to be done? What if he hadn’t been alone on the ridge? There might be other city dwellers that may already be looking for him. He cast his eyes around uneasily at the thought.

  “We can’t leave him!” said River with conviction, as though anticipating Isa’s objections.

  “Then what is to be done brother? At any moment others may come looking for him. We can’t risk being seen and you know as well as I do, we can’t take him back to Avana. Our first duty is to our own people.”

  “I don’t think there are others. He was alone up there Isa, and needs our help.”

  River could see that Isa was not convinced, and in an effort to reassure him and enlist his support, he pressed his point further.

  “He will need water and protection from the sun and predators. If we move him to the caves located at the start of these ridges, he will have those things. If there are others out there looking for him, then we will see them before they see us. He may not make it I know, but there is little blood shed, and he still breathes! I can tend to his injuries and fix his bones. All will be well brother, trust me on this,”

  Isa remained silent. The still and battered frame of the Major’s twisted body lay between them like a question mark. There was nothing that Isa would not do for River, but the same fierce loyalty that shaped his character, blazed like a sun when it came to the safety of the community they shared. Taking in the powerful military bearing of the man, Isa’s deep misgivings were difficult to shake off. In all probability he was a Ranger employed by the citadel. Strict rules; issued by the Elders, were observed by their tribe in all matters of community security. As one of the most loved and respected amongst them, Geren their uncle, would be the first to insist upon caution and forethought.

  “Well Brother, what do you say?”

  “That it is a good thing it is me standing here before you and not our Uncle, for he would not be so easily persuaded!”

  ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

  The brothers instinctively sought out one particular secluded cave with a narrow and concealed entrance in one the larger rock ridges. They knew it quite well and had spent time there before. They carried the Major there on a makeshift stretcher, forged from the branches of the Aspen tree and Mountain Pine. This was the Isa’s handiwork and once the Major had been carried through a narrow entrance into a cool, dark chamber, he set about the tasks of finding fire wood and water. He soon built a small fire which illuminated the deeper parts of the cave beyond the reach of the sun's pale illumination. The cave was narrow and long with a high elevated ceiling. Although it was natural, it did resemble a constructed chamber which also had unique acoustic properties. Any loud sound would reverberate several times around its walls. There were a couple of pools of water that were fed by water dripping down from cracks in the ceiling. The sound of the water dripping into the pools resonated and reverberated creating a pleasant ambient ringing sound. There were certain indications, that the cave was used sporadically by perhaps mountain lions. However the cave was presently vacant and the fires would discourage any unwelcome visitors.

  To further supplement the light, Isa fabricated torches fuelled by the sap of the Aspen tree, and set them into crevasses in the rock where River was to work. Then together they converted the stretcher into a raised platform that allowed access on all sides, and got to work with the business of removing the Major’s clothing.

  Due to the nature of the injuries, and to minimise further trauma, the intention had been to cut the fabric of the extraordinary tunic he wore. Proving to be resistant to the blades of their hunting knifes however, they were left with no choice but to divest him of his clothing in a wrestling action that was performed with difficulty and much physical effort. The whole operation took several minutes and would, River reflected, have been excruciating for his patient had he been conscious to endure it.

  River surveyed the Major to assess the scope of his injuries. The right shoulder was obviously dislocated and the left leg was broken. The same leg was also dislocated at the knee joint with bone ripping through the flesh. Both the lower limbs were man made however, from the knee down to the foot. The colour and texture of the skin was remarkably similar to the rest of his body.

  His first task was to correct the dislocation to the shoulder. He moved the arm into a neutral position close to the body. Flexing and supporting it at the elbow, he externally rotated the humerus until he felt resistance. Slowly and gently, he moved the upper arm anteriorly, listening for the click. With the final manoeuvre he rotated the arm back into the body.

  Next he turned his attention to the dislocation at the knee and reset it into its artificial socket. Before he could stitch the wound, he needed to reset the fracture to the femur, and for this he enlisted the help of Isa, as the leg was insulated under heavy muscle tissue, and realigning it required a degree of force. Isa had also constructed a splint from cedar wood, which they padded with leaves and bound to the leg with soft pliable birch branches. Finally River cleaned the wound at the knee and stitched it with a curved needle, using thread made from basswood fibres. Over the wound and to the various cuts and grazes, he applied raw honey soaked in tree bark to hasten healing.

  “You have worked well brother. We can leave him now with a good heart.”

  “And you have worked hard to support me,” said River. “We will wait a while longer with him until he wakes. He will be weak and may still need us yet.”

  “We must leave now, before he comes around. Our rules apply here concerning contact with strangers. We cannot talk to him and he should not see us. If we do, we risk our own secur
ity and that of Avana.”

  River fell silent for a while. He felt tired after the efforts of the day and didn’t relish the thought of moving on. Isa’s words were true enough except River had a strong gut feeling to stay. He was also concerned for this stranger and did not want him awakening alone in a dark cave. He could not bring himself to leave his patient to whom he now felt responsible.

  “You should continue on alone.”

  “I cannot run the bounds alone. You should know that”

  “Then you should return to Avana alone”... said River decisively, “…with word to the Elders of what has happened here. I will follow in a day or so. I cannot leave until I see that he is safe.”

  “A day or so?”

  “Three at the most.”

  “And who will have your back if I am to leave?”

  River smiled warmly at his younger brother and pulled him into an embrace. “Three days,” he repeated softly, with love, radiating from his heart.

  River watched as Isa departed. He was struck as he always was, by the graceful ease and agility of his running motion. Silently he blessed his brother now retreating into the distance, and he remained there, watching all the while, until Isa disappeared from his sight.

  With less than three hours of daylight left, River roused himself to make provisions for the night ahead. He had only eaten honey since his last meal with Isa and was now feeling hungry. Returning to the cave only briefly to collect his carrying pouch and to check on his patient, River set off to hunt. His destination was some high ground which was close in proximity and overlooking the pass which these ridges were located. He knew that he could find rabbit and hare feeding in the gorse. With luck he would also find chufa or knotroot as well.

  Within the hour, River had trapped and skinned a small rabbit. There was chickweed too for the pot. Weary and hungry, he headed back to the cave wishing Isa was there too to share his meal. As he began the descent, a reflection of the sun’s light, glimmering in the distance caught his attention. It was a fair way off and difficult to make out. It looked however, like a vehicle from the citadel. Since no other movement was discernible, he decided it must belong to the injured man below. He knew that the Rangers made occasional patrols into these territories, and also that they were capable of tracking their own vehicles from sensors within them. This he imagined, would be the means by which his patient would be returned to his people.

  Chapter Three

  Major Nathan Carlson awoke in the middle of the night. For a moment, he was convinced that he was at home in his own bed. Then he remembered the fall. He tried to move, but his body remained rigid, and all around him was dark and eerie. ‘Where the hell am I?’ he thought, dismissing the idea that he might actually be dead. Peering into the gloom he tried to raise himself up. A searing pain stabbed at his leg and defeated this effort. He could remember landing badly on an incline and his frantic attempts to stay on his feet...

  He was jolted back to the present by the sharp pain in his leg which was growing stronger by the minute. Tiny beads of sweat had started to gather on his forehead. He needed urgent pain relief; his whole body seemed to be groaning in pain. He rolled his eyes to activate his optical readout but got no response; pain relief could usually be accessed by voice or optical command, but the link with the computer and base appeared to be dead. He reached instead for the interface of his endorphin implant, located behind his ear. Maintaining a steady pressure for several seconds, he began to feel a wave of soothing numbness, slowly engulfing him.

  Major Carlson drifted back to sleep.

  When he woke again, a muted light was filtering softly through a narrow entrance about 10 meters away. The smell of food cooking filled his nostrils, making him nauseous. In the dim light; that was further augmented by the lambent glow of firelight, he saw that he was in a cave and not alone. A young native man was stirring the contents of a billycan over the fire - one of the men he had seen from the ridge no doubt. He wanted to speak, but his throat was dry and his lips seemed to be glued together. Alert to his stirrings, the man walked towards him with a steaming beaker and set about propping up the top end of his makeshift bed, before offering him the drink. The Major tried to take it but his hand was still weak. Crouching before him, River raised the cup to his lips.

  “That ain’t coffee,” quipped Carlson, after taking a few sips.

  “It is hot water,” River informed him, “sweetened with wild honey.”

  “It’s good,” said the Major, craving a caffeine fix. “Was it you who fixed me up?” he asked, glancing down at the tree that appeared to be growing from his leg.

  With the slightest inclination of his head, which scarcely qualified as a nod, River blinked both eyes together, in a gesture of assent. “Your femur was broken; and here” -River pointed to the prosthetic-“there was a dislocated joint that had punctured the flesh. I reset it and stitched the wound. Your right shoulder was dislocated too.”

  “Impressive,” he said, nodding his head and holding out his hand, “Nathan, and you are..?”

  River took his hand in both of his own, and bowed his head in a gesture of respect. “My name is River. I saw your fall from the ridge.”

  “Right, yes. I saw you too. Weren’t there two of you...?” said Carlson glancing around in the gloom, “where’s your friend?”

  “It was my brother,” said River, watching him closely. “He has left to go home.”

  “And where is home?” he enquired automatically. Asking questions was habitual for Carlson; partly his training, but mostly a tactic to hold others at bay.

  “You do not need to know that,” said River, in an assertive tone that was employed to stave off further inquiry. “I should like however, to ask you a question. Are you able to drive your vehicle without the use of your leg?”

  “You’ve been to my vehicle?” asked the Major, ignoring the question.

  “No. I saw it from the ridge. Can you drive it,” River repeated, “with your leg in a splint?”

  Carlson shook his head doubtfully. “Probably not,” he replied.

  “In that case,” said River, “we must wait for your people to find you. How soon will it be before others come from the Blue Horse City to look for you?”

  “New Denver?; What makes you think I’m from there?”

  “If you are not,” said River, “you are a long way from home. How soon?” he continued, persevering with his question.

  “I can’t say for sure”- said the Major; attempting to conceal his deceit with a shrug -“when or even if, anyone will come looking for me here.”

  The show of nonchalance had not been lost on River. He remained silent for a few moments, considering his response. Feeling as though he were trying to catch, and hold on to a slippery salmon, he stated what was to him, an obvious truth. “It is clear from your answer that you do not easily trust.”

  Vaguely disconcerted by this observation, and the direct and confident manner of a kid scarcely older than his son, he batted back a riposte. “Well trust is a two way street my friend. You didn’t tell me where your home is either.”

  “My question was to a purpose,” said River patiently, though feeling a little ruffled, and in the absence of any further comment, the Major; with some amusement, felt himself rebuked.

  “I think we may have got off to bad start here. I’m not at my best in the mornings,” he said with a grin. Carlson was not used to feeling vulnerable and invariably failed to recognize it when he was. He had learnt; without knowing it, that humor, being evasive and taking charge, were all effective means of compensating for, and concealing such feelings, from himself as well as from others.

  Taking refuge in his rank, he continued in this more congenial manner, “I can’t really talk to you on the subject of search operations and internal policies. It is classified information you understand…”- Carlson paused for thought before continuing, reflecting on the protocols that were in place for dealing with Outlanders. Standard procedure required tha
t natives were to be seized upon sight wherever practical, and returned to New Denver for reprocessing. -“I can tell you this however. ‘My people’ would normally have found and retrieved me by now, except that currently, they don’t know where I am.”

  “But they do have the means to find your vehicle?”

  Carlson again chose to ignore the question, preferring; as his training demanded, to dispense information on a ‘need to know’ basis. “To find me,” he told River, “our rangers will search for a signal from the communication device implanted in my body, except right now ... it is not transmitting.”

  Feeling encouraged by this more direct response, and intrigued by the notion of such a devise, River enquired if he knew why it was not transmitting.

  “That’s hard to say my friend. It may have been damaged by the fall, or it could be that the signal is blocked by the cave. It needs ... that is to say; I need to be within range of one of our satellites when I’m in the Outlands.”

  “Maybe,” said River, looking towards the cave entrance, “your transmitter will work from outside.”

  “There’s only one way to find out.”

  “Okay,” said River with a nod of agreement, “I will help you outside but first you should eat. Are you hungry?”

  “Yeah, I could eat. Is that rabbit stew I can smell?”

  Having arrived at what felt like a truce, the two men ate together in a spirit of comfortable companionship. For a while Carlson continued to probe; mostly about the nature of River’s activities on the ridge and the size of his settlement. There was something about the effortless way the kid seemed to field his questions that impressed him. He couldn’t help liking the quiet assurance of this young man. Feeling restored by the surprisingly good meal and mollified by the gentle flicker of campfire that turns all men into brothers, the Major began to relax and fell silent. When finally they spoke again, it was River who broke the silence.