The Wild Lands: Legend of the Wild Man

by Joe Darris

  Then footsteps.

  “We're not supposed to be here!” Urea hisses. There is nowhere to hide in the immaculate white hallways. “I snuck past the guard, we can't go that way. How did you get him in here?”

  The footsteps are louder, closer. They don't have time. Then Urea's heart drops out of her chest. Echoing down the hallway she hears a familiar voice.

  “Urea! Urea!” he screams, she could hear her own voice in her twin's. “I'm sorry I got lost!” Skup rounds the corner with a hawkish grin. “Not all of us have cat like stealth,” he says, then stops.

  Urea tries to push away from the ape but its useless. He's taller than her, more robust. She gets far enough to see his eyes, before his grip tightens on her arm and she feels capillaries burst and bruises form. His eyes sparkle with electricity. Someone is behind those eyes.

  “What the...?” Skup tries to ask.

  “Run!” screams Urea, she hisses and tries twist free. No use.

  “Urea!” Skup screams and runs towards his sister. The ape easily scoops him up. He holds the two aloft, like children. Skup beats on the ape's arm to no avail. Even if he did hurt the ape, the pilot would feel nothing. VRCs don't transmit pain.

  “Who are you?” screams Urea. She scratches and hisses at the ape, lost to the instincts her mind is accustomed to fighting.

  A low growl emanates from the rough animal vocal chords: a voice better suited for howling at the moon or facing down a rival over food rumbles at her:

  “Baucis.”

  Chapter 35

  Nature seduces us, plays us against each other. She'd as soon see us torn apart by the Wild Man as the Scourge devour our bones. Our greatest strength lies in the wisdom of the Council. They alone hold the answer to the Wild Man. They must face him while our humble flock waits meekly.

  He sits in his cage. Nothing can be done. The walls are solid. The blue shimmering force shoots pain through his arm and can't be weakened. He thought he could escape, but no. The Hidden know how to make strong cages. He spends his time scribbling on the floor, trying to understand.

  Kao is his name. He was given it by a mad hermit more god than man. A mad hermit who lived in a cave, gave up meat and the ways of his elders for potions and paintings. Look where it got Kao. He does not understand who sent him here. The hermit? The Hidden? His dead sister? She's alive. He wastes his life in the chamber. Nothing can be done.

  Time has slipped from him. The lights blaze, always the same eerie brightness, never ceasing. He eats what he is fed, like a pet, a stray dog. It strengthens him but with each bite the moon pulls at him less. That is not so bad. He realizes he has felt this power for many moons. Its the power the meat from the forbidden planes would give him.

  Kao liked to hunt there (though he wasn't Kao in those times, in those times he existed without a name, without anything except himself and his spoils). He would bring catches to his family, outrageously large rabbits, ground birds big as children. They were always sparkling black, a midnight rainbow. His tribe was always afraid to eat them. Kao never understood. Now he does. He should have listened. His last hunt proved to be a mistake. He chased a young prongelk too far. It was his own fault. He should have known that its beautiful bedecked antlers were too good to be true. It was a god's animal, or a demon's, the difference is unclear.

  The Hidden are real, and stronger than he ever imagined. Kao was marked by their cursed animal, one, two, three times, close to too painful to understand. Not true. Kao understands weapons. As soon as those three prongs slipped into his flesh, part of him, that deep-down savage part, hoped they would stay and gore others worse than they gored him. Little good they do him now. Nothing can be done.

  He misses his family. He misses the father he never knew, his mother buried and lost to the earth. He misses his sister, and wonders if she lives. She hung limp and lifeless in the talons of the kingcrow, but she did not smell dead, then later Kao found her bracelet, high up were it should not have been. Kao longs to see her. She spent much more time with the hermit, and who knows what the mad shaman taught her? He had long said Kao was brighter and bolder than the last generation, maybe he saw even more promise in his sister. Kao was sure of it. She was so smart, much smarter than me. She knew the habits of every animal in their jungle. She seemed to be able to ask any of them, be it bird, cricket, squirrel, if any of their kin were sick and they would bring them to her for a peaceful death. She would bring the little animals to her brother and their mom, always crying softly. Fish, lizard, cricket, her tears knew not the difference. She would bring them the animals ready for death amidst a basket of berries and the family would eat and be content to be together as they mourned a lizard. His sister was gifted, but Kao was certain only one could truly know how gifted, the hermit.

  Every minute of every day, Kao yearned to see the hermit again. He wanted answers, but would settle for rotten advice and a spoiled laugh. The hermit would understand what was happening here. The hermit would know how to escape. Kao wonders what the old man's name was, if he had one. Surely he does, he was obsessed with symbols and stories, he surely had one about himself. Yet Kao had never asked it, nor had the hermit told him. The man was so mysterious, and Kao's last link to his people's past. Someone would have to teach his sister their stories, and Kao was no story teller.

  He hopes he can find her and bring her home. He wants to catch food for her, to gather fruits and berries together. He wants to teach her which organs must be cooked and which are best raw. He wants to care for someone.

  For any of that he must escape. He has tried so many times, but the walls do not budge and the shimmering blue makes his arm sting. He does not mind the pain but abhors the futility of it all.

  Then: footsteps. Not the near silent steps of the girl, and not the angry fat squelches of the pudgy little man's fat feet. (Kao took some consolation in the Hidden's feet. Just as many toes as him). These footsteps are more measured, not as quiet as the cat girl's but more in tune with the rhythms of things. They are far apart too, the legs on those feet are much longer than any of the Hidden he has seen. And there is something peculiar, they don't land quite right, there is almost... a limp!

  Kao leaps to his feet. From around the passageway he sees first a flickering shadow, then the hunched shoulders and wispy gray fur of his old teacher. The hermit is alive and free! How he did it, Kao has no clue, but he knows that if anyone can figure out the Hidden, it is the old hermit. The old trickster! He approaches the shimmering surface and waits for the elder to get close. Kao tries not to smile. He is overjoyed to see the old one.

  Before Kao can say a word the old man points to his eyes, then to Kao's. His hand trembles fiercely, like he is having trouble controlling it, then goes down to his side. Then he turns to the box that the pudgy little man had used to strengthen the shimmering blue wall.

  Kao wonders what the gesture meant, the hermit had never used it before. Did he see the spark in my eye, the lightning blue spark that tells of a Hidden stone?

  "I'm free, they have not touched me," he says, but he wouldn't believe it.

  The hermit glances at him again, his eyes burn electric blue, like Kao's, then lurches back to the little box. He knows their power too? Kao thought his prongs gave him the Hidden's strength, but maybe there was another way.

  The shimmering field vanishes. Kao runs through and embraces the hermit, long and strong. He doesn't quite hug back, just wraps his arms around Kao like he's going through the motions. Why is he so distant? He is not acting like himself at all. The Hidden have changed him...

  But the stench of the hermit brushes all else from Kao's mind. The old man smells awful, like the vegetables the Hidden eat have all rotted and mixed with the hermit's potions. Kao smells like this too, he has bee eating it for weeks, but the hermit smells rancid, like rot. His body is not taking to the alien diet. Kao is not surprised. Urea looked healthier than his pudgy captor, the Black Moss might just be too tough for any but the young and virile.

 
; “Are you safe?” Kao asks, and pushes the hermit an arm length away to look at him. The old man man is shaking so much Kao can't tell what he tries to say. He trembles, convulses almost. His whole body twitches. Kao notices long scars run up and down all of his limbs, his ribs, his neck. The wounds are still fresh, pink, and held together with knots of string. Kao takes hold of one the hermit's hands and holds it up close. The hermit wraps his other arm around Kao to support himself. His tremors are getting worse. Kao must free him from the Totem before the Hidden do worse. Scars run along each digit, it seems every bone in the hermit's body has a scar cut above it. He has been butchered and sewn, all while living.

  A prick in Kao's neck and he understands. He shoves the old one off him, the violent gesture no less painful for Kao. A bolt of lightning discharges from his prongs and knocks the hermit down with more force than Kao intended. The frail old man heaves himself to his feet.

  For the first time he looks happy to see Kao. His tremors have ceased. How could Kao have been so stupid? That spark in his eye was the Hidden. The stench should have told Kao everything. The spark could never have be from the energy stored in the hermit's body, not if his body was having trouble digesting the Hidden's food. The spark in the hermit's eye was the same as it was for everyone but Kao, control. But Kao's lighting damaged their stone. The hermit is free, for a moment.

  Lightning ignites Kao's body. It hurts, it burns, but no worse than the force from the tree did, or the shimmering field when he charged it. The prongs in his arm burn red hot, but he has adjusted to the electric crackle that sizzles through his body. Then it increases. He sees lightning, hears thunder in his ears, his muscles tense and he topples to the ground.

  The hermit rushes to him, almost catches his dissent but is too old, too frail. At the last second he lets go of Kao and the warrior bashes his head on the floor, hard. He fights for consciousness but it is a losing battle. He has not tasted the moon's pull in too long. The power he thought was his now owns him.

  The last thing he sees before the world thunders black is the hermits eyes flash blue. The old one straightens himself up and pulls away from the young hunter. Hidden again

  Chapter 36

  Make no mistake, mankind lives on borrowed time. All that buys us more are the beasts Nature sees fit to place in the Garden below. We have all tasted bitter doom... taste now sweet hope, a flavor you'll soon know, for if Nature gives us allies for tools, we may buy a place in this world yet.

  Dreams slip through Kao's mind. He dreams he's back in the river, clutching to the bird he fell with, but then it morphs to a cat, then a serpent, all the while he's stabbing and stabbing, but to no effect, the chimera is invincible. Deeper and deeper he goes into the water. It fills his lungs and tastes foreign and forbidden, a taste he has craved his entire life. It burns his nostrils and his throat. Finally he rests on the bottom and feels the thick mud squelch up around his feet. He reaches out, done with his fight but not his life. His fingers find a branch and he pulls as hard as he can. It yanks free, and becomes his elk skull and leather shroud. He adorns it and finds he can breath. It soaks up the water in the river and then he stands above the chimera, now a fish, gasping for air. It's powerless out of its element. He breathes a sigh of relief. The air tastes tangy, it holds a charge.

  Kao awakens. He is moving. Someone is carrying him. There is a stabbing pain at the base of his skull. He will not open his eyes. He fears the gods are already inside of his mind, and does not want them to see a thing. Still, he is curious, and cannot fight blind any better than they can, so he raises an eyelid and peaks out at the world.

  The hermit's arms hold him in a rough embrace. He carries him like a child, one arm beneath his shoulders, the other at the crook of his knees. The old man fights for air. He should not be strong enough to carry such a heavy load, but the Hidden are heartless, and care not for their slaves. The old man trudges on, his body shudders each time he steps on his lame leg, but his pain falls on deaf ears.

  Kao leans up slightly to better see the long white hallways he is carried through, but one of the gods must have their spark inside of his mind as well, for as soon as he does lightning courses through him and he goes limp. It always starts at the back of his head. He knows there is a stone there, he only hopes he can free it from his flesh.

  The hermit trudges on. Kao is sure the old man's legs burn. He can feel him tremble, but the Hidden inside pushes him forward relentlessly. There is no rest.

  Finally he turns into a small room. They enter and a wall shimmers into place behind them. This room is larger than the one he was held in, but still has the same 5 walls like a honeycomb, the same sharp charge in the air. He drops the hunter unceremoniously in the center of the room, then marches to the edge and stands straight. Tears leak from a soul hidden behind eyes sparkling blue.

  The shimmering blue wall vanishes and 4 monkeys bound in. One carries shiny silver blades, the others long silver-white strips that glisten like abalone. They are made of the same stone as the tree itself, he can feel them hum and pulse with the charge in the air.

  The monkeys eyes are filled with abject terror. Even behind the blue sparks, he can see their dilated pupils and smell their fear. Despite their long contact with the Hidden, they still fear him. This is good.

  He smells more in the air. It smells of a hunt, of brothers and cousins striking out to do what must be done. Excitement, fear, desperation, nervousness. He fights the stone on the back of his mind, fights the pain that surges every time he moves and looks at the hermit. The old man nods ever so slightly. Its his musk. He's been filling the hallways with it, charging the air with another power at once more apparent and more invisible than the Hidden's lightning. And the monkeys smell it.

  The hermit jerks forward, then collapses to the floor. For a moment he stands, the spark is gone and he looks at Kao with wild determination, but then his body seizures and he collapses. When he stands, there's more fluidity to his gait, his motions are smoother, more practiced, but not totally his own. His eyes sparkle blue, but not the same brilliant shimmer as before. They'd more subtle, subdued, ready to flare up if needed. A battle rages inside the hermit's head.

  The old man's body strides forward. The being behind his eyes works with the limp, but still carries the old man's body like a toy instead of the sacred vessel for the man's soul that it is. He stands over Kao, smirks. His scent is stronger than ever. Can the gods really be blind to a sense so powerful? Kao hopes. He has smelled nothing but himself, other animals and the metallic twang that seems to be in everything.

  “I am Baucis. A p-p-pleasure to m-m-meet you,” the old man grunts. His voice sounds bizarre, too high pitched and throaty. Its entirely forced and sounds strange between stutters. “S-s-surprised? I was too. L-Language is more p-p-primitive than I had realized.” The old man's body heaves and shakes and Kao realizes he laughs. The monkeys chime in, their voices as nervous and alien as the hermit's.

  “I don't understand your guttural language, I just th-th-think in mine, and thus speaks the puppet!”

  Kao didn't know the last word, but he knows the tone.

  “Release him,” Kao growls.

  “It only g-goes one way. I can f-fff-force my mind into his but our technology,” he says the word with a flashy smile, like he's teaching a child, as he gestures around the hexagonal room, “doesn't allow his mind into mine.”

  “Technology,” Kao says, testing the word. It feels wrong in his mouth. Like it was put there by someone else.

  “You learned a w-word! The t-twins were right about you. You have s-sssome intelligence.”

  “Baucis, You will die,” Kao growls. Terror flashes across the hermit's face and Kao knows the Hidden understand. Terror is soon replaced with calculation.

  “N-Not s-sssmart enough. Didn't anyone t-teach you to-to t-talk properly to your elders?” he grins and Kao's body shoots with pain.

  The monkeys jump back as the prongs in his arm flash electricity. One begins to hop
and down. They are not used to his tribe. Their pheromones, their look, their feel, their presence. Its overwhelming.

  “And your poor little b-b-boo-boo. But I think it will end up b-being for the b-b-better. You p-poor primitive apes don't have many conductives in your b-bodies, hence the scars.” He twists the hermit's arm around to show Kao the long scars than run along every bone in his body. “This b-body was a little d-difficult to get a signal through, but I think those three will w-work as w-w-wonderful antennae,” he says as he points to Kao's prongs. “You have enjoyed the f-fffood in our garden I hope? All filled with p-plenty of v-vitamins and minerals. Everything the Spire needs to run.”

  “Spire?” Kao says.

  “This m-m-magnificent building you're in? It's our pride and joy, and gives us everything we need.” As he says it he takes one of the monkey's long white sticks and taps each of Kao's prongs. Little sparks fly between the two. The rods wick energy from him, draining his body of the accumulated charge he built up. Kao focuses as much as he can not to discharge the power he carries. Not yet. Though he is not sure if he has that level of control of the power.

  “Well, almost everything, you and your mate came from elsewhere.”

  Kao is confused, mate? But the Hidden took no one but his sister. They cannot be that callous. Sick realization dawns on him. They never had a real interest in him. They wanted his sister all along. What good would one slave do them, when they could have a whole tribe? But without a male to serve as a father... It meant nothing to them that they were related, or years apart in age. And this was just the beginning... surely they would breed generations of workers from the incestuous sin. Baucis has no respect for the earth and its relations.