Page 41 of Caveman Alien's Heat
“I needed that,” I manage. “Stay with me. I need your heat.”
11
–Riley–
The cold hits the moment we step out of the cave. Today it feels sharper, more deliberate, like the planet itself has opinions about us staying. Or maybe it’s because that cave really is very warm and cozy, with a big, caveman-shaped space heater right next to me.
The tribe has given us furs, thick, and warm, and stiff. They smell vaguely of the dinosaur they must have come from, but I don’t mind that. I have fur boots, too, made for a boy. And we each have a pair of mittens, mine thick fur and Nator’ax’s thick, smooth leather. Yes, this tribe knows how to keep warm.
The village spreads out around us in a shallow depression carved into the ice, sheltered on three sides by mountains and the jagged ridges of a glacier. Beyond that, the land opens into a vast white plain that stretches until it meets distant mountains, blue and hazy against the horizon.
I shield my eyes from the sun and stare, but I can’t spot the flying saucer. It must be beyond the farthest ridge.
The sky above is hard and clear, the kind of turquoise that looks beautiful right up until it kills you.
I stop for a second, taking it in. “Like the set of a very expensive survival movie,” I mutter in English. “And those have a lot of dying in them.”
Nator’ax glances at me. “What was that?”
I give him a little smile. “Never mind. It is a very beautiful day.”
“Is it? I see beauty somewhere else.” He looks me up and down. “Much greater beauty, in fact.” While a compliment like that would be cheesy from basically anyone else, from him it just sounds sincere. And I’m sure it is. There’s still a significant amount of soreness down below. He’s as well endowed there as everywhere else. And for some reason, it makes me want him more. Much more.
Around us, the tribe is already in motion. Fires burn low in shallow pits. Men move between tents and storage racks, carrying tools, hauling something that looks like frozen meat, sharpening blades, and a myriad other tasks. There’s no wasted movement, no idle chatter. Everything has a purpose, and I’m starting to see what that purpose might be.
The hunter who came to fetch us doesn’t wait for us to admire the scenery. He starts down the slope without checking if we follow.
“Friendly,” I say under my breath.
“He is not here to be friendly,” Nator’ax replies. “He is here to see to it that we don’t run away.”
“Well, we’re not planning to.” I’m careful not to look at him when I say it. It’s not meant for him, anyway.
We follow the hunter into the thick of the village, and the attention hits immediately.
It’s not exactly subtle. Heads turn and conversations pause. A man stops scraping a gigantic hide and just stares openly at me, his expression unreadable. A group of men near one of the fires tracks us with their eyes.
I lean a little closer to Nator’ax. “We’re being sized up.”
“They just have to get used to us. Or rather, to you.”
“They really shouldn’t,” I snort. “I’m not staying.”
We’re led to a central area where a larger fire burns, surrounded by low stone seats and stacked supplies. Before we can say anything, Prak’ox steps forward, with an easy smile on his face.
“Dame Riley,” he says, pronouncing my name carefully. “Warrior Nator’ax. Good morning. I hope your cave is comfortable.”
“Prak’ox,” I reply, matching his tone. “It is as comfortable as a cage can be, thank you. I make sure that every tribe knows about the Gar hospitality.” I concentrate on speaking correctly. I never felt the necessity, but now I really do.
“It’s only temporary,” he says, though there’s a flicker of something that might be dry humor.
“So many things are temporary about this whole tribe,” I quip, not really sure what I mean.
Nator’ax nods seriously. “It’s only too true. Remember my advice, Prak’ox. Either run now or hope to be lucky when the dragon comes.”
Prak’ox frowns. “And if the dragon comes before— I mean, if he comes and finds the two of you perfectly well, enjoying both frit and roast?”
Nator’ax shrugs. “Our dragon does what he wants, as long as it is in line with Korr’ax’s orders. Perhaps he will burn the village when he finds us here. It’s more likely that he won’t. It depends on what we tell him, I suppose. Seeing his tribesman under a death sentence may not make him charitable towards your tribe.”
