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Happiness [is] only real when shared.
It's not always necessary to be strong, but to feel strong.

Jon Krakauer, Into the Wild (1966).

 

 

 

Nowhere … Like Home?

Copyright © 2024 Vincent Berg, all rights reserved.

Bookapy Edition

ISBN: 978-1-941498-44-6

This is a work of fiction. All the characters and events portrayed in this book are fictional, and any resemblance to real people or incidents is purely coincidental. All rights reserved, including the right to reproduce this book or portions thereof in any form.

Product names, brands, and other trademarks referred to within this book are the property of their respective trademark holders. Unless otherwise specified, no association between the author and any trademark holder is expressed or implied. Nor does it express any endorsement by them, or of them. Use of a term in this book should not be regarded as affecting the validity of any trademark, registered trademark, or service mark.

As always, I’d like to thank all of those who’ve put up with me during the highs and lows of this story’s creation. It’s hard supporting temperamental authors, and the rewards aren’t always as clear cut as more time and attention.

I’ve got a long line of people who’ve helped with the story, but I’d like to thank:

•  Editors: Steve Mintz and Mike Omelanuk.

•  Cover image, “Multi exposure concept with handsome man” by SFIO CRACHO (all images are from AdobeStock.com).

•  Cover and Chapter Title fonts, Epstolar Pro by MasklinFonts and Debock Regular by Tama Putra on Fontspring.

Nowhere … Like Home?

With no memory, ‘Adam’ (aka: Ty), awakens in an alien stone-age world, facing creating a civilization on a world unlike his own, with unknown dangers, and not untrusted allies. So many things could go wrong, how many will actually pan out as he needs?

Psychic Readings

Two separate protagonists lead a team into the unusual aspects of psychic abilities, as Logan Sykes and John Engals wrestle with the spirits of the deceased, as they seek their place between the worlds of the quick and the dead.

1)  Kindred Spirits

2)  Prophetic

Delusional Dreams: Trippin’ Over One’s Destiny

Investigating telepathic, psychedelic mushrooms, graduate student Theo Müller faces a life-and-death struggle while wrestling with his role in God’s plans

The Holes Binding Us Together

Threatened, Peg ventures into her worst fear, the holes she’s avoided her entire life, and discovers magical gates to other places. Are they a blessing, a curse, or evidence of mental illness?

Not-Quite Human

Discovering more in common with aliens than the rest of humanity, a group of misfits set out to learn who they are and search for their ancestral home, or somewhere to call their own.

1)  The Cuckoo’s Progeny

2)  Lost With Nothing to Lose

3)  Building a Nest of Our Own

A House in Disarray

Investigating her boss, NYPD Police Commissioner Eddleson, Detective Em Rules’ life is thrown into disarray by the arrival of her sister-in-law and niece, Becky.

Demonic Issues

Seeing the demons within, the world of those afflicted with mental illnesses radically changes, dragging Phil Walker, the medical establishment and everyone else along as he battles demons, dragons and fairies.

1)  The Demons Within

2)  Speaking With Your Demons

Zombie Leza

A decade after the zombie apocalypse, Leza lives, communicates with and controls thousands of undead. Whether she’s mankind’s last best hope or the source of their demise is anyone’s guess.

The Nature of the Game

The athletes at Windsor High are aiming for professional sports careers. They don’t make waves. When Taylor meets the flamboyant Jacob there’s a distinct cultural clash, as casual meetings under the bleachersr risks millions.

Singularity: The Synthesis of the Ethereal and the Corporeal

An experimental interstellar voyage goes horribly wrong and the deceased test pilot ends up back home, unhurt. Battling through internal, personal and Congressional investigations, Eric Morgan struggles to perceive exactly what he’s become.

Stranded in a Foreign Land

Discovering an injured, shipwrecked alien, Josh shelters it and seeks to rescue its companions, despite being pursued by the American and other militaries.

Upcoming:

Mother-Daughter Dance

Thomas’ casual flirting with Sharon and Anne-Lee at his ex’s wedding becomes something more substantial, as he struggles not only with a tricky threesome, but a multi-generational affair where his future is most at risk.

 

Books can be found on my website at:

www.vincentbergauthor.com

Preface

This story uses some peculiar techniques. First, I chose to apply certain archaic terms: fore (i.e. before), and morrow (meaning either tomorrow morning or sometimes ‘later time’ today)—there’s a reason these archaic usages were abandoned.

The other technique I use and have used before, is switching between past and future for different sentence fragments—it’s a valid usage, since the tense is consistent for each fragment. Though many readers dislike it, confused by its usage. So don’t say you weren’t warned.

These are mainly used by the narrator, though the protagonist often uses it too (who knows, the two might be the same person, friend or an associate).

In addition, this story is a time travel story, to the stone-age on an alien planet, hundreds of thousands of years in the past, thus there’s no chance of they’re ever returning, so a plot point (introduced later in the story) is that he was trained specifically as he knows the languages/culture/phrasings.

The last detail is I’ve been learning and applying new ‘body beats’, where the ‘action’ attributions are based on the physical responses of the speakers. The writing is much richer and well-written, though likely just as distracting and annoying too.

If you hate/despise either, please log your objections as I’d like to gage how effective the techniques are (and yes, if they fall flat, I’m open to abandoning any of them all).

01: Who the What?

Often, nothing’s worse than not only not knowing what you’re doing, but also having no idea of why. Tyler Dean has no clue where he finds himself, why, how he ended up there nor even his name. So, like most, he ‘wings’ it, making it up on the fly and making the best choices he can.

He knows in his bones they’re clearly the right ones, benefitting those he meets as well as himself, yet without knowing why be was sent to a distant age, has no clue what’s he was supposed to achieve. And as usual when you go your own way, he eventually encounters pushback from his superiors, who did.

Yet since they too can’t communicate, nor monitor him, everyone across the epochs are fumbling as best they can and working at cross purposes. Yet, out of complete chaos, often comes the best opportunities, as without restrictions, there’s no impediment to trying new, uniquely novel ideas. After all, if they don’t work out, you can always try something new, but when you’re dealing with changing the far-distant past, what’s the benefit of doing everything which has always been done? In such a situation, innovative thinking is the only viable option, whatever it personally costs you!

And Tyler’s bones are rarely wrong about such things, yet … are they the same bones? Moreover, does it even matter? What’s right is right, no matter how much your bones may ache in the future, once no one even remembers those bones anymore.

 

Moaning piteously, his head aching, he clenched his already closed eyes tight, wishing the world would fade away. Either he’d been drinking all night, someone shattered a heavy chair over his head or he head-butted a ram. Though a rhino sitting on it while sipping tea was equally likely. Rolling over, he noted he was laying on grass, not the soft short, neatly trimmed kind, but a sharp, tall, itchy variety. A type he’d never before encountered. After all, most grasses are merely different varieties of the same basic …

Only barely conscious, yet curious, he slowly peered through his lids—the light too piercing to open them—and gasped—inhaling deeply. This definitely wasn’t home! The sky was an odd orangish color, with duel suns: a smaller, nearer one with a dimmer brownish hue, and a larger, more distant one well off to the side, evidently sinking, even as the other was rising.

“What the friggin’ hell?”

Grasping his forehead, trying to hold it steady, feeling it ready to rupture, he rolled over, closing his eyes and psyching himself. After gathering his strength, he barely reopened them again, considering his surroundings without moving.

The grass was indeed … odd. He felt several pieces piercing his back. it’d likely bleed, yet the pain wasn’t comparable to his pounding headache. It wasn’t only the sharp ends, just breathing caused the rough saw-toothed blades to cut his flesh.

Not moving, he took a deep breath, trying to make sense of things. This was clearly not home, instead it was an alien world of some kind. He had no clue how he’d gotten here, yet that was likely a result of his confusion. Whatever happened, had jumbled his thoughts. Centering himself, he ceased trying to recall forgotten details, instead focusing on readily observable facts.

Resurveying his surroundings, he noted trees in the distance, the edge of a forest, though utterly unfamiliar. Standing tall—taller than any he was familiar with—with a sleek, reflective surface and adorned with multiple pointed spikes, making climbing them impossible. The air smelled different too, with an almost bitter scent triggering tears, not aiding his burning eyes. His headache easing a bit, though not nearly enough.

Evidently he was naked, otherwise his back, arms, legs and butt wouldn’t sting as they rubbed against the near razor-like edges. He definitely hadn’t stumbled out of some bar, passing out in a public park.

However, his breathing was clear, only mildly unpleasant, thus it was a relief his irritations weren’t from allergies, or he’d already be gone, without any epinephrine dosage sufficiently strong to combat an otherworldly-level anaphylactic shock. The odd scents and the irritating air triggered a cough, though he fought it down, suppressing it, focusing on his breathing. Deeper controlled breaths in from his diaphragm, not his chest. This was … old hat? He shook his head, where the hell did that thought come from?

Nervous of glancing around, as nothing he’d observed helped him understand what was happening, he wondered how he ended up here. He was … He had no idea where, nor what he was last doing. Searching his missing most-recent memories, nothing made sense. Then again, the headache could have resulted from a … currison? Whatever the word was, a blow to the head. However, his thinking was clear, his memory lacking, which was a classic symptom of …, he shook his head, something!

‘Okay, what’s my name?’ he asked, unable to answer. ‘What’s today’s date?’ Again, nothing. His questions were focused, though his answers … weren’t. He couldn’t guess the century or even the mell… “Aargh!” he groaned, the sound bounced around, echoing inside his skull, further aggravating his agony.

Frustrated, he concentrated, gathering his strength, rocking to better ease into sitting up. Now, everything seemed foreign, downright alien. He glanced at himself, confirming he was entirely nude, though he wore a new, polished leather belt, holding … shiny pointed shells?

“When the hell do I finally wake up?” he demanded, his voice also unfamiliar, deeper, slightly groaning and oddly accented. What frigging happened to him?

Pulling a shell from its polished sleeve, recognizing the glistening, hard substance—harder than most natural elements. If he had those, he must possess the matching weapon, so propping himself up with his left hand, since he’d awakened laying down, he glanced back where he lay.

There it was; a familiar shape. A … crowbar? No, that wasn’t it. He recognized it, unable to place the name. It was not only the same rigid, reflective substance, it was small, easily carried and fileable with only one hand. It had a brace and a … similar draw string, made of the identical material, which would launch the … darts in his belt. Yeah, that’s it. Darts, not shells.

Reaching over, he grabbed the crossthingy—the solid feel reassuring—hoisting it as he rose. Only rather than standing, he arched his back and sprang to his feet with a practiced ease, glancing around, surveying his surroundings searching for potential dangers. He was used to this and recognizing potentially dangerous situations, despite his faulty memory.

As long as his gray matter wasn’t dribbling down his neck, he assumed he was safe enough not to fret over his health. After all, you can’t nurse a headache when dead!

Facing an extended clearing, the odd forest surrounded him on three sides. Keeping his still unloaded crossthing ready, he moved confidently forward. His bare feet seemingly finding their own way, searching for any unusual movements.

There were recognizable yet unfamiliar sounds, which was promising, yet unlike any he’d heard before. Bark-like calls from the tress surrounding him, the breeze creating an odd hollow sound in the trees above and hissing chirps from unknown insects in the grass.

It didn’t take long to determine the face and foremost edges of the grass were sharp, so walking facing the smoother far side, presumably addressing the predominant sun, was fine. Yet, there was no way to determine which it was, the nearer or brighter one?

Moving into a larger clearing, there were still intermittent trees and shrubs of all kinds, though not a single recognizable one. Easily passing each, giving them a comfortable clearance, he continued, until he heard something truly familiar—voices.

He couldn’t yet determine what they were saying, but now knew which direction to head. Unsure whether they were friends or foe, he wanted to approach slowly and survey, before actually engaging them, another seemly practiced skill.

With many obstacles in the way, the nearer he approached, the clearer the sounds. He then saw them … and froze!

The creatures were humanoid, their limbs thinner, sleeker and significantly longer than his, and their skin a rich, vibrant light purple. Looking nothing like him, they too were familiar as were their words. Apparently he knew more than he first suspected.

Realizing he was a long, long ways from home, obviously on another planet likely thousands of lightyears from his own, he felt not only relaxed around them, his anxiety lifted simply seeing them.

Not realizing why, he surmised he’d either lived with or married one, learning their language or perhaps he was once stationed on their world, living among them.

The phrasings and pronunciations were similar, though with a shorter clipped dialect, with less complex words and shorter sentences.

Easing forward, now calmly walking through the alien grass—though still occasionally cutting him—was no longer distracting him. He was too focused on meeting and introducing himself to these people, yet again, had no idea who or what they were.

Moving cautiously, not wanting to scare or surprise them, he kept his eyes peeled and his crossthing prepped for any others nearby.

Stiffening, he froze, hearing a soft unanticipated movement among the many strange otherworldly sounds, still recognizing it. The gentle pad of a predator stalking their prey, along with the gentle click of sharp claws striking the hard ground beneath the grass.

Surveying for the creature, he drew three darts from their clips in his beltclip, loading the first, keeping the spares handy to swiftly reload. Whatever the beast was, it was dangerous and probably unpredictable.

One of the … people, both females, froze and cried “Ligor!” Her companion scrambled backwards like an upside down crab, leaving her petrified frozen behind, too terrified to bolt lest she trigger it into attacking.

Noting it still silently advancing, now issuing a quiet deep grumbling hiss—likely designed to terrify its prey—he realized it was one massive kitty. Not the small domesticated cuddly kitties which purr in another similar family. The sound, like his own voice, was too deep, seemingly vibrating his very bones. It’s fur and outer hair was thicker, with two tails instead of one, but two separate sets of precision saber-tooth like teeth projecting over its lips, too tall to fit its miniscule mouth.

Nope, he wasn’t eager to face off against this particular kitty, nor fond of its temperament or inclinations.

Moving rapidly yet noiselessly, having identified his target, he shouted “HEY!”, surprising everyone, himself included. It ceased advancing, partially turning, giving him a few more quick steps, before he pulled the trigger, aiming at its head.

It was fast, clearly nimble despite its immense size. Again, its limbs were thinner than he expected. With its body between him and his goal, it did little to block the hard metal bolt. It flinched, it’s feet tensing, shifting, not attempting to flee, as the bolt struck it, though only a glancing blow, stunning rather than killing it.

Slowing, he slid the next dart into place, cocking it, as it turned, still unsteady. Pulling the trigger, releasing a new projectile as it faced him, flashing it’s ultrasharp teeth and issuing an ungodly, terrifying cry, seemingly rattling his very bones. He was now committed, whatever occurred.

The second shot was cleaner, striking it square in the forehead, directly between its eyes. It froze, stumbled slightly, shivered and collapsed, like a six-hundred pound dead weight.

The unnamed hunter continued, slowing, not trusting the potentially wounded animal. Loading another, he prodded it with his bare foot, feeling his toes sink into its thick fleece.

Watching it carefully, scanning for others, he yelled over his shoulder. “Are you okay?”

It took the terrified woman several moments to gather her wits. “Uh, yeah, I guess.”

“I’ll need a sharp knife and something to carry it with.”

“You’re, going to carry a full-sized ligor?”

“Only the meat, but we need to move, as other scavengers will come, wanting a taste!”

There was another silent hesitation, before she stood and raced back. “Tor! TOR!”

Withdrawing another two shells, not leaving many, and surveying the distance for other predators, started searching for his rest, as their lives depended on them. Finally locating them and prying the final one from the kitty’s skull, requiring a bit of twisting and pulling, he noted someone returning.

Spinning, not knowing who or what it may be, it was the same girl, not her companion, and he lifted his … weapon away from her.

“I have it!” she announced, running up beside him as he knelt beside the beast. He glanced, her plate only a broad piece of curved bark, though thicker than most, making transporting anything even more difficult. “No one has ever killed a ligor before!” she marveled.

“Keep an eye out for others. Don’t panic if you see one, I’ll handle it, but …” He held his hand out, setting his … dart-thrower aside, within easy reach.

After a moment’s hesitation, she placed a small, black, chipped knife—obviously flint—in his hand. That’s what he hoped for, rather than something sturdier, without the sharp edge he required. “What are you gonna do with it?”

Parting the animal’s fur and holding it with one hand, he slit its belly, its intestines spilling out. Letting the blood drain, he reached in, extracting the intestines by hand, until it was mostly out of the body cavity. Once more unaware how he knew how to clean such a creature.

His assumption was correct, both its ‘guard hair’ and it’s underlining hair was thicker, the top coat slicker, making stabbing it with something as small and fragile as a flint knife virtually impossible. “Hold your nose,” he cautioned. The girl stared in fascination.

Lifting either end, he severed the upper and the lower intestine—a substantial burden—withdrew them, stood and carried them away, throwing it into a clear, open area: the bile, blood and shit flowing freely.

“That’ll keep the smaller scavengers at bay.” He returned and again knelt by her, parting the undercoat and lifting the rear leg, slicing through the tendons holding it to the body, then cutting the skin to free it.

Due to the flint’s inherent weakness, he muscled through the cut, relying on force to prevent the irregular blade from catching and tearing the flesh he preferred whole. Twisting, he freed it. That done, he tossed it beside them, and sliced the animal’s underbelly again, and handed her the knife as he grabbed the skin, raising it.

“Slice it, as I pull it clear,” he instructed.

“Why not just take the meat,” she spoke in a calm yet quiet voice, already doing so, “and leave everything else before something comes for us?”

“There is a lot of it, and I prefer feeding people, rather than even larger beasts, who’ll only be hungry again. I don’t mind starving them, whenever possible.”

They made swift work, as he removed huge strips, dumping them onto her impromptu tray. “Uh, who be you, and … why do you look … as you do?”

He paused, facing her. “Frankly, I don’t know. For now, call me Adam, as it seems fitting. What’s more, I don’t know how I got here, although, however I did, it screwed up my memory.”

“Adam?” she inquired, her voice raising at the end of the question, as he resumed his task, once more scanning for anything of concern. Smaller scavengers were already nearing their offering, though sufficiently skittish they hadn’t yet closed on it.

“In my culture, he was the first human, and … that’s what I am. We’re similar, as I assume I’m the only of my kind here.”

She chuckled. “Yeah, you are. No one else is stupid enough to tackle a ligor, much less succeed and get away with it.”

He heard something behind him, recognizing it as it was too loud to be a wild animal, which lived by stealth.

“Tiss? Tiss?”

“That’s my sister, Lor,” she assured him, before turning and softly calling out “Here!” The two individuals were noisy, not because they couldn’t travel silently, but because they too were desperate to flee.

“That’s what I assumed.” He continued cutting, dropping the last of the muscle onto their tray. When the others—the other girl he saw earlier, and an older male, so similar it was clear they were related—carrying the same trays neared, he called behind him, “help me flip it.”

The man froze, his eyes wide. “What?” Rather than pausing, Adam grabbed the legs, braced his, and started lifting on his own. Tiss immediately rose, helping. Observing her response, Lor joined in.

They finally rolled it, and it fell with another heavy thump, while Adam held the now loose skin clear, so they wouldn’t have repeat it.

“That’s a lot of meat!” the man declared, blinking rapidly.

“Leave the empty trays and grab a full one. We’ll require them as soon as you can return. I can hold anything off, yet we need to move quickly.”

They both rushed forward, reaching for the one tray, when he raised a hand, delaying them, and stood over its head. Pulling another dart from its pocket and holding it firmly in his hand, he struck the beast’s skull, hard. The others gasped when he succeeded, prying enough loose to tear part of it away, producing a frightening crack.

He then used a smaller broken portion to scoop out the gray matter, before handing it to Tiss, taking a small amount, and eating it, sucking his fingers as if it were a treat.

“You eat that?” she said, clearly shocked.

“It contains vital nutrients you won’t gain from either foraging or hunting. They’re the heavy elements which allow life to exist. They’re concentrated in the brain and heart, where they’re most essential. Plus, considering how strong, brave and ferocious this beast was, it’s our way of paying it tribute. By consuming it’s crafty brains and it’s courageous bravery, passing only a taste to us in return for the honor.”

He realized how problematic this could prove, yet given their near feral state, he wanted to convey a more natural, respectful view of hunting, to keep them from doing as humanity did, repeatedly wiping out entire species, just because they could. A healthy respect for nature is always something to encourage, over wanton greed alone. The end result was inevitable, yet the longer he could delay that day, the better for everyone.

They again stared as if he were a prancing demon, complete with curving horns and a dancing, pointed tail, Tiss tasting and swallowing it. Her eyes widening, and she took an even larger bite. “This is excellent!” she marveled, surprised.

“It won’t last long in the sun before it spoils,” he waved the others forward, “so eat whatever you can, because we can’t take it back with us.”

The rest were more hesitant, though like her, astounded by its taste, demonstrating how much they needed those heavy elements.

“I’ll carry the legs, as they’re the heaviest.” He once more took Tiss’s knife, cutting the flesh around the head, “while you take back the meat.”

“Uh, aren’t you coming with us? What are you doing with the head?” Tor was now as curious as her sister.

“Not only is there symbolic value in such a courageous creature, there’s also significance in trophies. Proving you’ve mastered the beast everyone fears, demonstrates you and your tribe are well able to defend themselves. If nothing else, these impressive teeth make a dramatic statement to anyone you deal with in the future.

“It’ll take time for them to bring back the trays, so we can’t cut the remaining meat off, less we attract every ravenous animal nearby. After they do, I’ll have severed the head, grab the heart and return to your village.”

“Ours? Not your own?”

Adam noted movement, as an odd looking cross between a long-legged ferret and a fox attacked the entrails. He again raised his hand, rather than answering, and pointed out the creature. “Are those decent eating?”

“The Nirr?” she appeared baffled. “Is fine, but too hard to corner and capture.”

“Well, we’ll find out,” he said, raising his crossbow and firing at it. It squealed loudly, frightening away all the other circling scavengers, even the larger predators.

He shrugged, grinning, and winked at her. “Hey, I just arrived. At the moment, I have no home. So, I’ll gladly follow wherever you lead!”

 

Arriving at the village, Adam noting it was little more than a few, unadorned straw huts, there was a great celebration. Especially as he brandished the dreaded Ligor’s head for everyone to see. As such, there wasn’t much excitement, primarily those hoping to be properly fed for a day.

Rather than handing it over, since he knew what they’d likely do with it, he instead took it into Lor and Tiss’s—actually their father, Toq’s, hut. Not noting anywhere suitable to lay it, he carried it further in and ended up dropping it in the dirt—like a caveman—which given the circumstances, was entirely apropos.

“Do we have any water, to wash off our hands?” he asked, not expecting much.

“I’ll fetch it. We capture rainwater, and keep it inside each home,” Tor now speaking for herself, growing confident around Adam.

“So, where’s yours?” Tiss stood near him while her family members weren’t actively watching. “What direction does it lie, how many hands is it, and do they have more of your amazing weapon?”

Rather than answering, he looked up, turning in a circle. “Do me a favor, could you go outside? I’m going to fire my darts into the ceiling, and I need someone to see where they fall.” Toq, who’d been waiting to speak, glanced between them, unsure who he was addressing. “If only one is watching, they may not be looking in the right spot. I only have a few, so can’t afford to waste any.”

“Why waste time here? When everyone waits out front?”

“If I light a fire here, the smoke will force us to abandon your hut.”

“Fire?” His eyes widening as he stepped back, ready to bolt.

“To prevent the food from killing people, it needs to be cooked,” Adam said.

“No one creates fire!” Toq stated. “Fires burn, destroying everything. If survive, we must leave area, make new home, far away, where others fight us.”

“Are you throwing your dart?” Tiss asked from outside, “we’re waiting.”

“Not throw,” he clarified, “fire. Here it comes.” He moved over, so he was several steps past the center, and aimed at the uppermost point, aimed, called “Fire!” and pulled the trigger.

“I see it,” Tor yelled, happily.

“I do too,” echoed her sister, and their bare feet sounded as they took off, each hoping to recover it herself.

“What that do?” Toq inquired. “Now rain fill home.”

“Not rain, now smoke can escape, allowing us to cook our food indoors, saving many lives. You don’t want to lose your precious daughters, do you?”

He shrugged. “Lost five. They both hard workers, but no hunter to marry,” he raised a brow suggestively. Adam merely chuckled.

“We’ll see about that. Between us, I suspect we’ll feed the whole village, once I train them.” Toq’s eyes lit up and he grinned broadly, his greatest wish nearly realized. “Though it’ll take time,” Adam cautioned, as Tiss raced in.

“We found it!” she exclaimed, proudly displaying it. Followed soon after by her sister, who was equally pleased, carrying a shallow skin hopefully containing water.

“Terrific!” he approached, reaching out and holding both of Tiss’s shoulders as if bestowing a prodigious honor, before leaning in and kissing her on the cheek. “We’ll work well together, the three of us. I can’t hunt alone, as I can’t kill, clean, wash and carry everything I kill.” Then, stepping aside, he did the same for Tor, who grinned, anticipating the impromptu honor. “Together though, we’ll be the village’s greatest hunters.”

“Us?” they both enquired, astounded. “We no hunters!”

He chuckled, which only startled them, unused to the sound. “Not before, though now you are.”

“They not yet married!” The older man insisted. “You no own them. You no change rules. I make rules, tell what do!”

“Toq, if you sit back, the three of us will feed the entire tribe and attract many potential husbands.”

Both girls’ faces dropped, though Tiss appeared stricken, an emotional flint knife thrust into her chest, her heart’s blood running down her chest.

“Don’t worry. Things will work out. Trust me.” He winked, so only the girls saw it. They had no clue what it meant, yet giggled, encouraged by his words.

“Husbands take long to arrive, you likely leave by then,” Toq grumbled.

“Again, they will come together for everyone.

“Now, do you have something hard to clear the dirt?” He sat, took out another dart, and used it to repeatedly stab the hardpacked ground, in an ever growing circle.

Toq peered over his shoulder. “What you do?”

“I am softening the floor, so we can dig it out, creating a fire pit. We require several large flat rocks, to shelter the flames, warm ourselves, and to sit and toast our tootsies,” Ty playfully demonstrating by wiggling his toes.

He hadn’t found anything to wear, yet no one mentioned or reacted to his nudity. Once again, the girls ran out, not waiting for approval. Luckily, it still wasn’t dark outside, with the world’s twin suns.

“Can I do something?” Toq seemed edgy.

“Yeah, we need dry kindling to burn, as fresh wood burns black, choking us, and alerting anyone nearby there’s a community here.”

“You really start fire?” he pressed. “Lighting make fire, and it spread rapidly, killing everything.”

Adam waved, indicating the area he’d been working. “Only a small one, from a few sparks. Only we require dry leaves, which will catch. However, there’s nowhere for it to spread, as long as there’s a draw. There’s enough space, embers shouldn’t be a problem, but having water near is always a good idea, for several reasons.”

“And you … cook meat? Like fire does? Burned black and tough, nothing left?”

“Well, a small, slow one done over time in a controlled environment. Nothing wild here. We won’t give it a chance to spread.”

Toq stared at him, then shrugged. “You kill ligor no one ever has. I will accept, just no kill anyone.”

“Only ligors,” Adam promised, grinning broadly. “Nothing else.”

The girls returned, their arms full of stones of various sizes, as Toq left. Adam directed them in how to place them, and they pointed out their collection of broad branch trays, which he used to dig up a shallow fire pit. Once set, he told them about the kindling required to start and maintain fires.

They accepted his word and headed out, searching in another direction. Adam didn’t think the village was here long enough to exhaust the available dry branches—given the local trees, more likely brush or weeds—though it’s always best to preserve local supplies for cold nights no one wants to venture out.

“Tomorrow, when we go hunting, I’ll show them likely places to collect the right types of wood. Just one of many things I’ll teach them both.”

 

When everyone returned, he demonstrated how to properly lay out a fire, having them gather around. Removing the small plastic plug from the base of his crossbow, he extracted his firestarter, two pieces of metal to scrape together, producing the necessary spark.

When he succeeded, with a practiced ease, everybody gasped. He encouraged the initial spark, fanning and feeding it, until he had a decent start, fed it the medium-sized dry sticks, and the fire built. Then urged them to move everything else to the side.

He indicated the hole he punctured in the ceiling. “Notice there’s no smoke? The draft pulls in air to feed the fire, while drawing the white fumes straight out the top. The key now, it to feed it through the evening, heating the stones so they’ll remain hottish throughout the night, and settle in. When we’re ready for sleep, we extinguish the fire for safety, but also to preserve the kindling for another day.”

Once more, the two girls were attentive, though Toq less so. ‘Well,’ Adam thought, ‘he’ll either come around, or be left behind. Progress moves forwards, yet anything holding us back, eventually falls away.’

 

The ligor meal was, interesting. Since they had no way to suspend the meat over the fire, and no carpenters or builders, Adam set a smaller flat stone in the center of the hot coals. It’s a slow process, and given the smallish stone, they could only cook a incredibly small portion at a time. Their flint knives were worthless at removing individual portions, and impractical for removing a whole leg or beast, while his was better, he couldn’t maintain the fire, while also handling the meat.

Still, the first time these people tasted cooked meat, their eyes widened. Expecting the taste of raw, hard to chew, essentially flavorless red meat, only to discover a flavorful, delicate and easy to chew meal, they couldn’t get enough. However, it too was problematic, given the limited cooking surface.

Yet Adam realized it was best, as it kept them from overeating, as their stomachs weren’t used to eating much at any given time. So by extending the eating time by several hours, allowed them to eat multiple small servings, expanding their stomachs while getting their fill. Normally, they’d only share thin portions of tiny kills like insignificant rodents or roughly cat or ferret-sized animals they managed to trap.

With still much to do, and few individuals to train. Everyone expected to be fed, yet only a scattering working. What’s more, the village members are hardly equal. Over the years, in addition to those slaughtered by roving beasts, infections from infected meat or acquiring various parasites or diseases, there weren’t many with sufficient capabilities and energy to bother training.

How these people survived this long, astounded Adam. With a little luck, he and the girls will help ensure their survival and potential growth too.

 

Adam’s biggest dilemma however, proved to be his sleeping arrangements for the night. Toq stood, glaring at him. “No. If you no agree to marry my daughters, you no stay overnight!”.

“Fine,” Adam huffed. “I’m sure someone else will take me in. If not, it’s a quiet night. I’m comfortable on my own.”

“No!” both girls’ eyes widening, considering the likelihood of anyone else laying claim to him.

“Girls, while you remain here, your father decides who stays and who doesn’t. You will see me on the morrow, since we have much to do, and you lots to learn.”

It appeared to appease them, though remaining worried about Adam more than his leaving them behind. They were plainly attached to him, but he held serious reservations of it becoming more than just an interest.

Their ages were a significant concern, as he was so much older. Even as a teen, he only had a few, mostly unsuccessful liaisons with other teens. Only gaining confidence in himself in collage, and more in the service, concentrating on experienced women during short tours with little opportunities in general quarters.

For now, he needed their youth, vitality and willingness to try new things, yet the idea of a romantic or physical relationship was well beyond his ken. But explaining it, wasn’t something he cared to venture, as it would likely crush the spirits he hoped to fuel over the coming days.

“If he goes, other families encourage him to supply them the best meat, not us,” Tiss extemporized. Adam grinned, pleased at how creatively she approached the problem, once more proving their worth as hunters, but also further challenging their roles.

Toq froze, realizing his bluff had been called, by his daughters, no less. He wanted Adam to commit, accepting one, which didn’t matter, as either would cement his role with the family. The prospect of some other woman catching his attention risked everything he was gambling on.

“If you sleep outside, I should join you,” Lor suggested, stepping forward. “If we’re to help you hunt, we may need to shelter for the night, so learning now, in the safety of the village, is wise.”

“That is something we both have to learn,” Tiss objected.

“True,” her sister countered. “It is better if we alternate, you sleep soundly here, while I brave the night alone with Adam. You then stay out with him, tomorrow.”

“Safety in number,” Toq added. “One stay awake, other sleep, all rest well.”

Adam nodded, studying them both. “It’s not a bad idea. Although for tonight, I think it best I’m by myself, as I have much to consider, dealing with an unknown land and unfamiliar dangers.”

His response pleased no one, as he slipped out before anyone could object. This time, he walked a ways away, so any peering out wouldn’t see him and be tempted to join, his fellow-humanoid’s smell may keep any meandering animals away.

Still, this was an unnecessary risk, as he surveyed his surroundings. Again, further enticing the girls was the greater risk. His choices were few. He needed to claim someone older, to curb the younger girls fascination. However, his choices there were fairly limited.

Speaking of which, he noted the native bugs, unused to his scent, generally avoided him.

Slumber didn’t come swiftly, as he gazed at the unfamiliar stars, the night still lit by a secondary sun. He considered everything he didn’t know, all the potential risks they’d face together, wondering about their likelihood of survival.

Then, there was the question of why he was here in the first place. Clearly, something extraordinary happened, transporting him this far back in time, to a planet not his own. For what purpose, he couldn’t ken. With no clear answers to either, nor for curbing the girls’ fascination. He needed answers, yet none arose, only an ever-growing list of concerns.

The girls, or any woman from this world, was another issue. Despite their similarities, they were different species, so he was unlikely to ever get anyone pregnant, so what was their hope? That he’d lend a hand, until eventually dying, either sooner or later, alone and unloved, after living an unfulfilling life on his own?

Though an additional challenge, children were also a welcome addition, as was the love of someone who cared for him—whatever their DNA structure—was oft the greatest treasure of all. He apparently loved someone here before, and it supposedly hadn’t ended badly, so …

He was definitely far from home, with no hope of returning. Again, destined to be alone, no matter how many he surrounded himself with. Could he make a home here, on a world he didn’t understand, without any common associations or mutual histories?

Still, he kept his crossbow nearby, just in case. This was a hostile, alien environment, after all, and there was no telling what he may encounter in the semi-darkness, on his own.

02: Girls, This is Survival!

Adam arose, well before anyone in the village stirred, well before the first dawn even glimmered on the horizon. One learns to sleep light in dangerous terrain behind enemy lines, and thus, even when disturbed by unanticipated sounds or unusual shadows, he could always slip back to sleep.

Which considering it, was odd. He vaguely recalled, in his now-previous life, having serious sleep issues, subject to horrifying night terrors. Oft reluctant taking anyone to bed, however close, fearing unintentionally harming them.

So how did he transition from that, to this, at the same time he was mysteriously transported to a far distant time, on a world utterly unlike his own? It didn’t make any sense, thus he suspected whoever sent him back—because someone must have planned and executed it—also did things to his mind, though what, he hadn’t a clue. Yet another thing to endless fret over, as if he didn’t have enough to worry about.

Despite the various otherworldly nocturnal sounds, he didn’t perceive any as dangerous. If anything, he’d encourage the girls to pee around their campsites if they ever stayed overnight in the wild. The smell of humanity—or at least humanoids—was an effective deterrent. Just as a wild animal marking its territory, a designation to enter at their own risk, as mothers are often the most ferocious predators when attacked. Then again, given the terrifying creatures here, why should this tiny village represent any threat whatsoever?

The other thing he noted, he could tell when he slept soundly. Opening his eyes, they burned and teared if not firmly shut or partially cracked, thus exposed for hours.

As a result, his vision was blurry, teary and he’d either rub them or wash his face to clear it. Without an adequate water supplies, washing wasn’t an option. And rubbing only worsened irritants.

Peering out their hide-curtain door, Tiss once more bettering her sister, he’d ensured their safety, having scanned for anything near enough to be a concern.

“Are you okay?” she inquired, her concern reflected in the windows into her soul, as they alternated between scanning the area and searching his own soul though the selfsame windows.

“I’ve slept outside often enough it doesn’t bother me. If anything approaches, the difference in sound awakens and alerts me. You don’t live long in my profession, if you don’t respond quickly.”

“Profession? What’s that?” She stepped out, carefully regarding him.

“It’s your job, what role you choose and what you do for others. I was not only a hunter, but a warrior, so alternated between sleeping in hostile environments and comfortably at home. Sometimes, the risks at home can be worse.”

She hesitated, eyeing him warily. “What’s a warrior? We have none here.”

“We can always hope, though it’s far from certain. A warrior is anyone who’s trained to combat enemies, whether friend or foe.”

“How can someone be both a friend and a … enemy?”

“Hasn’t anyone you ever trusted betrayed you? Hasn’t a loved one stolen something you cherished? It’s often a short distance from someone ‘borrowing’ something unasked, to someone stabbing you in the back and stealing whatever they want.”

“Remind me never to visit your land!”

“Still,” as they spoke, Tor come out to see what was keeping them, “it’s something you’ll need to learn, because when you’re out hunting, there’s no telling who, or what, may accost you.”

“Accost? Please, I cannot follow any of this!”

“You have to rely on context and trust your judgement. Consider it, if you’re dealing with enemies, what’s most likely to happen if you unreasonably trust them. It means: just because someone looks like you, they won’t stab you in the back. So even among apparent friends, we need to be on guard, watching each other’s back.”

“I prefer watching someone’s front,” Lor snickered, sotto voce.

“Hey!” he objected, turning and obliquely glancing over his shoulder at his own ass, “My backside ain’t nothing to sneeze at!” he teased.

“Why would we—?” Tiss began, before surrendering. “Are we ready?”

“Do we have any means of carrying water?” He stood, dusting himself off, again ignoring his nudity, unable to do anything about it. “One should always be cautious around unfamiliar water.”

“Why? Isn’t water just … water?” Lor posed, as he led them away along an established trail, after Tiss shook her head, indicating they wasn’t any.

“I’ll explain when we encounter new water sources, but no. Some are foul, either naturally or because something died in it upstream. In which case, drinking it may make you violently ill.”

“But we know all the trusted water near us,” Tiss reminded him.

“Unfortunately, sometimes things happen. Poisonous gases seeping into the water from below, or some beast drowns in your local watering hole. That’s why, we’ll always have someone test the water, before anyone else tries it, to ensure we won’t all get sick, allowing us to care for each other.”

“It makes sense.” She nodded, her eyes peering far away at something unseen by the others.

“The risks, when out alone in the wilderness,” he continued, his crossbow at the ready, “are too vast and varied to take needless chances. So, always back each other up and expect the unexpected.”

“Expect the … ?” Tor began, before reconsidering, so he left them to wrestle with the unfamiliar concept.

He waved, indicating the trees near them. “Note the treetops to detect the direction of the wind. While the wind is often steady, surrounding obstructions can change it, such as a wide berm or a hillside. Plus, when approaching prey, always stay downwind, to prevent them from smelling us and attacking, whether dangerous or easier kills.

“Remember, the smallest things can warn you of danger. Such as insects no longer buzzing, birds falling silent or even an unexpected scent. If you ever notice it, let us know, though do it quietly. If something disturbs the living things surrounding us, you won’t want to confirm we’re here to a predator.”

“Uh, how—?” Lor queried.

“Just tap us on the back, or even better, the hip. Or imitate a familiar bird.” He paused, catching a call he thought he could potentially imitate. “For instance,” and he tested his imitation, provoking raucous laughter from both girls. “Sorry, I’m still learning what’s familiar here.”

In response, Lor tried a different call, a long pierced clicking, so distinctive, it definitely captured your attention, while blending in with the surrounding sounds.

“You’ll have to teach me that, though I may have trouble learning it.”

“Good, it’s about time we taught you something,” Lor smugly said, her brow furrowing.

“Ah,” he said, holding his left hand up, signaling the girls to stop. Lor kept moving, bumping into him, though Tiss, having seen it before, stopped immediately and gigged, earning his side-eye.

“Shh,” he urged, his voice barely perceptible, unsure whether the sound had any meaning in this land. He turned, heading into the woods on their left, leaving the girls in his wake. They glanced at each other, before tentatively tailing him.

Not venturing far, he sighted a handy dead limb of a decent size, most of the branches already broken off. Leaping up, he caught himself, letting his dead weight hang, before pulling himself up and letting himself fall again, repeatedly jiggling it. Finally, it cracked, and letting go with his right hand, still holding it with his left, he let himself fall, steering the falling limb away from him.

Tiss cocked her head. “Kindle?”

“No, spear,” he clarified, clearing it from the underbrush and taking it back to the trail, providing sufficient room to work. “Knife?” he asked, holding out his hand. Tiss handed him hers, no one thinking to supply him his own yet. Breaking off the few remaining dead branches, he stood and examined it before lifting it to show them. “See how it’s relatively straight. It’s essential for a spear. He then sat cross-legged, leaning the branch to the side so the narrow end rested in his lap.

Again, glancing at each other, the girls imitated him. Tor succeeded, Tiss had trouble getting her one leg to properly fold under the other. Adam began slowly whittling the end of the wood, not wanting to rush and potentially damage one of the only two knives they possessed.

Only making slight cuts away from him, the girls watched intently. Being cautious took time. The birds fell silent after a few minutes, and everyone froze, yet they resumed moments later, so they relaxed, still partially on guard, ready and waiting for the … unexpected?

Satisfied, he demonstrated it to the girls. Lor reached out, touching the end. “Not so sharp as knife.”

He stood, using it as a brace while standing. “It’s not meant for cutting.” Reversing it, so the sharp end faced him, he faced Lor, holding the end facing her down. “Attack me.”

Her brow raised—obviously a universal humanoid trait—again glancing at her sister, who shrugged, nodding. No dummy, she kept her short blade low, stepping forward before raising it and thrusting it at him. Raising his crude spear, braced in the dirt between his legs, she thrust right into it, coughing as it prodded her belly.

“If I’d used the other end, you’d now be disemboweled,” he cautioned.

“Try it again,” Tiss urged, “so we can see how you do it.”

He complied, and she tried a feint, coming in from a different angle. He just shifted the spear a minimal amount and swung the end again into Lor’s advance.

“Twice disemboweled,” he teased, smirking.

“Can it do more?” Tiss asked, guessing there was more based on his usual approach, teaching multiple lessons at once. “Definitely,” instead handing it to Tor, so she could try. She took it, making a couple lunges at an imaginary foe.

He grinned. “Very good. It’s both a defensive and offensive weapon, meaning you can stop someone attacking you, and also extend your reach, attacking someone without risking getting injured.”

Tiss demanded her chance, so they did, as Adam surveyed their surroundings, always alert, which both girls appreciated. When done, she returned it, and he stepped back a few paces. “I need to get a feel for how it flies.”

“Fly? Sticks don’t—” Lor protested, before he ran a couple steps, lunged forward and the spear left his hands, sailing through the air just as predicted. He indicated where it lay. “Notice how far and how true, it travels? If you’ve cornered an animal, and don’t dare confront it, or catch an enemy unaware, you can throw this, before rushing in and finishing them off with your knives.”

“This is … terrifying,” Tiss marveled. “With this, we could venture anywhere, yet still be safe.”

“Within reason,” he cautioned. “The key is stealth, so animals won’t know you’re coming. It’s better catching enemies by surprise, rather than having a foe merely swat it aside.” When they both cocked their heads, he went and hefted it again, passing it to Tiss. “Try attacking me again.”

She again raised her brow, realizing she had the pointed end facing him, though he merely waved her in. Taking a step back, as demonstrated, she rushed him, and he almost casually swept the crude spear aside with his left. When she attempted to recover, he grabbed it, pulling her towards him and making a stabbing motion, again towards her gut. “You’ve both been eviscerated a lot today,” he teased.

Despite the more precise terms, they quickly grasped it, leaving him wondering how he understood their language and they his. It only then it occurred to him, they spoke their tongue, while he thought in English, yet spoke theirs too. It left his mind whirling, trying to imagine, not just why but how.

If, as assumed, he already knew both languages, why wouldn’t he just think and speak their language, applying the appropriate terms in theirs, rather than the overly complex English phrases.

The girls were adaptive and once he explained something, had little trouble remembering it—in whichever language he expressed it. So again, why would anyone—himself included—intentionally make things more complicated than necessary? Though again, knowing would neither help nor hurt, so was immaterial. It only further confused him, once more for no apparent reason.

“I see. It both powerful, and … tricky. Will take time to master,” Tor noted.

“You have plenty of time to practice. Keep looking for any similar, long, straight dry branches we can us, so you’ll each have one. It never hurts being prepared.”

“But won’t you—?” Lor asked, when he suddenly grasped his stomach and toppled over, throwing his arms out dramatically, sticking his tongue out and closing his eyes.

“Ah,” she acknowledged. “If something happens to you, you need us to defend both you, and us.”

He again arched his back, leaping to his feet, further astounding Lor, though Tiss had already observed it. Which also left him wondering. He was sure, given his other previous-life symptoms, how the move came so naturally to him. He was sure, he never did it as regularly there. It’s not something a normal person would do. Yet another imponderable to consider.

As they proceeded, the girls practiced with their mutual spear—swords were too complicated to consider—paused and tried it at passing birds. Neither came close, though grew more proficient. It would take time, yet they learned, and the more they did, the safer the whole village would be.

Further on, he noted a gathering of birds in one particular area. Again raising his left hand, facing away from them, he pointed out the direction they were moving. Lor raised her spear, ready to respond, as he guided them to an unknown destination.

It wasn’t an easy trek, well off the regular established path. Fighting their way through a thicket of ever more entangled vines, their bare feet sinking into the ground, mud-encased as they lifted them. Still, no one uttered a sound, Adam was proud of them.

Pointing out a likely dead branch in passing, they encountered a clearing, where a beautiful deep blue steam-fed pool the village never knew existed lay. Again raising his left hand, cautiously advancing on his own, ensuring there were no apparent dangers. He waved them forward, using the same raised left hand, they followed.

He raised his brow. “Who wants to test the water first?” The sisters glanced at each other, until Tiss stepped forward, not actually volunteering. She knelt, cupped her hand, wordlessly brought it up and took a sip. The others waited, and she nodded. “Tastes good,” she assured them.

“Actually, you can tell from the deep blue color the water is pure and undisturbed. It means it’s a natural lake, fed by underground streams, rather than just a standing pool, which is little more than your accumulated rain water. But when we’re in silent mode, never say anything aloud. Instead stick your thumb straight up, your hand in a fist. If you want to say no, do the reverse, holding your thumb down.” He demonstrated both. Lor eyed him questioningly, cocking her head. “Give your sister a few minutes to sicken and collapse first,” he suggested, laughing as she poked his side.

“The reason we looked,” he continued, waving to the side, “is because the birds, high overhead, have a better perspective. So anytime you see them heading to the same spot and circling, you’ll know there’s fresh water. Testing the water is only done when the water is questionable.”

“We’ve learned a lot today!” Tiss announced her voice strong.

“We haven’t caught or seen anything to catch,” Lor countered.

“Hunting requires patience. Opportunities come, though we need to be ready when they appear. Which is rarely, with you two clutzes!” Rather than laughing, they just stared at him. His exasperation partially roiled in his partially rolled eyes. “Sorry, I forgot who I was speaking to and switched to Yiddish. I’ll try to avoid it now.”

“What be clutzes?” Lor inquired.

“It’s a polite way to refer to someone acting foolishly, without letting on you think so. Among friends, the negative meaning is viewed as a playful tease, again without alerting others. Think of it as an inside joke.”

“Joke? And there are both inside and outside jokes?” Tiss asked. Adam shrugged. While they learned much, sometimes, it’s better not adding so many details, as it only confuses young, inexperienced students. ‘Stick to the essentials,’ he reminded himself. Also, he noted their earlier mastery of his most oft repeated phrases was fading, demonstrating they were weary and needed to rest. ‘Meanwhile, no more lessons today,’ he urged. ‘Now we rest, then focus on hunting, nothing else.’

Despite his teasing, they each took a drink, observing the previously unobserved wildlife frequenting the site, when the area suddenly fell deathly still, and all three stiffened. Adam raised his hand unnecessarily, as Lor already had her spear, prepared for his threatened anything. Adam, silently reached behind him to retrieve his crossbow, hanging from the strap around his shoulder he’d arrived with.

Suddenly, a loud crash resounded as a low snarl, in a blur of motion, something knee-high launched into the edge of the pool, and rose, dripping wet and soggy, holding another nirr in its jaws. The girls stood ready, while Adam froze, his eyes dilating.

He recognized it, a Lynx, the same as back home. “Shiiit!” he quietly swore. It stared at them, and as Lor rose, preparing for her first kill, he once more raised his left hand.

“No, leave it. It’s from my own land, my home. I have no clue how it come here, yet it’s as lost as I am. Like me, it may never survive, but given the odds against it, at least give it a chance.”

The sisters again exchanged a silent message, and as one, bowed, dipping their heads, as the lynx slowly backed up, realizing they were no longer a threat, crept back into the surrounding brush, its kill held securely in its projecting canines.

“Did it follow you?” Tiss asked, once it disappeared.

“I don’t know, though I can’t see how.” He glanced around, without a clue what he was searching for. “Something odd is afoot, but I doubt we’ll learn what it is, soon. Alert me whenever you see a creature you don’t recognize. I need to discover whether anything else from my world is here.”

While speaking, both his and the girls’ tone dropped, as they quietly spoke. ‘Another valuable lesson learned, how to move as silent as the wild silent killers or their prey,’ he noted to himself—the softest expressions.

He paused, considering the strange sighting. “The fact it showed up here, so near us, is particularly odd. If it appeared anywhere else, we’d never know. Instead, it’s here, where we can hardly miss it. It’s as if someone is sending us a message.”

Unsure how to respond, neither girl did. The master was now befuddled as they were. Nothing was as straightforward as he assumed, which meant everything was now uncertain, and therefore, not nearly as reliable.

 

Afterwards, Adam did a little exploring himself, hoping to identify some variety of fish and gasped. He recognized a familiar plant, one he never dared hope existed here, where little else did. Aside from one particular lynx.

“Damn,” he exclaimed reverently. “It’s bamboo.” Clearing his head, he turned. “Tiss, you’re getting your own spear. A much better one. Hell, we all will!”

“What babfoo?” Lor asked. Still tired, she’d gone from recognizing and correctly using, not only English terms—conveyed in her own language of course—but also correctly using contractions, which other Earth languages didn’t, to not even matching nouns with verbs. Adam decided they clearly required a longer rest, or they may not make it back.

He stepped into the deeper water, taking a short cut rather than edging all the way around to where they grew. “It’s a plant which requires a lot of water, so is only found in wet, moist climates. It’s segmented, making excellent water carriers, and an even better spear, as well as exceptionally strong gates.

“It grows very long and exceptionally straight only slightly tapering the higher it reaches, and is naturally waterproof.”

Nearing, as the girls observed, unsure what he was up to, he paused. “No, it’s not the same. It’s similar, yet different. Like everything here, the coloration is markedly different, and the segments are double joined, though longer. Which makes them both stronger and heavier too. I guess, similar worlds think alike.”

The girls once more glanced at each another. Lor raising a brow while nodding towards their benefactor, expressing her concerns.

He turned, bowing to them as they had the Lynx. “This, is not my bamboo, it is indeed your babfoo. You’ve now named a new plant species, likely to be widely used by your village.” He paused. “I think we’ll need both knives for this. It’ll take some serious work.”

 

It took a long time, as unlike his bamboo, the babfoo was exceptionally tough, allowing it to hold a much sharper point, even when carved from such irregular blades. They spent considerable time, sawing at it with each blade, slowly weakening one mid-segment very low on the exceptionally thin plant, it’s purplish-green leaves towering overhead.

Satisfied, he got the two girls behind it, pushing together, he grasped it, pulling it towards him into the pool, while kicking it hard with his bare foot—hardly his wisest move.

Using another irreplaceable dart to deepen the cut, chiseling it by hand. He waved off, loaded his crossbow and fired it directly into the base of the babfoo. The bolt pieced both sides, easily passing through, and the tall tree began gently swaying. Motioning them both into their prior positions, they resumed pushing, as he leapt, hanging from it, keeping the pressure constant.

A resounding crack pierced the surrounding forest, and the tree collapsed, slowly as first, as if considering where to fall, then swiftly, pulling the girls after him as they too fell in, soaking them all. When they broke the surface again, gasping—the pool deeper than suspected—they all laughed, before they struggled, wrestling it free and carrying it across, where they finally had room to begin hacking off the upper limbs. Adam considered how to cut the still wet tree into segments.

They needed as many as they could cut, and it would obviously be easier carrying smaller, spear-sized parcels, yet sitting amid a swampy pool—not knowing what lurked below the surface—was hardly enticing.

After studying it, they reexamined it, determining their best approach, as he encouraged them to figure these things out themselves, not just relying on his prior experiences. They again chiseled it the same way. And after retrieving his spent bolt, buried in the mud, lodged partway into a tree trunk, he held the main trunk up, braced against a leaning tree, as the girls, further out, now did as he had, hanging from it as they jiggled, hoping to force a break in the otherwise unwieldy, sturdy wood.

Making negligible progress, not yet ready to quit, there was another loud crash, as something lunged through the marsh grass surrounding them. Before they had a chance to let go and withdraw, hoping to defend themselves, the lynx landed heavily on the babfoo, it’s claws digging into the trunk. Since it was well out, the added weight factored heavily, as the trunk groaned, and cracked, precisely as they hoped.

Not knowing how to react, they stood, each facing the fierce-looking kitty, before Adam and the girls bowed respectfully to it. It scrambled onto semi-dry ground, tried unsuccessfully to shake itself dry, and wearily watched, rather than retreating to safety.

It still took time. The segment indeed smaller and thus easier to haul, yet still too long to serve as a spear. They struggled getting it back to solid ground, avoiding the well-trod path they’d previously followed. They preferred finding a new, separate path to this pool, less heavily travelled.

When they finally got it out, navigating their way through the woods and found another clearing, they carried it out to rest, when they heard movement behind them. Glancing back, Lor, supporting the base, waved behind her. There, the lynx, apparently a female based on its size, quietly passed behind them, moving silently.

Both girls turned, arching the same brow at him, as he shrugged. “I’m guessing it’s used to humans, who probably fed it, so it now sees us as kindred spirits. It’s probably a better hunter than us, so when we eventually make a kill, we’ll share it with her.”

“What do we call her?” Tiss asked.

After briefly considering it, he answered with a grin. “Puss-puss, obviously!”

“Really?” Lor challenged.

“When calling her, we’ll call ‘pussy, pussy,’ as the sound carries further.”

Rather than answering, they glanced back at Puss-puss, who now sat well back, observing them, and returned his shrug. Lor surprised and shocked Adam, when she said, “I like the sound of pussy. It’s a nice name.”

Adam laughed so hard, he nearly peed himself.

Once in a more open location, they again worked on the one long Babfoo pole, deepening the central cut repeatedly, before wedging it again against a fallen tree. Then, with Adam holding it steady, the girls bouncing up and down on it like a see-saw, further out. Puss-puss observed patiently, before growling impatiently, took a running start, launching itself into the air with a fierce warning howl, before landing on the far end, again digging her claws firmly in as the entire tree sagged, toppling the girls off. As they fell, and the extra-long tree rebounded, the familiar crack announced their success, as their pussy howled, tumbling to the ground on her feet, as they do.

“I’m pretty sure she’s coming home with us,” he warned them.

“Dad will be so pleased,” Lor said, exaggerating her emphasis, mimicking the familiar parent’s plea when facing argumentative children, again making them all laugh. Still, none dared to go back and comfort poor Puss-puss. Some things, especially with both sharp claws and teeth, are better left to their own.

 

Making the new, shorter segment into a proper spear took time, after Adam managed to down one of the many larger, heavy-beaked birds flying past. It took time finding his dart, yet when ready to give up, Pussy again rescued them by retrieving it. Spitting it out and sticking her tongue out at the strong, bitter, metallic taste.

“Yep, she’s definitely yours,” Lor assured him.

“By now, she’s as familiar with each of you as she is me. Give her time, and she’ll eat right out of your hands.” He tossed her a large chunk of raw breast meat from cleaning his kill. “Cut it up and toss her each a peace, each time a bit closer in. As she approaches, the fact you don’t react will assure her you’re unlikely to attack, as she already knows we’re more than willing to feed her indefinitely.”

“Yet another mouth to feed!” Tiss playfully lamented.

“No, another skillful hunter. Best of all, she’ll keep any rodents stealing our food at bay, warning us if anything perilous approaches. She’s a better guard than any of us.”

“That’s a sweet Pussy,” Tiss called, enjoying Adam’s reaction. “You defend our home, and we’ll fed you well.” When Adam laughed, no one bothered asking why anymore.

In the end, they ended up killing several medium-sized animals, without tackling anything too large. And again, Puss-puss helped, jumping on them from behind, while they attacked the creatures face-on, distracting them for Adam’s final killing blow.

After skinning the various animals, he rigged a fur-skin stretcher using their extra spears, where the girls carried the now abundant and varied meat, for the remaining trek home. Adam also acquired something to wear. Not large enough, but better than remaining nude indefinitely. Now they just had to properly dry it sufficiently.

 

“Hello the house!” Adam called wearily approaching their home. Various curious heads appeared, only to rear back in shock at seeing a small yet fierce-looking animal calmly strolling beside them. “We have more meat than we can eat, another hungry soul needing to eat, and a fellow hunter and village guardian. We now have four separate hunters, each of whom can hunt whenever we need food.

“We return, triumphant!” he crowed, raising his arms in victory, as Puss-Puss yowled her agreement, only mildly terrifying the watching villagers.

A very good hunt on a variety of fronts. A good day for them all. Now, there was still the question of where to lay Adam’s weary head for the night.

03: Annoying Older Sisters

Siblings, when young, are known for continually bickering. Though when they mature, they form all new relationships, yet often, something happens, triggering those old conflicts and they›ll cease communicating forever.

Yet, when one sibling loses everything and is feeling lost with nowhere to turn, they can be a welcome relief, whatever baggage they bring with them.

 

News of their success spread swiftly. Whether friends telling friends in other villages, passing strangers smelling the enticing savory scents of freshly cooked meat. Either way, people gravitated to their village. Single men searching for adventure or fortune, a few families, mostly wives and husbands, seeking a home to raise children, many likely spreading word of their burgeoning growth.

After decades of persistently diminishing numbers to hunger, accidents, infections or more notorious causes, their tiny home grew. Though hardly overnight, instead they filtered in, in drips and drabs, one or two at a time. Few brought infants for obvious reasons, as most were infertile due to their near-starvation diets.

Somehow here though, there was always food for everyone and more importantly, the most succulent the newcomers ever tasted, and from what the inhabitants claimed, safer too! Adam was still unsatisfied, they needed more, yet was unsure precisely what.

“Adam!” a familiar voice yelled, running into the village. “Adam!”

Exiting his hut, Ty sought out the caller. A new girl, a friend of his girls and nearly as young but a year or two older.

“Yeah?” he answered, unsure what would provoke such a response, before recalling Tiss and Lor, who’d ventured out earlier.

“Come quick! Tiss called. Another one came, like you, from your home, wherever it be.”

“Hold on, I’ll grab my stuff and be there in a moment.” He turned, heading back into their humble home, which Toq helped build, his girls coming to an understanding.

“Pussy, Pussy, Pussy!” he called, grinning, hearing an responding yowl and padded feet approaching from the other side of their encampment. Snatching his crossbow Adam set out, Puss-puss easily accompanying him at a steady, unhurried pace.

His brow furrowed. “What am I doing? They’re not going anywhere, just as I’m not. There’s no need to rush.” He still ran, though not quite so swiftly. His crossbow likely a bit much, yet it never hurts being prepared—as he learned multiple times in the past he couldn’t recollect, remaining a foggy, fuzzy uncertain shifting fog, steadily swirling in his mind’s inconsistent, internal breezes.

The time since his arrival hadn’t settled a thing. Details were sketchy, sometimes partially clear, the next gone completely. He hoped they’d eventually return, yet each day, the chances further diminished. At least some clue would help, whatever it may be with his plentiful unsolvable questions.

Scattered voices, asking what was happening, drifted from behind him, the villagers curious after the many recent changes. No one knowing what to expect, their entire lives in flux, shifting too with the ever fluttering, wavering wind.

Passing the trees encompassing and camouflaging their village, noting the open field beyond, he saw the cluster of figures kneeling on the ground. Tiss and Tor, their bamboo—pardon, babfoo spears—sunk into the grass beside them, Beks nearby, peering over their shoulder and another unfamiliar figure. He couldn’t see them, yet flashes of pink—not purplish—flesh revealing they weren’t natives. He put an extra emphasis in his step, hungry to meet the new arrival, hoping for some shred of familiarity again.

Approaching, he slowed to an easier, leisurely pace, Puss-puss remained several paces back; unless someone had a treat, of course. The girls stood, helping the newcomer to their feet. When they did, he froze, his mouth dropping open, the words wedged in his gullet. He recognized her! Damn, he did, though couldn’t recall who she was. Familiar, though not much else.

She stared, her eyes dilating, recognizing him. “Ty? Is that you?”

“No, no,” Lor corrected. “We tell you, this Adam is.” When excited, she oft forgot the order of certain of their newer terms.

“No,” she stepped forward. “I’d recognize Ty anywhere,” she assured them.

“Pardon me,” he said, “I, I … recognize you, yet can’t remember your name, nor anything more for that matter.”

“Ty, I’m … damn it, I can’t remember either! I recall yours, yet not my own!” she grumbled, her voice much lower and gravelly than his girls, weighed heavily with his now fuzzy memories and experiences.

“Well, she swears like you,” Tiss observed, snickering.

“Anna!” he exclaimed, a single memory arising from the mist, lifting his mental fog revealing a distant light far beyond. “Anna Dean!” Well, two interrelated fragments of the same recollection.

She turned to the girls. “He’s my brother!”

Just then, Puss-puss brushed past him, sniffing and peering cautiously at Anna. Sensing the soft touch of fur, she glanced down, shrieked and leapt back, falling on her ass and cringing before his poor kitty.

“Holy Crap!” She unsuccessfully scrambled back, her hands slipping on the slick, dew-soaked grass. “Is that a lyn, lop, lox?” she struggled to recall, her eyes rising in frightful entreaty. “They’re dangerous!”

“Who, Puss-puss?” Lor knelt, scratching their communal, oversized kitty under her chin, generated a rasping purr, along with a watchful glare of the suspicious new arrival.

“What the hell is happening?”

“Yep, they’re definitely related,” Tiss smirked. “Does everyone curse in your time?”

“I … I can’t remember,” he confessed. “It certainly seems like it.”

“Dammit, neither can I,” Anna answered, confirming her point.

Adam raised both hands, those familiar with him falling silent. “My name is Tie? Like in a race?”

“No,” insisted his supposed sibling, before her face clouded again. “It’s short for … Tile … Tylrr … TYLER!” she exclaimed triumphantly. “Tyler Dean!”

“Holy crap! I know who I frigging am!” The others laughed even louder.

“There’s no doubt they’re kin, though I’d hate meeting their parents. The ones who first taught them to swear like that.” The two faced her, their expressions cloudy. “Never mind,” Beks said, refocusing. “Come, sit, talk,” she offered.

“What happened?” they both said simultaneously, engendering further hilarity.

“Yep, they think the same thoughts too. You can’t get closer than that. Tiss and I aren’t that close.”

“I have no idea. When I appeared here, as naked as you, I couldn’t recall a thing. My thinking was clear, so I assumed it was a con… cocus—”

“Concussion!” Anna crowed. “Of course, that explains it.”

“Only, it doesn’t,” he countered. “After two weeks, I remember more each day, though the details remain sketchy, and I forget nearly as soon as I recall them.”

“Still,” Tiss’s eyes rolling skyward, “he knows more than anyone else. Breath. Let go and breath. It’s what he keeps saying. Slow down, breathe deeply and let the evil air out.” Even Anna sniggered at her awkward paraphrasing.

“Don’t encourage her,” Ty warned, enfolding Anne in his arms, as if she might vanish again.

“I guess our first human is gone, now the second has arrived. So Ty is?”

“A human/ro hybrid?” Tiss stated, proud of all she’d learned. “We’re Ros, he’s human, Puss-puss is just a pussy.”

Both Ty and his sister doubled over howling. “You taught them that shit? I can easily picture it, you were always obsessed with it when younger.”

“No, that’s her name,” Lor insisted. “Well, her name is Puss-puss, though ‘Pussy’ carries further when calling.”

“Yep, that’s certainly my brother’s humor, though it’s also accurate. So Ty,” her tone lowered, “is she a good little pussy?” her inflections emphasizing her intent.

“Not when soaked, then she’s fit to be ‘Ty’d’, a soggy, angry, hissing pussy!” he said and they lost it again, Puss-puss staring at them, unsure why everyone kept calling her with no one paying her any mind and offering no treats!

“I say we leave and maybe they talk sense when we return,” Beks suggested.

“So,” Ty stopped, pounding his chest and concentrating on his breath, “how did you find her? Did she appear in the same place?”

“Yeah,” Tiss held up a stray stay from his bolt belt which apparently detached when he first arrived, “I found this when we discovered her.”

“Yep, it’s mine all right,” he concurred. “Uh, did she bring anything with her?”

“You mean like another shooter thing?” Tor withdrawing the newest gift. “Nope, just this,” raising a black leather leg sheath he immediately recognized.

“Shit!” he again exclaimed. “A survival knife. It’s a welcome addition!”

“It came with me?” Anna glanced back. “I never noticed. You’d think it’d keep stabbing me in the side?”

“No, it was fastened to your leg,” Tiss clarified. “It came loose and fell off. You weren’t dressed when you arrived, just like … Ty.” She rolled the name around, evaluating how it tasted. “Hmm, I like it, ‘Ty’.”

“So, how the hell have you been, you little bugger? The rough-neck Marine who couldn’t stand anyone in his room at night?”

“A lot has changed,” he assured her. “I recall the PT… PTD, shit, my prior shell-shock. For whatever reason, it’s gone. What’s more, with so many to worry about, I no longer have time to obsess over myself. Being needed helped more than anything else.”

“Tell that to … damn!” Anna pulled her hair, her frustration running rampant. “Why can’t I recall your damn girlfriend’s name?”

“Girlfriend?” the other three girls sang, an off-key Greek chorus.

“Oh, sorry. Should I not have said that?” Anna glanced at him sheepishly, unsuccessfully hiding her smirk. “Stepping on anyone’s toes, am I?”

“No,” Ty’s face colored, a flush sweeping across his face and spreading down his chest. “We’ve reached an … understanding?” Each rolled their eyes.

“What?” she screeched. “You’re screwing them all?” His cheeks flushed, nearing the girl’s native complexion, glancing away.

“We wish, or rather, they do,” Beks said. “I would love to join them, but … there’s little hope of that.”

“Don’t count yourself out,” Anna’s previous harsh tone softening. “I’ll talk some sense into him, once I figure out what’s going on.”

Ty leapt in. “In short, we’re on an alien world’s stone age. I apparently knew someone from here before, way, way back in the future, though I can’t recall—”

“Torrol-ro!” Anna exclaimed, her eyes glittering in recognition. “That’s the place. You were stationed there for years.” Her statement shocked everyone, their jaws dropping.

“Terro who?” Tiss said, after several moments.

“No, no,” Anna carefully enunciating the name.

“Well, they got the ‘Ro’ right,” Beks sighed.

“You’re a real font of information!” Ty said, hugging her again. “It’s more than I’ve figured out over weeks here.”

“It’s not me,” Anna objected. “You say something, triggering associated memories.”

“Just like I recalled yours, when you couldn’t,” he confirmed.

“Hold on, you terrible host,” Tiss lectured. “Anna, you need food? Something to drink? Somewhere to lay?”

“I … I’m not sure. I’m exhausted, yet too excited to rest. I have no clue what’s happening, but I’m eager to learn whatever I can.” Her eyes glazed, as if concealed by an incoming fog of forgetfulness, invisible to anyone nearby. “I seem to recollect not seeing him for an extended time.”

Ty’s eyes dilated, leaning in, his voice softening. “I’ve only been here a couple weeks. Did something happen?”

“I’m … It’s all a blur. I just have this … sense there’s something lurking on the other side of my consciousness.”

“You best lay down, you now talking nonsense, inventing words,” Lor said, as she and her sister helped ease her back to the village, settling her in Ty’s hut, leaving him and his Pussy behind, wondering what just transpired.

 

“I must say,” Anna said, stumbling out and rubbing her eyes with both hands, “that was welcome. I fell asleep and slept as the tide of my consciousness receded.”

“It’s not as long as you think,” Ty said, setting his examination of the dull-matted Survival blade back into its leg sheath. It was constructed of the same, lightweight, largely impervious material as his crossbow. “The dual suns confuses everything.”