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?

Greatness is awarded none, rather it is thrust upon those desiring no part of it, foreign, unfamiliar and extremely uncomfortable, only shouldered when you have little choice in the matter, it’s always a heavy mantel, weighing you down instead of aiding you.

Al Daniels didn’t seek out adversity, instead he found himself hip deep in it, struggling to keep his head above water. His dedicated sister, Emily, sought only to aid her older brother, never seeking glory till it was unceremoniously dumped on her too, just as it was on his natural sister, whom neither had met.

However, discovering who you really are, after being lied to your entire life, is an altogether kettle of fish, often more bitterly rancid than nourishing. And uncovering your true fate, one step, one friend and one battle is a long, exhausting journey, assuming you make it at all.

 

Leaving school, they were barely out the door when someone they didn’t recognize stopped them. “Hey, you’re … Al, isn’t it?”

“Uh, yeah,” he hedged. “And you are?”

“Somebody who’s eager to join you. I know all about you and your … vessel, and I want to volunteer to be part of your crew?”

“Our vessel?” Al asked, cocking his head, taking a small step back.

“Oh, pardon me,” the guy chuckled, an off-putting, uncomfortable sound. “That’s right,” he made a zipping motion with his lips. “Your … boat. I want to help crew your, shell,” he said, recovering quickly.

Al put his arm out, sheltering his sister, Emily. Al looked the stranger up and down, only then realizing he was much older, more like twenty-three or twenty-five rather than a high-school student.

“Look, I don’t know who the fuck you think you are, but I suggest you back away, before I report you to the authorities. I have no idea what the hell you’re talking about. I’ve never done crew in my life and neither have I ever owned a boat.”

The guy glanced nervously behind him, bending lower and lowering his voice. “Hey, there’s no need to create a fuss, but,” here he partly straightened again, looking Al directly in the eyes, “I’m serious, I want to be a part of your, mission.”

Al’s voice rose, attracting the nearby students’ attention. “Back off, buddy! You’re clearly no student, I don’t know what you’re trying to sell, but we ain’t buying! You’ve got the wrong guy.”

The still unnamed adult, dressed in dirty, stained and torn jeans and a plaid work shirt, his hair unkempt and his face dirty and scuffed, either doing heavy manual labor or sleeping on the street, held both hands up, palms forward in a sign of surrender. “Hey, I’m not doing anything but—”

Al raised his voice then stepped forward, poking the guy in the chest, pressing him back up the steps towards the school, as opposed to away from it. His voice almost a shout now. “If don’t take off, stay away from the school, us and our friends and leave us alone, I’ll be forced to defend ourselves.”

“All right, I’m leaving. But this isn’t the end of this. I’ve long wanted to be a part of this, and I’m not about to lose this once-in-a-lifetime oppor—”

Al’s arm lashed out, pushing him back into the door, striking it and falling into several others. “Someone call the cops, this guy’s threatening us!”

Several of their fellow students reached for their phones, a couple actually trying to turn them on and start dialing, the others holding them up, capturing the encounter on film, which is the last thing Al wanted. He wasn’t sure why, yet he had a bad feeling about it.

He turned, shielding his sister and hurrying her away, keeping their faces forward so hopefully no one would film their faces. Luckily no one had caught him assaulting the guy, yet there was no hiding what he’d done to him. Yet as they quickly walked away, he heard others stepping in behind him and grabbing the still struggling guy.

“What the hell was he ranting about?” Em asked.

“Don’t ask, just keep moving. I want to get as far from here as possible!”

As if to better obscure himself, he peeled his shirt, leaving his arms and shoulders exposed in his usual sleeveless T-shirt.

Em noted his exposed arms, hardly surprised, and glanced back, still trying to fathom what transpired.

“Keep walking,” Al urged, his voice now low and guarded. “I’m trying to keep us from being questioned about this. I don’t want anyone else thinking I’m associated with the creep.”

Hurrying away, they cut across the grass, turning north, kitty corner to their way home. Em was now nervous, glancing rapidly at anyone nearby. Once they got a safe distance away, she turned, slugged his arm, hard!

Al rubbed his shoulder, playfully scowling. “What the hell was that for?”

“Yeah, like stripping down won’t make you look quite as scroungy as him!”

He chuckled, enjoying their usual sparring, as it was familiar and comforting, being accosted by strangers, not so much.

Turning, Al Daniels paused, glancing around again, and when she caught up with her shorter stride, she began aggressively rubbing his arm. “Hey,” he protested, “it hurts!”

“If you weren’t so busy showing off for all the cute girls by peeling off your shirt and flexing your muscles, I’d wouldn't need to.”

“Ahh, poor baby. Did your little sister hurt her humongous older brother.” They’d long teased each other like this, as Em adored her brother, knowing he could take it. If she didn’t strike him so hard, he’d likely never even notice.

She ceased rubbing his shoulder, now peering intently at it. “I never noticed this before. What is it, some sort of temporary tattoo?”

He twisted around, trying to determine what she was so concerned with. “What? I can’t even see it. It’s facing away from me, so unless I’m examining my shoulder reflected in a bathroom mirror, I’d never notice.”

Despite his objections, she wasn’t deterred, rubbing it even harder.~

His voice rose, his annoyance clear. “Hey! Are you trying to remove skin, there are easier ways of making me bleed!”

“Whoa, the huge strong stud-muffin is frightened by his diminutive little sister?” She paused before spitting into her hand and rubbing it again. “You’re right, this isn’t temporary, yet it’s an unusual color. Tattoos are shades of brown, due to the depth of the burnt skin. The newer tattoos use exotic inks, which even you aren’t stupid enough to try, as they’re often toxic, triggering liver damage or cancer.”

“Again,” he emphasized, “what are you going on about? I never put anything there. What does it look like? Is it a scuff mark or a bruise? You’re rubbing hard enough, it’s likely irritation.”

“No,” she again wet her thumb with spittle, trying again, “it’s definitely not coming off, but it’s an unnatural color. It’s what’s known as ‘true black’, rather than the dark brown or blue you most often see.” She glanced up at him. “This is not only permanent, it’s completely unnatural, as the more extravagant colors are created with a variety of dangerous substances. This is something else entirely, though I haven’t a clue what.”

“Does it matter what it is? It’s not bothering me, so why all the sudden concern. If it was something serious, someone would’ve noticed long before now.”

Her concern was attracting attention. Whereas before, the other girls were eager to stare at his bulging biceps, as usual, now they drew nearer to see what the issue, concerned rather than merely curious.

“No, it’s a black circle.” Unlike him, she focused on the arts and on the visual arts in particular. “A perfect circle, not like someone would draw or a scruff or scratch. “This is so precise, you’d need a mechanical device or computer to create it. Hold on,” she rewet her finger and tried again. “There’s a tiny white mark on it, which is even odder, it’s certainly not confetti.”

Rather than argue, he yanked his arm free and put his t-shirt, dangling from his waist till now, back on. “Leave it alone. It’ll either come off or heal on its own.”

“No, it’s more of a professional design. The lines, the detail and the colors are all too … perfect to be anything else.” She stopped, considering how to describe it. “It looks more like a detailed mechanical engineering design, maybe of a planet with a satellite flying above the surface, though what it’s supposed to convey is anyone’s guess.”

“Not if I’m wearing my shirt,” he insisted, sick of whatever game she was playing.

“What are you two doing?” Sheila, one of Em’s girlfriends inquired. “If you’re playing with your brother’s cute body, count me in.” Like most of her friends, they enjoyed teasing her about how cute her brother was, as it always irritated her. She was well aware of how attractive he was, yet didn’t appreciate admitting it.

“No, he’s got the oddest thing on his arm and I can’t figure out what it is.”

“Forget it,” Al grumbled. “The shirts officially on and the shows over. You can thank Em for that, as I was fine before she started obsessing over it.”

“Ahh,” Sheila playfully pouted, projecting her bottom lip out.

Em wasn’t chagrined. “It’s not like he won’t do it again the first chance he gets.”

“Come on,” Sheila pleased, using the best teasing voice, which he always responded to. “You know you want to show me, and frankly, I don’t care what’s on your arm, I like your arms the way God intended them.”

He chuckled, familiar with what a sucker he was for such ploys.

The other, more common ploys, such as those used by the various team couches, weren’t nearly as subtle. They were insistent, begging him to try out, offering him a premium spot, without ever seeing him play. Sure, he was larger than the other students, notably more, and his movements were smooth, natural and flowing, as he often slipped past, sidestepping others without them ever hearing him approach.

Yet he had zero interest in playing any spot. He knew many did, and they got a lot of satisfaction from it, as they too kept asking him to try out, imagining how much better they’d do, no matter whether he could throw a pass or not.

However, it held little appeal for him. Unlike the other athletes, he never desired attention, as he was confident without external validations. While everyone else was busy shuffling for acknowledgment, hanging out with the biggest, most popular or the prettiest people, he didn’t care, preferring solitude or his sister, than being annoyed by others. He often teased, “I’ll date when I’m dead, as I doubt the pretty girls would even notice, only wanting the perfect specimen, whether they’re still breathing or not.”

“All right,” she conceded, as everyone knew he would. He was a sucker for walking around half-naked, whoever was nearby to observe of no real consequence. Their opinion was immaterial, as he knew he looked good, which was the only which counted in his eyes. The others were trying to make up for some impossible to detect insecurity, thus he preferred keeping his fans at arms’ distance, close enough to admire, too far to annoy.

Again peeling off his shirt, once more tucking it into the back of his pants so it hung down almost like a dress, yet it never interfered with his movements, regardless of what he did. So, he didn’t give a shit whether it did or not.

Shelia stood back, until her eyes finally focused on the odd design on his arm, and his beautiful bulging biceps were forgotten, causing his sister to grin triumphantly, basking in the moment.

Sheila walked up, and also began rubbing it, gently, almost reverently, before she too began rubbing it vigorously.

“Hey,” he protested, again to little avail.

Sheila glanced up. “What is it?” she inquired, asking the same question.

“It’s why I’m curious. It’s too detailed and precise to be natural, though it’s anyone guess what it signifies or where it came from.”

“Well, discussing what it may or may not be or looks like or doesn’t isn’t getting us anywhere.” This time he left his shirt off, setting off at a faster pace the girls couldn’t maintain.

When the girls did catch up, they quit pressing the issue and continued till Sheila headed for her home and the two siblings continued, when another girl neither recognized approached.

“Pardon me, you don’t know me, but I felt compelled to find you.”

They both stiffened, suspicious and wary. “Don’t worry, my mother told me all about it, even describing the image to me.” He turned, indicating Al’s bared right shoulder. “Once we mature, these abilities … manifest and become apparent.” He indicated the similar image on his shoulder, showing a much smaller circle, surrounded by several other circles within it of varying thicknesses, along with a distinctive overlay marking on it.

“This indicates I’m a navigator, thus I’m able to find things, or people, easily. And since we’re naturally attracted to each other anyway, here I am.”

“What the …” Al mumbled, backing away, his eyes narrowing, his brows hooded.

“Wait,” Em asked, intrigued, “you’re familiar with these things? My brother has one of his own and we’d like to understand what it signifies.”

He blushed, his body as thin, fit and size as unique as Al’s. Paler, likely spending less time without his shirt, his skin lightly tanned yet his complexion clear and clean with no visible imperfections, though not as well built nor as tall as Al. Yet was a full head higher than either girl and only slightly shorter than Al, his muscles almost as well-developed, only less bulky. “I’m no expert, only knowing what my mother described, yet she only has a vague notion of what these are, at best.”

“Come on, bro,” Em teased, “you were dying to show off earlier, let him see if he can shed some light yours.”

Al grumbled again, peeling off his shirt, retucking it into his waistband, before turning and revealing it to him. As the other neighborhood girls neared, staring at it as intently, though from a more respectful distance. His physique was well known, as even the mothers would stare at him as he’d pass, the fathers too, though their expressions were more reserved.

“Oh wow! Yeah, she mentioned this one, as it’s the motherload. I’m unfamiliar with what it’s called, but you’re the big kahuna himself, the one in charge, but to learn more, we’ll have to ask her to explain it.”

“How do you know?” Al pressed. “What does it signify. At this point, we don’t need a full explanation, only enough to figure out what’s going on.”

“Again, according to her, once we reach our full sexual maturity—later than our normal sexual maturity—are parents are supposed to tell us what we need to be aware of. So I’m guessing you need to ask yours.”

“Really?” Al pressed. “It makes no sense, why would our mother hide something so … significant to our futures?”

He waved them further away from anyone nearby who might overhear. “Apparently, each generation goes through the same process, so our true parents know the full details. But to keep us hidden, so we can live normal lives without feeling any obligations to behave a particular way or call unnecessary attention to ourselves, our original parents found other parents to raise us until we’re ready to learn who we actually are.”

Em cocked her head. “So who are you then?”

The older guy, who hadn’t introduced herself, positively beamed. “My birth name is ólp.” He pronounced it as ‘lp’, as if it was only a single syllable with a silent o, with a distinct, unrecognizable lilt. “Well, my name here is Joe, short for Joshua.”

“Not Joseph?”

“It’s biblical. It’s the perfect cover name, who’d suspect a Joshua?”

“Uh …”

Em leaned forward. “If you could, we’re lost. Where are, uh, you and Al from?”

“oIo,” she corrected.”

“Pardon me, was that Ulo?”

He chuckled. “Stop thinking in English and listen, he already knows how to pronounce it, so stop fighting and let the words come on their own.”

Al scowled, partially rolling his eyes. “Yeah, right.” He took a moment, considering her advice. “oIo?” he tried, imitating his pronunciation perfectly, though it sounded more like a rolling oh-eye-oh, with a particular lyric quality, rolling naturally from his tongue.

“What’s it mean?” Em pressed.

“It’s a variant of ‘chosen one’, though he has a better feel for it. I’m glad we were right, our natural families have been waiting for this for a long, long time. Ages, in fact.”

“Okay, expand on that, please. If your parents know all about this, then why has it taken so long?”

“It’s … complicated. Essentially, they've all reached this stage, feeling the same things we are, though in the end, they weren’t the ones. The ones who are ready have more specific capabilities. Rather than explaining, you’ll know when it occurs.”

“I’d say your abilities are ready if you can find virtually anyone, either here or … out there.”

He shook his head, his expression resigned. “No, again there are very specific abilities the rest of us can’t do, no matter how ready we are.” He turned, holding Al’s gaze, showing them his insignia.

“See, he’s the one!” he exclaimed. “Though as I don’t share the same ability, I can’t verify it. Only his natural sister can.”

“And who is his natural sister?”

He grinned. “Again, he’ll know when you meet, before either says a thing, and the response will be so dramatic, you can’t miss it.”

“Fine,” Em quipped. “Then what does his, badge signify?”

He gave an exasperated sigh. “Think of it as a captain, someone who commands a ship, anything short of a full aircraft carrier, but it indicates our leader, who we’ve awaited for ages. Again, no one else was ready. Somehow, I’m trust he is.” He paused. “With the others, the arm brand wasn’t nearly as distinctive. Instead they were faint, indicating their necessary abilities weren’t strong enough. Still, they each tried, hoping it would work. Some did better than the others, yet no one quite ‘clicked’.”

“Then we’ll wait till she shows up,” he quipped, before mumbling, “if she does.”

Joe/ólp grinned. “It’s all you can do, still talk to your fost— human mother.”

Em and Al glanced uneasily at each other. “Yeah, we’ll definitely will, though I suspect it won’t be an easy conversation.”

“It won’t, though she’s long been preparing for it. Still, like most mothers, they raise their kids to be independent, yet once they leave home, they invariably feel somewhat lost. Still, you’ll remain for some time, and in the end, you may never leave, exactly like the others. Without confirmation, we won’t be sure.”

“What happens if one of us dies?” Al pressed, sounding hopeful.

Again, she shook her head. “In case you haven't noticed, we’re all incredibly healthy, rarely getting ill, always ready to go and if we do get injured, we all heal incredibly fast. Unnaturally so, so stay away from hospitals or clinics. You’ll survive without it, and it’ll only compromise you, calling attention to use all.” She lowered her voice. “They kept us hidden, because there are plenty who still remember and are eager to hunt, capture or kill us all.”

Al’s lip curled. “This just gets better and better!”

  

Entering their home, their palms sweaty, they glanced around, unsteady and unsure whether they were prepared for this.

“Is that you, kids?” their mother, Lola called. Rather than answer, they approached to observe her response before saying anything.

“Uh, Mom, we have a few things to discuss.” Em cautiously ventured, unwilling to meet her gaze.

Staring at them both, her face dropped and her body sagged. “So you’ve figured it out. I always knew this day was coming and you’re at the age it usually does. I was aware it was approaching, yet when it finally does, it’s like a gut punch, nevertheless.”

“It’s not so bad.” Em fidgeted, shifting uneasily between her feet, her hands seeming fumbling for something at her sides. “We’ll always think of you as our mother, and you are mine, so it’s true no matter what, yet we still need answers and were told you could explain some, if not all, of it.”

She stumbled back, grasping a chair and sinking heavily into it. “I do, as we all knew this day would come eventually.” She took a deep breath, gathering herself.

“They never told me much, by design. What’s more, my relationship to, Al’s actual parents was distant enough there were little chance of anyone easily tracing it, as we had mutual friends in college. Yet when asked, realizing the dangers you’d face, I couldn’t refuse. When Em was born—we weren’t sure we could even have a child at that point—you got along so well, it seemed you truly were ours.

“However, I always knew it was never to be.” She sighed again, carefully considering her words. “Al, your true name is Io. Apparently the name was … revealed to your mother when you were born, rather than chosen as it usually is. I’m not sure what it means, though I’d guess it’s an indication of you’re being chosen, though others have also been, yet ultimately, they weren’t the one.”

“Uh,” Em face contorted in thought, “and what was the end goal? What’s the one’s end goal? What’s their ultimate objective?”

“That wasn’t clear, at least to me, also by design. Their main worry in letting me raise you was keeping you safe and under the radar, as they were terrified whoever learned would seek you out and eliminate all of them. They never specified why, though it’s not difficult guessing the likely answers. Either they want something and not getting it, prefer eliminating it entirely. Which is likely why they never explained it. Having never been trained, I doubt I’d hold up long to torture.”

Al scowled. “No, I’d imagine not, yet the implication is they thought we’d—whoever we is—would be and needed the time to counter the threat. Again, those who came before weren’t able to, making me wonder what ultimately became of them.”

“That’s what I guessed, though I haven’t a clue. But stay safe. After acting as your mother for so long, I do love and care about your safety. So don’t take any unnecessary risks, as you won’t understand how they’ll likely retaliate. For now at least, it’s best to remain unobserved and unnoticed.”

“At least until we learn more of what’s at stake and who’s actually involved.”

“The implications were once you asked, you’d somehow be contacted, though once more …”

“Yeah, we got that, but this is more than we knew before. But, until we’re aware of who’s involved, I’m sticking around, as I’ve nowhere else to go.”

She frowned. “Which means once you do, you likely will.”

Em glanced at him, her internal doubts etched into her expression. “Well, I am your daughter, yet until I also know more, someone needs to stay near, keeping an eye on the big lug! Especially with so many people just walking up we’ve never known.”

Al turned, addressing them both. “It may be wise getting a stun gun or some bear spray, yet they’ll helped. So we should be prepared for the worst but anticipating it would be detrimental at this point.”

“Yeah, I figured it much out myself. But at least, if we’re conscious of who’s on our side, I can call for reinforcements when necessary.”

“It’s hardly encouraging for a mother, yet it’s likely the best strategy. Or maybe traveli— No, that would only attract unwanted attention. For now, you all need to remain in the shadows, as you’re not yet ready to brave the full light of day.” She paused. “Though, if something happens to Al, I’ll likely never hear anything about either of you, so I’ll lose two children, rather than merely one.”

“And if we both love him, can you blame me for sticking by him to ensure he’s safe?”

“No, I guess not. I just hope I have someone left afterwards. We began as a family of four, ending with no one is, especially difficult.”

“Still,” Em reminded her, “you’ll feel better, knowing he succeeded and survived.”

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 potentially 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 foreign to his own? It didn’t make any sense, thus he suspected whoever sent him back—because surely 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 been 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 am not following 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, doesn’t mean they won’t try to hurt you. 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 upwind, 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 notice something like that, 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. That’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.” R eversing 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 faint, 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 rainwater. 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,” Lorcountered.

“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 andswitched 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 clearly, little else did. Aside from one particular lynx, that is.

“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, its 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 past 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 seesaw, 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

It wasn’t long before news of their success spread. Whether friends telling friends in other villages, or passing strangers smelling the enticing, savory scent 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.

s

After years of continually declining numbers to hunger, accidents, infections or more notorious causes, their tiny home grew. Though it didn’t happen overnight, instead they filtered in, in drips and drabs, one or two at a time. Few brought infants, for obvious reasons, as most were largely infertile, due to their near-starvation diets.

Somehow here though, there was always food for everyone and more importantly, the most succulent the newcomers had ever tasted, and from what the inhabitants claimed, safer too! Still, Adam wasn’t satisfied. They still needed more, yet he was unsure precisely what.

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

Exiting his hut, Ty sought out the caller. It was 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 did, from your home, wherever it be.”

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

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

“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 as quickly. The crossbow may be a bit much, yet it never hurts being prepared—as he learned multiple times in the past he couldn’t recollect. It all remained a foggy, uncertain blur, steadily shifting in his mind’s inconsistent, internal breezes.

The time since his arriving hadn’t settled anything. Details were sketchy, sometimes nearly clear, the next gone completely. He hoped they’d eventually return, yet with each day, the chances further dimmed. At least some clue would help, whatever it might be, with his numerous unanswered questions.

Scattered voices, asking what was happening, drifted from behind him, the villagers curious after the many changes lately. No one now knew what to expect, their entire lives in flux, shifting too with the wind.

Passing the trees surrounding and sheltering 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 unknown 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 familiarity again.

Approaching, he slowed to an easier 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, words stuck in his throat. He recognized her! Damn, he did, though couldn’t recall who she was. Familiar, but not much else.

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

“No, no,” Lor said. “We told 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. I, I … recognize you, yet can’t remember your name, or anything more for that matter.”

“Ty, I’m … damn it, I can’t remember. I recall yours, but not my own!” she growled.

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

“Anna!” he exclaimed, a single memory lifting his mental fog, revealing the distant light far beyond. “Anna Dean!” Well, two pieces 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! Is that, a lyn, lop, lox?” she struggled to recall. “They’re dangerous!”

“Who, Puss-puss?” Lor knelt, scratching their communal, oversized kitten 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, proving her point.

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

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

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

“There’s no doubt they’re kin, though I would hate meeting their parents.” The two faced her, their expressions cloudy. “Never mind,” Beks said, getting back on topic. “Come, sit, talk,” she offered.

“What happened?” they both said simultaneously, generating 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 anything. My thinking was clear, so I assumed it was a con… cocus—”

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

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

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

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

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

“A human/ro hybrid?” Tiss said, 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.”

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

“Yep, that’s certain my brother’s humor, although it’s also accurate. So Ty, is she a good little pussy?”

“Not when dripping wet! Then she’s fit to be ‘Ty’d’, a soggy, angry pussy!” he said, and they lost it again, Puss-puss staring at them, unsure why everyone kept calling her when no one was paying her attention, and without any 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 agreed. “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 exclaimed again. “A survival knife. That’s a welcome addition!”

“It came with me?” Anna glanced back. “I never noticed. You’d think it’d keep sticking 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, ah shit, my prior shell-shock. For whatever reason, it’s now 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. “What 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, not hiding her smirk. “Stepping on anyone’s toes, am I?”

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

“What? You’re screwing them all?” His cheeks flushed, nearing the girl’s native complexion and 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 said, her previous harsh tone softening. “I’ll talk some sense into him, once I figure out what the heck is 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. “That’s the place. You were stationed there for years.” Her statement shocked everyone, their jaws falling.

“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, and it triggers associated memories.”

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

“Hold on, you terrible host,” Tiss lectured him. “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 hidden by an incoming fog of forgetfulness, no one else could see. “I seem to recollect not seeing him for an extended time.”

Ty’s eyes dilated, as he leaned 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 just 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 happened.

 

“I must say,” Anna said, stumbling out while 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. “The dual suns confuses everything.”

“Yeah, what the hell’s up with that?”

“It’s disconcerting. In later millennia, their orbits stabilized somewhat, though it’s maddening now. You can hardly sleep. One day, when they align at their aphelion point, no one will see a thing.”

“You don’t remember anything, yet you recall the duration of a … millennium, whatever the frig ‘aphelion’ is, or the orbital frequency of planets, thousands of years in the future?”

“It’s when we’re the furthest from the sun—either one—and don’t confuse knowledge with memories,” he advised. “Believe it or not, the reason Puss-puss didn’t attack, is she’s in the same situation we are. I suspect someone sent her back too, for some unknown reason. It doesn’t make any sense. Unless this is all random, though in that case, your returning wouldn’t either.”

“Except,” Anna hesitated, considering it, “I seem to recall a lynx lurking around our home. No want wanted to call Animal … whatever, fearing they’d put her down. We’d leave food out for her, which she always scarfed it up by morning.”

“Damn, Sis, you just keep revealing one detail after another. I never would have guessed any of it.”

“Again, it’s not me, you say one thing, and …”

“Yeah, I understand it. Still, the whole situation isn’t sensible. What are they afraid of us discovering, if they won’t tell us why we’re here?”

“That’s assuming there’s anyone there. We may have just been near … the nexus point? Is that right?”

“Hell if I know, but it makes sense. So, all three of us being here is just a random event. A proverbial roll of the frigging dice? So why the weapons?”

“Oh, you missed it. While you slept, the girls and I searched the field again, and found what Puss-puss dropped. Just like you, it came loose as she appeared. My crossbow was lying by my head when I appeared, though the dart belt was whole, including the clip.”

“Why not just call her what you wanted, Pussy, and be done with it. Speaking of which, why are you putting them through agony? Are you involved with anybody else, cause you seem to depend on each other, however you label it.”

He shook his head. “No, it’s because they are more open to new ideas, more adaptable to learning things. I could never teach the older folk to be warriors or hunters. Hell, before I showed up, they dug pit traps to catch mice, as nothing bigger was dumb enough to be so easily cornered.”

“Still, you don’t have anyone nearer your age to hook up with, so …” she prompted.

“Other than my girlfriend.”

“Damn, it’s right, isn’t it. I thought all three would have a stroke when I said it. Talk about foot-in-mouth disease!”

He chuckled at the familiar term he still couldn’t recall. “While I need and rely on them, they’re much too young for me.”

“Really, how many women your age are here? Those who aren’t hunched over or hobbled? This is a different period and chances are, you’ll never see, whatsherface, again. From what little I recall, she didn’t live in the same vicinity, living near her job, whatever that was.”

“You may be right, yet now, you and Pusy-Puss are here too,” he remined her.

“Well, either way, we’re here, and she’s millennia away, and you, sir, have no faster-than-light spaceship nearby.”

“Speaking of which, do you recall anything concerning … Torrol-ro? Did you ever visit me there, or why didn’t you freak out when you saw the girls? I certainly would have.”

“I don’t— They just seemed …”

“Familiar!” they both exclaimed. “Damn, we do think alike. It’s how I felt. I noted them, recognized they weren’t human and we would never be able to reproduce, yet you speak their language as naturally as I.”

“We do? I never noticed.”

“Yes. It took a while beore I noticed, but I think in English, but speak in, Rolese?” he guessed, triggering another chuckle.

“I’ll have to pay more attention. They were all speaking at once, then immediately sent for you, so I never paid much attention.”

“Trust me. I did.”

“Yeah, Mr. every-agenda-item-checked. It fits your personality to a ‘T’.”

“A ‘T’?”

“That’s the term, I’m pretty sure,” she hedged, her confidence evaporating, as most of their fleeting memories did. The only difference was, now he would remember, before she forgot.

“Anyway, back to the girls. You’re here, yakking about pussy and have more in common with them than anyone else. So pick one and get over it. Or … maybe plural marriages are acceptable for successful hunters, in which case, marry a few dozen. You’re providing for enough, each of you.”

“Their father, Toq, was eager for me to marry them, not caring who, as long as I was tied to him in some way.”

Anna rolled her eyes. “He’s definitely a catch!”

“I saw through it right away, we built my own hut, so now they can come over anytime they want, without any paternal interference.”

“You have his blessing, so go ahead and jump into bed with them asking them about any others you’re eyeing. If you don’t ask, you’ll never know.”

He snickered. “You were always a pushy bitch, ya’ know. The guys in this world are in trouble.”

“I haven’t met any yet, but I’m not expecting much. You’re a sure catch for a reason, hundreds of them in fact.”

“If you’re interested, get in line and ask,” he teased.

“You know, I just might.” She playfully nudged him, at least he hoped she was teasing, unless the transit affected more than her memories. He shivered, shoving the disturbing thought aside. He was still more worried about the girls than anything else! Hell, she was the only one his age. Not to mention, the only fellow human. Yet the thought itself was more troubling than any other.

 

He headed out to gather the girls—his girls—for their morning hunt. However, now they were supposedly taking Beks too. They did need more hunters, and chose her for some unspecified reason. She was young enough to train, so why not?

Entering their hut, she already having her sharpened babfoo spear in hand, when they all turned on him and pounced.

“So, did Anne set you straight?” Tiss asked, apparently loaded for bear, before freezing, thrown by his lack of facial hair, yet continued on unhindered. He’d spent the morning, doing an impromptu shave. Not willing to risk slicing his face with the extra sharp blade, he pulled his whiskers out, then cut away from his face to trim them, creating a scraggily mess.

“Huh? And it’s Anna, not Anne.”

“She said she would ‘have a talk’ with you about us,” Beks explained, a bit more trepidatiously than the others. Apparently she was correcting their grammar too, just as Anna did with him, years ago.

“We didn’t,” he assured them. “She said I’m here and there’s no one else, before reminding me my girlfriend is still waiting for me.”

“Wait, what?” Tiss said, unsure what transpired.

“She’s right,” he canted his head, glancing askew at them, “there’s no way either of us will ever return, though … if they sent her, who’s the next logical choice?”

“Hold on, Anne said that?”

“Again, her name is Anna, with an ‘a’ sound. But I was skeptical too, yet she insisted she was the sensible option. She’s the second closest to me, didn’t live near us, visited often and would be searching for me, so …”

“It’s not what she told us she’d say,” Lor countered, annoyed.

“As she also said, what’s done is done. Now we have some hunting and training to do.” He turned, calling, “Here, Pussy, Pussy, Pussy?” Nestling against his leg, she purring, eager for attention. “Who’s a good Pussy, you are!”

Beks glanced at the other girls. “I still don’t get why that is so funny?”

Tiss shrugged. “Neither do we, yet they both react so strongly, it’s hard not playing along.”

“Aren’t we supposed to hunt for the village, or chase some pussy?” she clarified, and despite their claims, they all laughed—at him!

“Girls, we have us something to kill, at least three very definite things!”

Tiss rolled her eyes, another annoying human habit they’d picked up. “Don’t worry, we’re not dying anytime soon, so you’re stuck with us.”

“Yeah, she said that too,” he concurred, leading them out.

“Hope you have your fancy knife, as we will need it,” Lor added, hurrying to keep up without tripping over his damn Pussy!

“So,” Ty said, once they left the clearing, beyond the trees surrounding the village and joined the usual well-trod path, “have the others caught you up on what to expect?”

“They mentioned you preferred visiting the new pond,” she said, changing the topic, “the one you haven’t killed anything at yet.”

‘Sure,’ he thought, ‘piss off the boss, why don’t cha?’ and chuckled, accepting she’d fit right in, adapting to the future, not entrenched in the past.

“That was due to what showed up, not because there wasn’t game there. The general idea is not to kill near the animals’ watering holes, but catching them on the trail or the woods as they’re coming and going. We want them to return, not leaving the region for good.”

“I can see that,” she conceded. “It makes sense.”

“The right thing usually does, as long as you’re willing to listen, and adapt, which conversely, is not so easy.”

“So, if I’m not crossing any lines,” Ty rolled his eyes at the term, knowing where she’d adopted it from, “what’s up with your sister? It seems she has everyone upset. Is she, uh, what’s the expression, ‘stirring the honey pot’ or something?”

He chuckled again. “That’s the correct saying, though I never imagined it being used here. And I’d rather you ask, than afraid to speak your mind. Asking is fine, not telling me I’m not wearing any clothes, is not!”

“Eh …” she said, nervous about pursuing the thought.

“I know, I know. I spent a long time, walking around with my dick flappin’ in the breeze, even hunting, where certain hanging things tend to get scratched and irritated. Although I eventually found something to wear that fits, so it’s settled. It still needs to be dried and tied.”

“It seems everyone from your land is tall, and the women also seem to have huge bosoms too!”

He sighed, chuckling again. “You can say breasts. She’s my sister, but she’s heard everything you have. But that’s what happens when females get older, their breasts grow too, even without having babies. To be honest, most sat around their living room staring at an ‘idiot box’, eating all the wrong things and never doing much—as we are. Thus, they became extremely overweight, which I’m glad to leave behind, even if I left many friends too.

“Every change has positives and minuses, yet you can’t spend your time wishing for the old days, which are dead and gone. You adapt and move on, dealing with life on its own terms.”

“You had to get him started, didn’t you?” Tiss groused. “What did we tell you, let him talk himself out, and whatever nonsense he claims, you’ll learn something valuable you won’t anywhere else.”

“Sorry, it’s why I asked if he minded.”

Ty chuckled again, enjoying their repartee. “If you start by asking, ‘I hope this doesn’t offend anyone’, it usually offends everyone. If they don’t, it won’t upset won’t upset anyone.”

He turned to the rest. “You’re right, it’s best not poking the bear.” No one responded, until Lor broke, sheepishly glanced at the others. “Uh, what’s that?”

“A huge hairy things with sharp claws and powerful jaws, though nowhere as scary as the creatures here.”

“He says to ask questions,” Beks said in sotto voce, “then he reacts like that!”

“Live and learn,” he said.

“See, that also does not mean anything,” she said, contralto voce.

They continued, not speaking another couple of minutes, when Beks again couldn’t constrain herself.

“I don’t get it. Why are all the cat names so funny? Your reactions are fun, but I don’t understand why.”

“It’s what’s known as a ‘double entendre’, meaning it has two separate and distinct meanings, the second is usually sexual in nature.”

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