Page 33 of Caveman Alien's Touch

With my eyes closed, I turn around. And while I can’t see the fire, I know exactly where it is.I point to it, feeling faintly silly.

“That’s it,” Bronwen says. “Now point at sun in the sky.”

Still with my eyes closed, I immediately locate the sun and point at it. “There.”

“Good. Now fire again.”

I repeat the task, then tell her more things I can see. “There are men moving around the fire. There and there and there. There. Two there.”

“I not can see them outside the wall, but I’m sure you right. Where is Mount now?”

I can’t sense the Mount itself. Most of my surroundings are dark, but I easily find the spot where there are several living things moving around high up. “That’s the upper level. I think those are your friends.”

“I think so also,” Bronwen says with satisfaction. “And I think you haveinfred persepshn.”

I have no idea what her alien words mean. “Oh. Is it contagious?” I take my hand off my eyes.

She punches my arm lightly. “It means you can see heat without eyes. It must be this.” She reaches up to stroke my head fan. “Now close your eyes again and point at me.”

I have no problem finding Bronwen, although she quietly ducks and tiptoes around me to make it harder. I ’see’ the shape of her body, the roundness and the brighter spots that must be her face, her chest and the spot where her legs meet, which is very bright in my mind.

“There,” I tell her and keep my finger pointed right at her face, even though she tries to trick me.

“Open eyes, please. You see me without eyes. Like araidarorinfrared sensr.”

“Ah. Yes, I always thought I had someraidarin me.”

“Every hunter needraidar,” Bronwen tells me.

“It’s strange,” I ponder, pinching my head flap. “I don’t often close my eyes in the jungle, unless it’s to sleep. But I could always see in the dark.”

Bronwen nods. “You have many fine gifts, Noker.”

It almost makes me relent. She’s being so kind, accepting my otherness. What if I tell her about that secret thing I can do? Will she simply smile? Or is Shaman Melr’ax right, and I must not let anyone know because it would scare them away?

No, this is not the time. Perhaps later.

We walk outside of the gates. The dead swarm members are being burned in a new clearing, rancid oil being used to get the fire to burn as hot as possible. But it’s hardly necessary. The flying Smalls burn perfectly fine on their own.

Closer to the gates, a pyre is being prepared for the tribesmen who died.

“How many were lost?” I quietly ask Sarker’ox, who’s standing there and directing the work.

“Five men,” he replies tightly. “Including Unin’iz, who is still not found.”

“Terrible,” I sympathize. “Losing five warriors is a hard blow for any tribe. And I assume those five were among the best, since they died in battle.”

“They were brave tribesmen,” Sarker’ox agrees. “Unin’iz had just won the race when the first of the creatures reached him.”

I nod slowly. “He should have broken off the race and saved his life. I wonder what became of him.”

“Probably eaten by a Big that saw a chance to get a free meal,” Sarker’ox says heavily. “Or perhaps he was eaten by the swarm.”

“Nobody else was eaten,” I point out. “But he was the first to fall. Perhaps they tasted him and realized we’re not the kind of food they like.”

“I notice you didn’t fall into the quicksand obstacle,” Sarker’oz says, adjusting one of the logs on the pyre. “But Unin’iz was gray with mud when he came running. Did you happen to see how he got out of it?”

“I had my back to him,” I lie. “I didn’t know he fell in.”

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