Page 11 of Caveman Alien's Touch

Alba mouths a quiet “wow” to me. I know what she means — he’s unusually muscled. And for a caveman alien who’s both Foundling and half dinosaur, it seems Noker can surprise with his sophistication. It’s something we’ve been talking about since we came here — the tribesmen are nothing like the cavemen we imagined on Earth, who would communicate with only grunts and clubs. These guys may wear rags with shoulder straps, but they are really much more advanced than that, especially their language. It makes us wonder about where they really come from.

I look up at his massive, blue-streaked back. “Noker, won’t you sit down?”

5

- Noker-

“The jungle is very big,” I muse as I remain standing. The view is incredible from up here. “I never knew how big.”

“Is a big planet,” Bronwen chirps.

For some reason the view is making me unsettled. I’ve never been in a place this lofty. While the platforms we live on in the camp hang high above the ground, I’ve never been over the treetops. My world was always the constant semi-darkness of the jungle. But here, I’m so high above the trees that I can barely tell them apart.

This is Bronwen’s world. Bright andabove. It’s the triber’s world, where no misshapen or unusual man may disturb the confident mood.

I glance up. “Good place to be taken by irox.”

“We keep look around,” she assures me. “And with you here, nobody need worry. Alba, we attacked by irox! Came down to us, very screech! But Noker kill it with one slash of his spear!”

“Ohmigod,”Alba exclaims, eyes big. “Aryu olrite?”

“We fine,” Bronwen says. “Just some blood spray on us. We wash off.”

“Sometimes a spear is better than a sword,” I point out. “A spear gives better reach.”

“Much better,” Alba agrees. “Sword are only good for war, not hunt food.”

The third woman comes out of the cave. “I thought I heard a new voice. Noker, is not it?”

“It is,” I confirm. “And you must be Astrid.” I say the name slowly, wanting to get it right. This woman looks a little different from the two others. Her skin is darker, and her hair is as dark and shiny as the precious, impossibly sharp spearheads that can be made from a special black rock.

She nods. “You made trap for us.”

I shrug. “We were curious about the phantoms that kept stealing from us. If we had known who you were, we would not have tried to catch you.”

“I believe that,” Astrid says kindly. “The Foundling clan is different from tribes.”

“Very different,” says a voice.

Brak is coming up the steps to the plateau, with Piper right behind him.

“The tribe will have a party for us tonight,” my clansbrother says. “They wish to celebrate the friendship between clan and tribe, as well as honor the man who killed an irox with one thrust of his spear. I think that last one must be you, Noker.”

“I think so too,” I sigh. “I had to kill it, Brak. It was going after Bronwen, and we didn’t spot it until it was almost too late. There were no trees nearby.”

Brak laughs. “Oh, don’t worry, brother! I may be half irox, but that doesn’t mean I want my friends eaten by them. Well done, I say! It’s your first, I think.”

The alien women start talking among themselves, their bright voices tickling the ears.

“It is,” I confirm with some pride. “I never had to kill one before. You know how rarely we see them under the treetops.”

“Almost never,” Brak agrees. “The tribes rarely kill them, apparently, mostly because it’s too dangerous to even try. And not worth it for anything other than the honor and renown. I think you’re right when you say you don’t need a sword.”

“We’re Foundlings.” I shrug. “We don’t wage wars where we might need swords to kill other men. Spears are better for our use.”

“How true, brother.” He slaps my back, clearly in a good mood after seeing his wife again. I’m sure they spent the time Mating, the way they keep doing when in our camp. “War is not our way.”

“I have no more of the strong frit,” I tell him. “Thealkol. I gave it to Bronwen when she tasted a poisonous plant, hoping it would rinse the poison from her mouth.”

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