Page 18 of Caveman Alien's Touch

Despite the tropical temperatures outside, a fire roars in the middle of the room, making the hut as hot as a sauna. A big pile of firewood is stacked next to it.

Shaman Melr’ax sits down heavily in a chair and wraps a thick dinosaur skin around him. “Do sit down, dear guests. I’m happy that you have finally come to the Borok village, Noker. Perhaps you can carry me home to the camp. I miss the boys and my platform.”

Noker gives me a quick glance with his yellow eyes. “Brak says that the Borok tribe needs you, brother Melr’ax. And now that the clan is moving the camp, it’s better if you stay here, where the clansbrothers won’t bother you with their work. You know how clumsy they can be.”

The old man cackles. “What Noker is really saying, tribeswoman Bronwen, is that I will never again see the Foundling camp. I’m too old and sick to leave this village, except in the form of smoke from my pyre. I even chose to miss the party last night. It was too cold out for me. But I enjoyed the sounds of the drums and the happy voices. Very well, Noker. I won’t bother you with that again. But I do really miss the boys, and I wish they would come here to see me.”

“The clansbrothers are still unsure about the tribers,” Noker says carefully. “Some wonder how welcome Foundlings really are here. Perhaps we shouldn’t bring our most vulnerable brothers to the village for now.”

The shaman pulls the skin tighter around him. “Brak has certainly been made welcome enough. But I agree that we should be cautious. While Chief Korr’ax is a remarkable man, he may not speak for all his tribesmen when he says that the Foundlings are under the tribe’s protection and must be considered friends. I suppose we shall see. The game of penk that I hear is being prepared for you will certainly help in getting to know them. It’s wonderful to see you in my hut, Bronwen! I wish you also would come to visit sometimes, despite me not being nearly as strong and handsome as young Noker. How can I help?”

His words make me a little flustered. Is it that obvious that I like looking at Noker? “I find totem wall,” I begin, having rehearsed. “On other side of the Mount. Outside village. Not is real totem wall, but is paintings.”

The shaman nods. “You’ve found wall paintings on the Mount, outside the village. Have they not been seen before?”

I draw breath to answer, then realize that I don’t know the words I need. I look at Noker, and he gets it.

“The skarp dug away dirt that covered the paintings,” he rumbles with his gravelly voice. “It laid bare a spot of white rock, like the totem wall. I think nobody has seen those paintings for a long time. Perhaps before the village was here.”

“What do they look like?” Melr’ax creaks, an interested glint in his old eyes.

“They are not like the totem wall,” Noker says and describes the things we saw.

The shaman’s eyes wander towards the altar. “Bronwen, please hand me those scrolls that the former shaman kindly left when he… departed.”

I get up and spot three huge rolls of thick dinosaur skin on the shelf above the altar, illuminated by the flickering light from the fire. Sweat is already dripping down my forehead as I hand them to the shaman.

“Thank you. Let’s see what the old shaman has left for us… not this. Or this.” He drops two scrolls to the ground and unrolls the third. “Mmm. Yes. Do you see anything here like those paintings?” He turns it around and shows it to us.

The scroll is several yards long, and Noker takes hold of the loose end to unroll it completely. There are dozens of symbols, circles, and strangely geometric figures that seem out of place on planet Xren. And one more thing that’s either a joke or decoration, but it’s not something I saw on the wall.

“That is same as wall,” I state and point to the figures.

The shaman sinks back in his chair. “The same? Are you sure?”

“That’s the one,” Noker agrees, pointing with a big finger. “And this one. And this. These circles.”

“Do you know what that is?” the shaman creaks as he taps the thick scroll with one wrinkly finger.

“I don’t,” Noker says. “It looks like a Big, but not one I’ve ever seen.”

“It’s not a Big,” Melr’ax sighs. “It’s an agent of the Darkness. Our arch enemy.”

The drawing is bright red and pretty detailed, with claws and spikes depicted well. It could be a dinosaur, like a mix of a dactyl and a raptor. But to me, it looks like something different.

“On Earth,” I pipe up, “we call it ‘dragon’.”

They both look at me. “Dragon?”

“It is word we use. Not is a real Big! Is…” I don’t know the words for fictional or myth. “Is not real.”

“The Darkness is real enough,” the shaman says. “Those figures show the arrival of an agent of Darkness to Xren. Adragon, if you will. This is Yrf, our moon. This circle here is Xren. These other symbols have meaning to us shamans, and they are hard to understand. And that,” he taps the dragon figure again, is the Darkness. It is here somewhere, come from Yrf. And it must be nearby, or the wall painting would make no sense.”

“A dragon nearby?” Noker asks. “I’ve never seen one.”

“Chances are that it is hiding under the Mount.” Melr’ax sighs. “The wall painting may have been put there by a previous tribesman to show where it is. These symbols seem to mean something like that. They are a prophecy, telling us about things that may happen.”

“But the previous shaman had scroll,” I point out. “He must known about it.”

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