Planet Of No Return

6: Alien Encounter

This was a time for thought, not action. As soon as Brion saw the cleanly cut flesh he knew that. With deliberate motions he slipped his knife back into its sheath on his hip, then just as slowly lowered himself to a sitting position on the ground. Looking out towards the lake like this he was not obviously watching the grove of trees — but he could see it clearly out of the corner of his eyes. The only motion was the nodding of the grass before the wind, the same wind that was ruffling the surface of the water.

Intelligent creatures had killed the creature at his side. Men, or aliens, with knives, who had butchered the body then fled with the meat. Whoever they were must have seen him coming and hurried to the safety of the trees. They were probably there now, watching him. He relaxed his muscles and tried to reach out and make contact with them, but his empathetic sense was a crude tool at any distance; he was aware of people’s emotions when they were close by, but the sensitivity faded quickly as they moved away. He concentrated now, reaching out. Something, a living creature. That was all he could tell about it. It was so dimly felt that it could be anything, a human being — or perhaps an alien, or even the simple awareness of an animal like the one lying dead before him. It was calm sensation, whatever it was; perhaps it would be easier to read if it were made clearer and stronger.

Without warning Brion suddenly sprang high into the air, shrieking wildly as he jumped. Dropping back to the ground he began to shuffle around the animal’s body, shouting aloud as he did. He made one complete circle then eased himself down to a sitting position on the ground again, smiling cheerfully to himself.

Oh yes, there was something out there all right. And not an alien life form or one of the local reptiles. The response had been that of a human being — one who had been very startled when Brion had suddenly lept up and screamed aloud. There was a single person there, a man, watching him, unseen behind the concealing foliage of the trees. Possessed by fear. That was the emotion he had projected at the sudden sound. He was afraid of Brion.

Despite his overriding fear, the man had to be contacted. But just how could this be accomplished? Brion’s eyes were focused on the carcass beside him. This might provide a way. As unappetizing as the flesh of this creature appeared, with its thick green blood, it must be edible by human beings. Because the hiding man was human, that fact was as unarguable as his human emotions. He had slaughtered the animal for food, but had fled with only a single limb when Brion had appeared. A friendly gesture of some kind was in order.

Brion carved through the hip joint of the remaining rear leg, severing it cleanly from the body. He picked it up and carried it extended before him so it could be clearly seen, then he walked slowly towards the trees. Being careful not to move in the direction of the hidden observer. When he reached the first tree a single slash severed a thick branch and, then, after making an incision behind the leg tendon, he impaled the joint on its end.

Step one. If the watcher took the meat it meant they had opened communication of a sort. This would be a good moment to refill his waterbottle. The animals had trodden paths to the lakeside and he followed them to the shore, pushing his way out through the reeds until the water reached his waist. It was clear and unmuddied here and, after tasting it, he filled the bottle. The sun was nearing the horizon when he returned. A flock of scavenging flying lizards was perched on the corpse, tearing at the flesh with their needle-fanged jaws. They reluctantly flapped off, screaming shrilly, when he came close. The sun was low on the horizon and he had to shield his eyes with his hand as he looked into it. The haunch of meat was gone — but the hidden watcher was still there. Now all that Brion could do was wait. But not near the dead animal. That would not be too wise. The scavengers still circled above him, shrieking continuously, and would surely draw other and larger scavengers to the kill. The trees should offer him some protection. He went slowly to the end of the copse furthest from the man who was watching him, his movements clear in the failing light.

As night fell Brion was aware of the man moving further away among the trees, until the sensation of his presence was just the slightest touch at the farthermost fringe of his empathetic senses. He obviously did not want to be surprised during the night. Neither did Brion. He smoothed out the fallen leaves next to the bole of the largest tree, then fell asleep with the knife clasped firmly in his hand. It was a light sleep during which he was aware always of his surrounding. He woke once, peering into the darkness, as some night creature crept by. It sensed his presence and gave him a wide berth. Nothing else disturbed him during the night and he awoke, refreshed, at the first light of dawn.

The hunter was still here — and still watching. Brion could feel the surge of emotion from the man when Brion moved out into the plain away from the trees. There was still fear there — but curiosity as well. Brion knew that he would have to control his impatience. The next step was up to the hidden observer.

Waiting was not easy to do. By noon Brion was bored with simply sitting still and hoping for something to happen. Herds of the grazing creatures moved by in the distance, the sun rose higher into the cloudless sky — and nothing changed. He ate some of his rations at midday, washing them down with lake water. To control his impatience he tried composing a poem about the landscape, but found this even more boring than the waiting. Then he played mental chess with himself, but lost track of black’s twentieth move and abandoned this effort as well. By mid afternoon he had had enough. The other man was apparently happy just to lie in hiding and watch him. That was going to change. Brion stood and stretched, then turned and began to walk slowly in the other’s direction.

There was a surge of fear so sharp and clear that Brion could pick out the exact hiding place of the man, behind the trunk of a large fallen tree. He stopped instantly and raised his empty hands over his head. The sensation of wild panic faded but the fear remained, completely wiping out the curiosity that had kept the man hiding and watching all day. There were mixed emotions now, for greed was there behind the fear as well. Brion took a step closer, and when he did fear completely overwhelmed greed — the man fled. When Brion walked over to his hiding place he understood what the conflicting emotions had meant. The two haunches of meat had been left behind. Too heavy to carry, thrown aside in panic. Brion bent and picked them up, one in each hand, carrying them easily on his broad shoulders as he moved out on the man’s trail.

It was soon obvious that the man was heading for the thicker forest and the hills beyond. When Brion was sure of his direction he made his way out onto the plain where he could move faster, running along beside the trees to get ahead of the other man. The going was easier this way, and even though he was burdened by the meat he easily outreached the other man. Then cut back into the trees ahead of him. There was a game trail here through the thickening forest and the other was still coming in this direction, perhaps along the trail. It was a good place to wait. Brion put down his burden, scarcely breathing hard, and waited, facing back down the trail. Aware of the other’s approach as well as his fear and growing fatigue.

They saw each other at the same instant and the sharp spurt of horror sent the hunter’s arm forward in sudden reflex. Brion had only a glimpse of the spear coming towards him as he hurled himself to one side. The point buried itself in the tree trunk beside him. The hunter crouched and drew his knife as Brion climbed slowly to his feet. Without taking his eye from the other, Brion reached out and pulled the spear free and let it drop to the ground. Then, ever so slowly, he drew his own knife and dropped it beside the spear. Waves of fright were still radiating from the other man. Brion waited in silence until the quick rush of fear had lessened before he spoke in what he hoped was a reassuring voice.

“I mean you no harm. Here is my knife — and here is the meat. Let us be friends.”

The other could not understand him, but the calm tone of Brion’s voice seemed to be having some effect. Brion pointed to the meat and the weapons, still speaking reassuredly, then moved aside off the path, but still making sure the man could see him. When he was a good dozen yards away he stopped and sat down with his back to a tree, waiting for the other to move. Savouring the radiated emotions as the panic slowly ebbed away to be partially replaced by curiosity. The man took one cautious step forward, then another, coming out into the sunlight. They looked at each other with mutual curiosity.

The hunter was human enough, but scrawny and short, scarcely up to Brion’s shoulder. His long hair was matted; filthy strands of it were hanging lankly over his face. He was dressed in lizard skins, with more of the skins bound crudely about his feet. As he came forward he looked at Brion’s clothes and boots with awe, his eyes wide and his mouth hanging loosely open. Brion smiled and made encouraging noises as the other bent over the weapons. He tried not to reveal his feelings when he saw his knife in the man’s hand. He was turning it over and over, wondering at it, reacting with a spurt of fear when the sharp-edged weapon cut his thumb. He put it into his mouth and sucked on it, the gesture strangely childlike. Only after the pain and burst of fear had ebbed away did he bend down and use the knife to saw off a rough chunk of meat from one of the haunches.

Brion felt a happy throb of success when the hunter slowly extended the raw gobbet of flesh in his direction. He nodded and smiled in return and started slowly forward, his hand outstretched. As he came close fear spurted again and the man dropped the meat and retreated a few paces. Brion stopped at once and waited patiently until the other had calmed down. Only then did he advance, step by careful step, to bend and pick up the meat. He chewed a bit — it was loathsome — but he smiled and rubbed his stomach, making happy noises.

Most of the fear was gone now and the hunter was smiling as well, first tentatively, then broadly, rubbing his stomach just as Brion had done, imitating the sounds he had made at the same time.

Contact had been established at last.