Caveman Alien’s Trick Read online

  “Doesn’t make a difference, anyway,” Tamara says and squeezes my wrist. “To us, this is planet Xren, and the sun here is just ‘this weird-ass alien sun here’. We’re far from home. Seven light years or fifty – does it matter?”

  We sit and chat for a good while, and as I feel the warmth from the booze spread through my body I feel good about coming out and attending the party. It’s a great group of girls. This brutal planet is like a fire. It cleanses the bullshit away from every interaction and leaves no room for pretense. It’s not a bad life here, probably. Certainly better than being kept hostage by Troga the dragon.

  The cavemen from other tribes keep throwing glances at me, and then they make some alien comment and chuckle like any group of guys in their twenties would. If they were drunk and had never seen girls before. I understand pretty much everything they say. Cavemanese isn’t actually that hard to learn, and Caroline has taught us the basic things to understand. It’s a very intuitive language, and most of the guesses you make about it are usually correct. I’m doing remarkably well, she says. Which is funny, because I have no intention of talking to cavemen much.

  The comments and jokes the outtriber cavemen are making aren’t actually that naughty. And now that I’ve got a buzz on, I don’t mind their attention as much.

  But I’m only human. So of course, what I notice the most is the one guy that never looks at me.

  He’s sitting maybe twenty feet away. He’s the only caveman I’ve seen with purple stripes, and that must mean he’s the only man from his tribe here now, because members of one tribe usually have the same color stripes.

  Still, he seems to be important, somehow. He makes few comments, and they’re short and dry, but it always draws a lot of laughter from the other cavemen around him.

  He’s muscular, like all the other cavemen here. But he has a less massive build than most of them. He’s a little leaner, it seems to me. Of course, I have a good buzz on and I’m seeing him in the light of a flickering fire, so I might be wrong. Though, I don’t think I’m wrong about the bulge in his leathery pants.

  The caveman next to him leans over. “You have an admirer, Rax’tar.” He talks so loudly that he obviously wants me to hear it.

  I flinch as I realize I’ve been staring at him without noticing.

  “I know,” the man rumbles without looking up from the fire. “She finds me fascinating. Well, me or the rock I’m sitting on. I think it must be the rock. Hard things must be extremely alien to someone as soft as her.”

  The other cavemen chuckle, but I don’t get the joke. Still, to my irritation, I feel my cheeks heat up. I think that was maybe a pretty naughty thing he just said.

  Whatever. I was never attracted to try-hard clowns. And an alien try-hard clown?

  I adjust my position so my back is to the guy and reach out my now empty cup. “Hey, Tamara. Any chance for a refill of that chlorine booze?”

  2

  - Rax’tar -

  She turns her back, her face blushing. It’s an unspeakably fetching gesture. It’s so alien. Or so female. I don’t really know which. But I feel it might be female.

  I got her to react, anyway. For some reason that feels pretty good. She noticed me.

  I do my best not to look at her, but I have a wide field of vision and I know exactly what she looks like. She is soft, and I think that is also more a female thing than an alien thing. At least, she looks soft. Round and delicate. Her hair is long and dark and arranged in a highly attractive ball of sorts at the top of her head. Clearly, a lot of work has gone into it, and she must have quite long hair for it to be possible to do that. She’s wearing an outfit that looks so much like the skin of a Big that it can hardly be anything else. They’re short pants and a vest-like upper garment over a smooth layer of a different kind of leather. It disguises her shape, but not enough to hide the fact that it’s an extremely attractive one.

  “She’s lost interest,” I sigh theatrically, eager to have her look at me again. But she’s now in conversation with her fellow alien females.

  “But you have not,” the man next to me observes. “And I don’t blame you. The aliens are very… interesting.”

  “That is not the word I would use,” I counter. “Strange, certainly. Otherworldly, yes. Fascinating. Attractive. Alluring. Distracting. Small. Dangerous. But interesting? Too weak, warrior. Too weak.”

  “Dangerous?” another man chuckles. “These little things? Why, they have no swords on them. No weapons at all that I can see. And as you yourself pointed out, they do appear soft.”

  “Yes,” I agree. “Yet here they are. In this deadly jungle. Small and soft and delicate. With thin voices, elegant movements, and no swords. And they are obviously thriving. Mark my words, warriors: they are the most dangerous creatures any of us have ever seen.”

  The man scoffs at my warning. “Dangerous? I could run my blade through half of them before anyone could react.”

  “Then do so,” I challenge him.

  He makes no move.

  “No?” I continue. “The very idea makes you feel sick? Harming these gentle things is an unthinkable act? You’d risk your life to protect them from harm? I feel the same impulse, warrior. And it is unsettling.”

  “Of course, I will not attack them unprovoked. I am a guest in their village. They’re not my enemies.”

  “Of course,” I agree. “And even if they were, can you say you would attack them as easily as you would a tribe of men?”

  There’s no reply.

  “They are dangerous,” I repeat. “Immensely so. They can reach inside you and control you just by existing. Am I right, Jax’zan?”

  The large warrior with the red stripes looks at me thoughtfully. He has been living with these aliens for a long time and is even married to one of them. “I don’t see them as dangerous, warrior Rax’tan. They won’t kill you. But yes, they will own your soul for as long as you live, changing your life in ways you had never thought possible. And you will love every moment of it. Every heartbeat feels like a blessing from the Ancestors. Is that what you call danger?”

  “Absolutely,” I state. “What is life without freedom? What is life if lived in thrall to aliens, no matter how alluring?”

  “I have my freedom,” Jax’zan calmly replies. “I am much more free now than I ever was when I lived with my tribe. I can do what I want. There’s a fullness to my life now I had never tasted before I met Sophia. I am complete.”

  I let his words hang in the air for a little moment. Then I chuckle. “See what I mean? They are the most dangerous creature in all the jungle. They will catch you, use you, and even make you like it.”

  “But you can Mate with them?” a recent arrival asks with youthful eagerness. “That is true, at least?”

  “It is true,” the man called Ar’ox confirms. “While much of what the shamans have told you about women was not actually true, that part is.”

  The young man looks over at the females. “Will they let you do it? I mean, even if you’re not married to one?”

  The resident men exchange glances.

  “It depends,” Jax’zan finally says. “The married ones will only Mate with their husband, of course.”

  “Are they all married?” the youngster persists with excitement in his voice.

  “Not all.”

  I glance back at the one that caught my interest. She has turned back and I can now study her face from the side. She’s very alien, and the proportions are all wrong. She has no fangs, her chin is more softly rounded than any I have seen before, and her cheeks have a luxurious fullness to them. And further down… My crotch twitches uncontrollably. Further down she’s very enticing, even in the baggy fabric she’s draped in.

  Then for a split second, she turns her head and is looking straight at me. The darkness of her eyes gives me a jolt I can feel far out in my fingertips.

  She turns away again, and I’m rattled. Dangerous, indeed.

  “How do I marry one?” The young
man appears determined, and right now I’d like to hear the answer to that question, myself.

  “She first has to like you,” Ar’ox says, clearly not too interested in this topic. “There are trials. Grave ones, although you don’t know it until later. We were all close to death before our woman would accept us. Even though the circumstances were always different. Some fought irox, some fought dragons. We all bled and got ready to join our Ancestors in the glory of the hereafter. You must be willing to die for your woman before she will marry you.”

  “First, she will take you close to death, and then she will own your soul forever, as Jax’zan said,” I sum up. “And still some here claim these females are not dangerous?”

  “While it may seem that they are ruthless, the way we tell it,” Jax’zan says, “the truth is different. Of course, they don’t mean to bring us close to death or subject us to incredible dangers. It is simply the way things are. They need us to protect them.”

  I make the most innocent face I can. “And they make you protect them, even if you might die?”

  “They don’t make you do it,” Ar’ox explains. “It is rather that you want to. It is your choice.”

  “It is your choice,” I repeat with mock eagerness. “And you always do it. You never choose to do otherwise.”

  “It is still a choice,” the resident warrior called Trak’zor says. “Indeed once, before I was married to her, my Aurora was pulled down into water by a Big in a lake. I could choose to not help her. I was free to make that choice.”

  “And did you choose to fight the Big in the lake?” I ask, making my eyes big like a small boy being told the tale of an exciting hunt.

  “Yes.”

  “And it brought you close to death?”

  “Well… yes.”

  “And as a reward, the female allowed you to vow to be hers forever.”

  Trak’zor smiles happily. “And she mine.”

  I return his happy smile. “And she yours. Provided you protect her with your life and hunt for her and make sure she’s comfortable. Until the day you die.”

  “Yes, but there is more to it.”

  “There is?”

  “There is. For instance, she has given birth to a child.”

  “And what exactly does that have to do with you?”

  “It is my child also.”

  “Ah! A strong son.”

  “A daughter. A female baby.”

  I scratch my chin, pretending to think deeply. “So, the female has given birth to a female baby. Again: what exactly does that have to do with you?”

  He frowns. “It is my child also.”

  “The alien female child born by an alien female is yours as well? Are you sure?”

  “That is what we’re told.”

  “That is what you’re told by the alien females who have made you promise to protect them until you die?”

  He glances at the other resident men of this strange village. “It is.”

  I smile at him again. “Have you seen the Lifegivers that the tribes have?”

  “Of course.”

  “One man gives his seed into one, and a boy is born. Of course, it is a boy, because his sire is a man. Here, a female child is born from a female. In what sense is that female baby yours? When you are a male?”

  “Well, the baby is a mix of mother and father.”

  “A mix? Half boy and half female child?”

  “My daughter is all female.”

  “Ah. Have any of the married men had his wife give birth to a boy?”

  He looks away. “No.”

  “Only female babies are born from the alien females here?”

  “So far. But it is said that it is a coincidence.”

  I nod gravely. “Said by whom?”

  “By our wives.”

  “Said by the alien females you keep protecting and feeding for no apparent reward?”

  The resident warriors frown at each other.

  “Yes,” Jax’zan admits. “Of course, there is the reward of Mating.”

  I raise my eyebrows and let his words hang in the air before I respond.

  “Then I’m sure it’s absolutely fine.”

  I turn away and stop torturing them. I don’t have strong feelings about any of this. But it is too noticeable that these men have been fundamentally changed by their new females. And not necessarily for the better. They have become part alien.

  Some of the women start chanting together, their bright voices made somewhat unsteady and shrill by the alcoholic drinks they’ve been downing. It’s not an unpleasant sound, and there’s an alien melody to it. ‘Neve main ahfaain somwon laik yuuuuu…’

  It makes the atmosphere in this village very alien and still completely familiar. This village is much like the home of any tribe in the jungle. There’s a cave, furs, food with a familiar taste, the smells of the jungle and the smoke from the common fire, the occasional sounds from a Small or Big out in the woods. There are forges and small sheds and patches of red or green herbs. The grove of salen trees reminds me of a village I saw many years ago.

  There are alien influences, too. The house in the middle of the village is very square and appears to have been built from many rocks of the exact same shape. The mewling of the alien babies sounds somehow different from any infants I’ve heard before. And of course, the women themselves set this tribe apart from any other. They’re like beings straight out of the old myths.

  But there’s apparently not as much to learn here as I thought there would be. The women are clearly alien, as well as their female babies. Whatever utility they have is limited to the place they dwell. They are not creatures of the woods like I am.

  I came here because the rumors of this tribe were too persistent to ignore. Women on Xren! The idea was beyond sensational. And then there turns out to be little of use to me here. The dragon tales that the men regaled us with earlier today don’t concern me in the least. The wars between aliens is not my problem at all. They want to fight alien creatures, they can do it themselves.

  I’m surprised by how many men from other tribes actually do see it as their problem. There are many of them sitting around this huge fire. Probably eighty or a hundred, training to slay dragons.

  Well, that’s not for me. Training or slaying.

  The fire is slowly burning lower, and nobody is putting more wood on it. The chanting goes on, and now one of the women is banging a stick on a hollowed log, making a resonant sound in a curiously attractive beat with the voices.

  Of course, the women here are attractive. I don’t blame the warriors who marry them. The females are small and round and have a certain childlike quality to them, although I sense they are quite adult under the surface. And different. Certainly, they awaken a need to protect, much like a baby right out of a Lifegiver.

  They all have that effect. But I find myself glancing only at the woman whose attention I caught, the one that turned away. I hope I didn’t offend her.

  Or at least, I hope I didn’t offend her too deeply.

  What would it be like to have her to myself? Get to know her? Feel her warmth close to me? Explore her body?

  Fueled by the strong drink I’ve had, suddenly the need is almost overpowering.

  I shake my head in wonder. There must be magic at work here. She can make me want to protect and support her even without looking at me, and any thoughts of my own freedom becomes less important in my mind.

  Yes, these alien females are dangerous. They will make you want to give up your life just to have them near you.

  And this one… there’s something about her. She’s different. She never joins in the chants with the other ones. She never laughs, only smiles a little. Her conversations with the other aliens are short, and she keeps looking up to the night sky. As if she wants to fly away.

  She is unhappy. It’s as clear as day.

  “Warrior Rax’tar,” Jax’zan calls to me. “Can we count on your support against the dragons? You are most welcome to stay
and train for it. It will be the most important thing any of us have ever done.”

  I send him a pale smile that can mean anything. “It does sound important.” Important to you.

  “Perhaps you will fetch more men from your tribe? The more, the better.”

  “Perhaps.”

  “We must vanquish the dragons when they come,” Ar’ox says. “If not, they will murder us all.”

  I nod agreeably. “Then something should be done.” But not by me.

  They take my response as positive, I’m sure. But there’s no way I’ll stay here to become part of an army. I have my freedom, and I fully intend to keep it.

  The woman stands up in a movement that’s almost painfully attractive, then puts her hand to her mouth to stifle a yawn. It is a very human thing for an alien to do. Perhaps they’re not all that different after all.

  She walks away from the fire along with another woman, making for the strange house. The swivel of her hips and the rhythmic tightening of her smooth, slender calves makes my crotch swell.

  Then my breath catches in my throat.

  Right above the calves, behind the knee, every man in the world has two strong, thick sinews.

  But she, this alien woman...

  I swallow in a dry throat.

  She has two small dimples.

  It’s the most amazing thing I’ve ever seen. Her thighs are soft enough to allow for that, even when she walks. The dimples flex and tighten with each step she takes, but they always remain. It is an exquisitely female feature.

  I stare at her until she enters the house, my chest aching with a sudden longing.

  I want that in my life.

  No.

  I need it.

  An idea occurs to me.

  I clear my throat. “I wonder, warriors, if you could help me with something…”