- Emilia -

“Emilia happy?”

I grin and place one hand on Ar'ox's strong thigh under the table. “Emilia very, very happy.”

He smirks back, and it's a very fetching look for him. I can't get enough of looking at him. He's an alien, sure. But sometimes he seems more human than any guy I've ever met on Earth.

Everyone in the village must be here, under the starry night sky. The air is balmy, and hundreds of torches are burning merrily all around. It's like I'm back on Earth, thousands of years ago.

I've never seen a longer table, and there are fourteen more just like it. The tribesmen must have brought out all the foods they had, and it's just enough to make the offerings look ample. Most of it is meat, which I only eat reluctantly, but there's enough vegetables and berries to fill me up just fine.

It's a celebration in honor of Women, and the Woman Messenger, which they think is me. Yep, at some time I have to have a heartfelt conversation with Ar'ox about that. I'm not sure how serious they are about it. I'm a mythical creature, fine. But do they expect me to perform miracles or something?

Well, I'll do my best to bring women to their village. But not the way they think. I'll bring my own friends, not the tribe's women that were probably taken by the same evil little aliens that abducted us.

If those filthy Plood come near me again, at least now I can defend myself. In the pocket in my dress, there's another weapon now. It's a small and extremely sharp knife that Ar'ox gave to me just before we went to the party. It was still warm from his forge, and it fit my hand so perfectly I know he made it especially for me. To him it was probably a simple act – everyone needs a knife, and I didn't have one. For me, it was more. It showed me that he accepts me as a capable person. And maybe as a member of his tribe.

Gur'ex is here, sitting nearby, and even that shaman guy who hated me from the first moment has deigned to attend, talking stiffly to the tribesmen around him, but making sure not to eat anything and to look so prim that it would be funny, if he didn't plainly wield a lot of power among these guys. I try not to look in his direction and I make sure not to meet his gaze.

“Ar'ox,” the tribesman on the other side of me calls out, “tell us again about how you found the Messenger!”

Ar'ox laughs, and many of the men close by go quiet in expectation. “It would be my pleasure.”

Not all of them have heard the story. But I have, so I tune it out as much as I can.

The party is loud, and the tribesmen are pretty boisterous. Or as boisterous as anyone can be without any alcohol. It's one of the things they don't have. That seems weird to me, because if I remember my reading correctly, even primitive civilizations on Earth had some kind of simple booze.

But here, there's none. Maybe they don't have the right kind of yeast. Or yeast at all, maybe.

That's actually fine with me. I've enjoyed this day a lot, and getting drunk now wouldn't change it.

It's a clear night. I lean back and look up at the stars. For all I know I could be looking right at the Sun and the Earth. Right now, I don't miss any of them that much.

But I miss the girls. I really hope they're okay. The more I think about it, the more certain I am that they're fine. There's no way Jax'zan wouldn't have heard that bobont stampede well ahead of time. There's no way Delyah wouldn't have thought of something brilliant to get everyone away before they came there.

What are they doing right now? It's dark, so they're inside the cave, sitting around the fire.

Sophia and Jax'zan are sitting next to each other, but not so close that it's unseemly. They both know that the other girls also wish they had a cool guy to sit next to, and they make sure not to rub their happiness in anyone's face. Jax'zan will be mostly quiet, and Sophia will be calmly chatting and laughing with eyes that shine in the firelight.

Heidi will be doing something with her hands, probably. Repairing something and chatting at the same time, making sharp little observations that make everyone else just bend over with laughter. Except Jax'zan, who will only smile at the alien joke he can't have any hope of understanding.

Caroline will be mostly quiet and maybe the others think she's sad, but then she will suddenly laugh uncontrollably at a joke and push her long, dirty blond hair behind both ears at the same time.

Delyah will be studying the wall paintings and making notes on her piece of slate for a while, and then she'll sigh and sit down and make a smart comment about something that someone said an hour before. She's not the most conventional girl, but the things she says are always so good that it pays to listen.

And Aurora ... I feel a sharp barb in my heart when I think of her. She must feel terrible. I left in a huff after what she said, and now she must think I'm dead. No, she must feel worse than terrible – she must be totally crushed, thinking she sent me to my death. What she said wasn't even that bad. I actually totally agree with her.

It's something I've repressed among all the other things that have happened to me lately, but now I feel it with full force: the girls definitely think I'm dead. I didn't return from the hunting trip, and there's a good chance they've found my spear on the ground. And here I am, partying with a whole bunch of cavemen, safe behind a wall and gates and armed guards, sexing the days and nights away with the best guy on the planet.

“I'm sorry,” I whisper up at the stars and wipe some tears from my cheeks. “But I'll come get you. Don't feel bad, Aurora. I'll start searching tomorrow.”

Ar'ox has finished his story and puts a strong arm around me and pulls me close. He may not understand what I feel, but he knows exactly what to do.

“Emilia should try this,” he says and places a plate of a jelly-like substance in front of me. “Right, Punir'ox?”

“Ah, well ... indeed,” the caveman on the other side of me says uncertainly. “The vrin gives strength for many hours. Why, I remember once when I was hunting a gerx ...”

He launches into a hunting story and I try the jelly, realizing at once that it's just as sour as I suspected. These guys don't have sugar, and all the tiny fruits are sour. “Wonderful,” I say and chew it enthusiastically. It may look like jelly, but it definitely isn't. “Very ... stringy.”

“Yes, isn't it?” Punir'ox says sincerely. “It's made from the trunk of the vrin bush. Only the very toughest fibers are used, and then they're left to steep in clear vrin juice for a whole cycle of Yrf until the juice is brown. At that point one drops a stone on it. If the stone bounces back, the juice is poured out and the vrin is finished. If it doesn't, it's left for longer.”

“Tastes very bouncy,” I agree, still chewing with no end in sight. It's like a tough chewing gum with strands of dry rope in it, and my jaws are aching. “A fine dish. Colorful, too.”

“Indeed. Some feel that the original brown is better, but the green indicates extra age, so is preferred by most.”

Ar'ox gives me a mischievous smile, and of course giving me this to eat was a practical joke on his part. He knows how terrible it is.

“I'll get you for this,” I whisper in his ear, and he chuckles.

The ball of sticky gum feels like it grows in my mouth and I know I can't swallow it. I discreetly deposit it into the pocket in my dress, hoping that I can disentangle the knife from it later.

I take a sip of the slightly sweet water from the salen trees and wish that Alice was here. But I didn't see her when I went outside the wall, and she knows where to find me. It's probably wise of her to stay away while it's light. Maybe she'll come see me tonight. I'll leave the door to Ar'ox's cave ajar. The wall won't give her any troubles – she can bounce over it easily.

I yawn. This is a good party, and I get the feeling the tribe accepts me. That's a good sign for later, when I bring the girls here. And Jax'zan. From what Gur'ex said, I think there might be hope.

Ar'ox holds me tighter, and I lean into his shoulder. If this is typical of what life was on Earth in the really old days, then the people living back then got their joys, too. It's a hard life being a cavewoman. But it makes small moments like this more meaningful. And afterwards ...

The thought itself if enough to get me worked up again. Afterwards we'll go to his cave, and then he'll fuck me into an otherworldly bliss.

I take a deep breath of the evening air. I don't think I hate this planet anymore.