- Emilia -

“Let's see if this works. Taste it.”

I've ground a handful of dry leaves into a fine powder, and I drop a pinch of it into the stew. It's a new recipe, but the ingredients are usually the same: various leaves, boiled turkeypig meat, some roots and a lot of heat to make everything reasonably soft to chew. None of us like the dish that much, so we try to spice it up with new herbs and things that we hope aren't too toxic.

These leaves come from a bush that I found hidden away close to the cave, and they smell fresh enough to me.

Caroline puts a wooden spoon into the clay pot that was one of the first I made, then tastes it. “Mm. Uh-huh. Riiiight. Umm ... what do you think, Emilia?”

She gives me the spoon and I dip it into the pot and bring it to my lips. It's like a vegetable soup, except more sour and less filling. “Yeah ... it's a little better. The new spice kind of covers the metallic notes a little.”

Caroline smiles. “I know, right? It's less like sucking on a nickel now. More ... wooly?”

I nod and take another sip. “More wooly,” I agree as brightly as I can. “And I think I detect some hints of kerosene?”

Caroline tastes it again and frowns. “Oh yes. Like the jet fuel you smell at the airport. Does that mean it contains more energy, you think?”

“Probably!”

I'm trying to sound upbeat. It's not great cuisine we're cooking here on this planet that Jax'zan calls Xren. But it's pretty nourishing, especially the meat of the creature that we call turkeypig, because it looks like both of those and tastes like none of them.

I know the meat is nourishing because I usually make sure I don't eat it. I just don't like it at all. It swells in my mouth and makes me want to retch, so I discreetly scoop only the vegetables onto my plate. As a result, the other girls have remained pretty nice and round from all the turkeypig they're eating, while I'm losing weight faster than I ever thought possible. That was not my intention, and it worries me. It's not like we have a lot of food reserves here, and if there's a sudden slump in the food supply for some reason, it's better to have a little bit extra stored on your hips. And I like the way I look with some boobs and and some roundness to my hips.

Caroline smacks her lips. “You know, I'm not sure this is better, exactly. It's different, but not in a way that's definitely an improvement.”

“Different can be good,” I offer. “Maybe it can make a good soup on its own. Or an infusion of some kind.”

“I suppose,” Caroline says doubtfully. “We'll do some more experimenting. What should we call it?”

We like to make names for the things in our daily lives. Jax'zan has names for all of them already, and sometimes we use those. But we're a caveful of language students, so of course we prefer to come up with words ourselves.

“The leaves are kind of blueish,” I observe. “When they're dried out, anyway. How about Jet Blue?”

Caroline scratches her head. “Isn't that an airline?”

“Oh, right. That budget one? Yeah, we don't want that. We want something more classy. How about Air France? Emirates? Cathay Pacific?”

“Hey, I like that. Cathay Blue?”

“Yeah! Classy, but still reminds you that it tastes of airplane fuel.”

“Done!”

We high-five each other. Every little triumph has to be celebrated somewhat. We don't have too many of those.

Aurora comes inside and dumps a bunch of firewood into the bin. She's dripping of sweat and I can see she has a little cut on her hand. “Celebrations, huh? I'm glad someone has the time for that.” She gives me a little glance.

I feel my cheeks warming up. “Hey, I was going out later, just so you know.”

“Come over and try this, Aurora,” Caroline tries to smooth things over. “It's flavored with Cathay Blue. Super classy.”

Aurora stays put and studies her hand, making sure we can see her wound. “Uh-huh. Another little improvement that just doesn't happen to have any real nourishment value, but which means that not all of us have to go into the woods?”

“Not everyone needs to do that,” Caroline says mildly. “We all contribute in our own ways. New spices and flavors can be important.”

Aurora leans against the cave wall and crosses her arms over her chest. “That's very convenient for those who can stay around the cave at all times. While some of us risk our lives every day, going into a damn jurassic jungle to keep everybody alive. I don't mean you, Caroline. You hunted down and cleaned two turkeypigs yesterday. I just mean that you're pulling more weight than you should. We all are.”

The cave is suddenly very quiet, and I'm glad everyone else is somewhere outside. Aurora's words hit me right in my sorest spot.

I get to my feet, feeling my cheeks burn. “I know what you mean. We agreed in the beginning that everyone could help out in the ways they prefer, but I see now that we've changed our minds. I was hoping that making some pots for us would be a decent contribution, but the clay around here just isn't the right kind. I suppose the baskets and pots I made before aren't up to your high standard, Aurora.”

I speak more forcefully than I intended, and Caroline is a little taken aback. “You make good pots, Emilia, you know that. Much better than mine. They all cracked right away.”

I gather some things and get my own spear, the one that's tipped with an irox tooth and that I have never used. “Yeah, well. We're all entitled to our opinions. And it's true. I should contribute more. Starting now.”

I walk to the opening of the cave, and Aurora gives me room to pass her. “Don't go too far. I heard some ugly screams from the valley today.”

I give her an angry glance. “Sounds like a good place to start.”

This time I don't stand there watching for predators. I walk fast to the edge of the forest, clutching the spear. The smell of the woods scares me, but today it doesn't scare me enough.

Delyah comes towards me, carrying roots she's dug up nearby. “You going out alone? Stay away from the valley today. Some of the dinos are fighting, I think. Could be dangerous.”

I look away, not wanting her to see the tears on my face. “Well, maybe that's just what's needed. A little less weight to pull for everyone else.”

I'm not even sure what that's supposed to mean, but I can feel Delyah's worried, brown eyes on my back as I march right into the jungle.

I walk for about twenty minutes without stopping and without caring how much noise I make. The anger and the hurt are making me brave, and I entertain childish fantasies about dying tragically and everyone missing me and being sorry, Aurora especially.

Then I calm down. The things she said were just the same things I've been saying to myself, so they hit too close to home. I should be glad that she chose a pretty good time to say it, a time when not everyone could hear it. I'm pretty sure Aurora's not the only one who's been thinking it. She was doing me a favor, giving me a chance to improve before my embarrassment would become too public.

And I know she's right.

Fine. I will try to kill something today. A turkeypig, ideally. They're pretty large, and they move slowly. They're clearly made to be eaten.

I stop and look around. I've never been this far from the cave before, except the one time we all went to Bune to check out the old spaceship. But that time, I wasn't alone.

It's a dense jungle, but right here the ground is pretty flat and even and there aren't that many bushes that can hide small horrors. I don't know what I fear the most – the dinosaurs that Jax'zan calls Bigs, the slightly smaller predators that he calls Smalls or the insects that he calls Tinies. They're all bad in their own way, and pretty much all of them are deadly. Sometimes it seems like the only prey on this planet is college girls.

Delyah says that she thinks all the predators prey on each other, which explains some of the oppressive atmosphere here. Everyone is out to kill everyone else, and nobody is safe.

I'm surprised at how few fruit trees there are around here. I would have liked nothing better than to come home with a bunch of coconuts or oranges or something, but I've rarely seen anything like that on this planet.

I scratch one calf with the other foot and look up at the canopy of dark green leaves, so dense I can't see the sky. So here I am in the middle of the jungle that scares me stiff. I hear little scurrying sounds and rustlings in the grass. Despite what I said to Aurora, I'm keeping a healthy distance to the valley. I'm not that hurt.

But now that the anger is subsiding, it's giving way to that old fear I know so well. The silence seems threatening. I see movement everywhere, and even if I know that some of it is my imagination, that doesn't make it better. Everything here wants me dead.

I stand there in the deep jungle and feel both silly and so out of place it takes my breath away. Chubby little language student Emilia Lopez, in the middle of the jungle on an alien planet, wearing an ugly dress made from dinosaur skin and no underwear, holding a small spear, thinking she's going to hunt. I would have laughed if it weren't so tragic.

A little green butterfly comes fluttering out of the trees and sets an unsteady course in my direction.

I squeal and crouch down, pointing my spear at the attacker. It doesn't seem to notice, so I wave the spear wildly towards it. “Get the hell away from meeee!”

My assailant flutters casually to the side and away again, then alights on a blue flower some distance away.

I straighten up and hear my own heartbeat in my ears. I take a deep, trembling breath. Yikes. I'm just a little on edge.

But am I also slightly less afraid? I've successfully fought off the first monster. It wasn't very big, but I have to start somewhere. Now I'm in here, the jungle doesn't seem all that lethal. It's actually pretty quiet and calm. After all, the other girls have all survived until now, and they've gone into the woods lots of times. Maybe some of the danger was in my own head?

I straighten my back, put my hands on my hips and look the jungle square in the eye. I can handle this.

The ground feels weird under my dinosaur skin sandals, as if slippery. I clench my jaw. With my luck, I've probably stepped on something terrible. I glance down. The ground is grayish and slightly soft. Yep, probably just the disgusting droppings of some monster dinosaur. Then I frown and bend over to run my fingers over it. This looks a lot like clay!

I dig my fingers into the dirt and rub it together between my hands. It's extremely fine, much finer than sand, and I can't make out the individual grains. It's just a little bit moist, and it sticks together and stretches so well that it reminds me of Play-Doh.

I bring it up to my nose. If this is dinosaur droppings, then I may just have to forget I ever found it ... But no, it doesn't smell of anything other than just clay.

And there's a lot of it. The wide, gray streak runs in among the trees. This is exactly what I need!

With this much high quality clay, I can make pots and plates and mugs and all kinds of stuff for the cave. I'll be doing something useful for us!

Let's see. All I need to do now is find the cave again. Then bring the stuff back there. Then build a kiln to fire the pots in. Then make the pots. Then figure out how hot and for how long I should fire them. Then-

Something bumps into my butt and knocks me forward. I spin around and grasp the spear, and then the scream dies in my throat, because this is just too much.

It's a dinosaur. Not one of the largest ones that are the size of apartment buildings, but one of the smaller ones that's only bus-size. This one has huge scales and two short, thick legs. A long tail balances the neck and head. I know that because that head is very close to me. It smells of rotting vegetation and has five eyes – four small ones surrounding a fifth very large one that stares at me from up close. It's just a dark lens with no colors anywhere.

My own heartbeat sounds like thunder in my ears. I let my gaze wander down to its mouth. It's a long, black snout that opens sideways and reveals endless rows of equally black teeth that remind me of chainsaws.

It's very quiet as we just stare at each other – me with panic bubbling right under the surface and the dino with what has to be idle curiosity. At least that's what I hope. The dinosaur's nostrils are very large and have a curious and frightening crescent shape. They twitch as the creature probably evaluates my smell. My own evaluation of its smell is already complete: it's rank.

Several seconds pass as I feel my heart beating like a snare drum.

Well, here we are, just staring. A part of me is cool enough to take stock. That thing could ingest me in one bite and maul me to a pulp right here. But it hasn't happened yet, which I decide is a good sign. If it really wanted to eat me, it could have done that while my back was turned.

Still we stand here, face to snout. And now I'm starting to worry about how I'll ever get away. If I break eye contact, will he bite me in half? What if I look down demurely? Will he take that as a sign of strength or as an invitation to crunch me between his teeth? I don't dare look away.

We keep staring at each other, and I raise my eyebrows a fraction. What exactly are his intentions? He's about a thousand times larger than me and clearly has the upper hand. I need some kind of hint. But he's not giving me any.

The seconds tick by. Something really has to happen.

“So,” I say with a shaking voice that seems much thinner than usual, “do you live around he-”

The dinosaur puts his head back and lets loose the most horrific screech, like a thousand elephants with a couple of air raid sirens mixed in. I throw myself down to the ground and clamp my hands over my ears.

¡Cabron! I shouldn't have said anything! Why must I always be so damn chatty?

The scream ends and the dinosaur lowers its head to the ground and snaps its jaws many times in quick succession. But he's not looking at me anymore.

I turn my head and my blood runs cold in my veins. “Hijo de ...”

It's a scorpion the size of a station wagon. Except this one has four terrible tails with stingers on them and so many claws I can't even count them. Its mouth has claws, too, and it bristles with antennas and horns and spears that make my own little spear look faintly ridiculous. Its compound eyes are mounted on long stalks, and I get the feeling it's looking right at me. The body reminds me of a centipede, except more snake-like. In short, it's a collection of nightmares all mixed together and then spiced up with a pinch of total terror.

It's so horrible I can't even look at it. I glance over at the dinosaur, which takes up a stance like a bull ready to charge a bullfighter.

I don't have any more fear. It's already turned up to ten, and the only alternative now is to curl up into the fetal position and just sob until one of the monsters eats me. It's not an attractive prospect.

I force myself to crawl away slowly, inching backwards with stiff, jerky movements while still staying as close to the ground as I can and keeping an eye on the two monsters.

They size each other up for a couple of seconds more, and then the dinosaur charges and the scorpion jumps forwards to meet it. There's a metallic clang as the dino's snout hits the scorpion's claws, and then they're just a blur of spears and teeth and stingers and tails. The sounds of the fight are otherworldly, with screams and thuds and ripping noises and cracking and whooshing and metal rubbing on metal.

It's a terrible spectacle that I know I'll see in my mind's eye for the rest of my life, and I squeal and crawl backwards much faster.

I can't tell which one of them is winning, and I don't care that much right now. Then I judge that I have enough distance between me and them to get up and run. So I do.

I've run before. But never like this. It feels like my feet don't touch the ground, and still I want to cry at how slow I'm moving. The tree trunks pass by like in a blur, but not fast enough. I want the whole planet between me and those two monsters, but even that wouldn't be enough. I run while my throat closes up in terror and my feet step on rocks and sand and gravel and all kinds of dirt and debris, and I just keep running and running until I have to slow down because it seems the planet has run out of air.

“Stupid airless planet,” I wheeze and keep walking, so winded I'm bent double with exhaustion and my breath whistles in my throat.

It's not the best time to come across the dinosaur that Sophia met once and she just calls the not-raptors, because they look at lot like velociraptors but are plainly not. Jax'zan calls them rekh. They're small for dinosaurs, but they're fast and they like to feed linguistics students to their hatchlings.

So of course there is one right now, coming towards me much faster than I can run. It's completely silent, and its reptilian eyes are totally focused on me as it sprints across the ground. It looks like it's grinning with menace, and that's the part that inspires me to find new energy. I turn to the left and speed up again, feeling my muscles protest and my knees almost buckling. I realize that I can't outrun that thing – I have to climb up in a tree. The raptor doesn't look like one of nature's climbers.

I see a tree I like and aim for it, trying to suppress the thought that I'm not one of nature's climbers either.

The hopelessness is percolating now, threatening to break out in a full panic and me just giving up.

I run around the tree, trying to find a branch that's close enough for me to reach.

And then the non-raptor gets me.

“Oof!” I get the wind knocked out of me as the predator grabs me by the waist, lifts me up and carries me off at a huge speed. I can hear its breathing and I feel its fast steps in my whole body. Thankfully it doesn't seem as if it's using its teeth to hold me tight, but I can't draw my breath enough to scream the way I want to.

The ground passes by under me and I start to wonder at this raptor. Its feet look remarkably human-like, with toes and everything. And it smells surprisingly nice. And it feels warm. And ... is that someone's ass?

I frown and try to twist around, but I'm held very firmly in place.

“Stay still, boy,” a deep voice growls in Jax'zan's cavemanese language. “That one nearly had you. But he's not given up yet.”

I almost faint at the realization.

That wasn't a raptor getting me.

That was a caveman saving me from it.

And now he's carrying me over his shoulder in a style that I think his kind knows very well. After all, it was named after them.