Chapter 2
The next thing Malcolm became aware of was warmth... glorious, all encompassing warmth. He let himself bask in it for a time.
After a while he started becoming more aware... started registering different things... like the fact that he was laying on his side, and it felt like he was wearing large but tight mittens... and his feet felt wrapped in something as well. He moved a hand. It wasn't tied... just bandaged. He felt pressure around him as well... like he was cocooned.
He blinked his eyes open, trying to focus them. A bright blue fire flickered merrily in the fireplace.
He glanced down and froze. Two large, owl-like eyes peered back at him. There was some kind of creature laying next to him, curled up against his stomach. It rolled onto it's back, tilting it's little head around until it was upside-down, reaching a little paw out and touching his face. He didn't move.
It drew back it's paw and almost seemed to smile at him. An odd sound, very like a cat's purr, started up deep in the creature's chest. It undulated it's long body, stretching out it's legs one by one... all eight of them... then settled back on it's side, turning it's great eyes to peer at the fire, it's long thin tail undulating.
He got the definite impression that this was some sort of pet. He heard a little sigh behind him, and he realized where the pet's owner was.
He shoved down the fur blanket a bit with his bandaged hand, noting the bandages on his side and covering the forearm of his right arm, the thick pallet beneath him... and more importantly, the arm draped over him.
When he shifted a bit, he realized that she was spooned against him... and they were both quite naked. He shifted the blanket back up as she shivered, unsure what to do.
He closed his eyes and pretended to be asleep as she stirred. He felt a hand gently touching his forehead, then cheek. When her hand was gone, he felt her gently shift away from him, carefully tucking the fur blanket around him. He heard a flutter of material, then the sound of bare feet crossing the room.
He then heard a clattering sound. He shifted onto his back and the clattering stopped. He continued feigning sleep, and the clatter soon resumed. He cracked his eye open.
She was standing over next to a shelf that looked to be carved into the wall. Her hair was a long, lustrous dark red that flowed halfway down her back, and she was now wearing a pale, loose gown. She was making something in a crude metal pot with what looked like twigs and leaves.
He shut his eye as she picked it up and walked back towards him. She stepped over him and settled down in front of the fire. He cracked his eyes open again, watching her.
She took a metal bar and put the handle of the pot on it, carefully shifting it into the fireplace, hooking the handle on a metal hook that reached out from the back of the fireplace. Then she sat there... humming in an oddly human way.
About ten minutes later, she took the bubbling pot off the fire. She stood, her slender form illuminated through the thin material of her gown, and got several things off the ledge above the fireplace. When she settled back down, she set a couple of cups, and a pitcher on the hearth beside her, putting an odd, slightly cone shaped thing on top of the pitcher. Then she picked up a dark mitt and lifted the hot pot, tipping it and carefully pouring the contents into the thing on top of the pitcher. When she set down the pot, he continued to hear fluid trickling down for a moment, then she lifted the top part off the pitcher, letting the last of the fluid drip out, then sat the top in the pot.
As she poured the pink, but clear fluid from the pitcher into the cups, he realized it was some kind of tea, and the top part was a strainer. She sat there, contemplating the fire as the tea cooled. After a while, she checked it, then picked up one of the cups.
He quickly closed his eyes as she turned back to him. After a moment, he felt her hand slip under his head. He decided the time for faking was over. He opened his eyes.
She started, letting out a little squeak of surprise, her hand pulling back from his head as she nearly dropped the cup in her other hand.
They just stared at eachother for a minute. Her hair seemed to glow in the firelight. Her cat-like eyes had dilated, the pupils almost looking round.
When he made no move, she hesitantly shifted closer again. She carefully slipped her hand under his head once again, tilting it up a bit and moving the cup up to his lips.
He sniffed the contents cautiously. Seeing his hesitance, she took a little sip out of the cup herself, then offered it once again to him. He wasn't sure if it was safe, but his stomach was aching with hunger, and his whole body felt weak. He reluctantly let her shift his head up and pour a bit of the liquid into his mouth.
It tasted strange... definitely herbal. As he swallowed, he felt an odd, tingling warmth spread from his stomach. He contemplated it for a moment. It wasn't a bad sensation... so he allowed her to give him more. By the time the small cup was empty, his whole body tingled, and his stomach had stopped protesting. He felt positively tranquil.
"Don't suppose there's any use asking you questions..." he murmured, looking over at her.
She looked at him intently and merely blinked.
He sighed and let his head settle back. "I wonder how long I've been here..." He muttered to himself.
"Two... cycle..." She said, obviously unsure of herself.
His eyes widened, staring at her.
She brightened, gaining confidence, "Two cycle." She said firmly.
"You speak english?" He asked in amazement.
Her eyebrows furrowed as she tried to work that one out. She got up and went over to a little table against the wall. It was only then that he noticed that his ripped pack and the remains of some of his equipment were sitting on it.
She picked up one mangled piece of equipment with wires sticking out and brought it over. It was what was left of his translator. Though there had been no foreseeable need for it on this away mission, it was included in the standard equipment.
When she set it down, he could see it had been tinkered with a great deal. There were bits and pieces that had been scavenged from the other equipment spliced in to replace damaged areas. It looked like nothing more than a tangle of spare parts, but when she pressed the button it beeped. The little screen slowly came to life, though it was held only by wires now.
She let out a string of words in what was obviously her native language. The translator struggled for a moment, then managed, "What... say?" in an obviously synthesized voice.
Malcolm looked from the device to the woman in wonder. From what they had been told, this society was very primitive... they didn't even have internal combustion engines... So how was this woman able to cobble together advanced electronics?
He reached for the device, then paused, remembering the bandages on his hand. He flexed his hand a bit. It felt oddly numb. He wasn't sure if this was a good thing or not.
She put her hand on his, and spoke again in slow, broken English, "Burn of snow... good.." Then she said a word in her language.
After a moment, the translator said, "Tomorrow."
"To-moor-row" She pronounced carefully. "Good tomorrow." she said when she had it down.
"You're a very fast learner." He commented with a smile.
She looked like she had an idea what he was saying, but waited for the translator's version, then blushed.
"How did you get my things?" He asked curiously. From the way the other villagers had reacted, he didn't think they would have just let her stroll into town and retrieve them.
She smiled before the translator could even have a crack at it, and pointed to the creature now lazing near his feet. "Ooroko."
The creature let out a purr, rolling onto it's back once again and waving it's paw at him. He realized for the first time that it's forepaws each had six fingers that were thinner and longer than you usually saw on paws, and it had opposable thumbs. The lower six paws looked more 'normal' if any part of the animal could be called that. She reached over and rubbed it's belly and the purring grew louder.
He couldn't help wonder if this creature had at least a rudimentary intelligence. "Well, thank you Ooroko." He said, carefully duplicating the lilting name. The creature let out what sounded like a sneeze and rolled over, going back to sleep.
"What's your name?"
She blinked for a moment, then said carefully, "You give."
He wasn't sure what to make of that. He decided it was best to try again. "My name is Malcolm." He said slowly so the translator would have a better chance, "What is your name?"
"You give." She repeated.
"Is that your name?" he asked uncertainly.
She looked frustrated, then spoke to the translator, letting it have a try. "You assign name of me." it said mechanically.
This didn't make any sense to him, "What did your parents name you?" She stared at him blankly, even after the translation, so he continued, "What does everyone call you?"
She spoke to the translator again, not wanting to make more mistakes, "You. Girl. Witch." She had her eyes downcast as it translated the last word.
He could tell this was a very touchy subject. He decided it was time to change the subject, he could try again later. He leaned a bit closer to the translator, looking it over. The circuits, as he had suspected, did appear pretty well repaired, all things considered. He glanced up at her. "Why did they smash my things?"
She pointed at the device, then said, "Forbidden."
It took him a moment to figure out what she had said with her accent, then he blinked, "Forbidden?"
She listened to the translator's version to verify, then said, "Yes."
"You mean your people have technology, they just aren't allowed to use it?"
She waited for the translator for that question, then bit her lip in a very human way. After a moment's hard thinking, she gave up and spoke in her language. Even the translator had a hard time.
"Ancients... great knowledge... fight... destroy all... knowledge forbidden... buried... no more."
It didn't sound like it had picked up half the words she said, but he thought he had the gist. It wouldn't be the first society he'd heard of that had nearly destroyed itself, and then shunned technology to avoid complete destruction... there were still pockets of such people on Earth that had been there since the great wars nearly destroyed all of humanity, though he'd never seen such a society slip quite so far back down the social latter.
She was poking at the circuits, obviously concerned it wasn't working properly.
"So, if this happened a long long time ago, and technology has been forbidden ever since... how do you know how to work it?"
She looked up at him, her cheeks coloring. She pulled her hand away from the wire she'd been adjusting.
"Forest." She said at length, as if that were all the answer he needed.
Perhaps it was... now he was more curious than ever as to what was in that forest.
She moved over near the fire, collecting her own cup of tea and drinking it. She refilled both cups, then shifted over and held the cup up for him. He drank it, though he wasn't really feeling very thirsty... and his hunger seemed gone entirely. The tingling sensation wasn't quite as strong this time, but it was still present.
He tensed as she pulled down the blanket. He blushed a bit as she examined his bandage. She glanced up and noticed the slight blush. Picking up on his discomfort, she reached over to a small pile of cloth near the pallet on which he lay. She took ahold of the edge, unfolding it and holding it up for his approval. It was a crude pair of pants.
"Um... could I have my uniform?"
She looked at the translator expectantly. Her eyes flicked up when it was done. She sighed, then concentrated for a moment, "Cut?" she said uncertainly, indicating his wound. She then finished with a string of her language, which the translator interpreted as, "Remedy difficult." she said, tapping the stitching on the side of the pants and miming sewing.
He sighed. From the look of the stitching, they probably used large needles, possibly even bone or the like. He could see how it would be difficult getting such a needle through the dense, reinforced weave of the material of his uniform. Well, at least the pants looked like they would fit him.
Since his hands were tightly wrapped, he had to let her help him... the next few minutes were highly embarrassing, but when he was finally at least partially dressed he felt a bit better.
She smiled down at him as she covered him back up. "Sleep." she said softly.
There were hundreds more questions teeming in his head, but he found he was still quite tired. He vaguely wondered where his fellow crewmen were. It seemed strange that no one had come to get him yet... He drifted off to sleep, still pondering the question.
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