The Mantooth by Christopher Leadem

  Her mind fell back into itself. Sure enough, sketched there in relativedetail against the background of a large den, was the figure of a greatprehistoric beaver, '.....eight to twelve feet in length.'Recovering herself, she moved hastily to sit beside him.

  'Do they look like this?'

  'Yes, more or less.'

  She flipped through the stiff, distending pages---Mammals of thePleistocene. She stopped at a pair of saber-toothed cats, lurkinghungrily near a tar-pit. 'What about these?' Have you seenthem?'

  'Yes, but it is not a good likeness.'

  Her mind raced so that she hardly heard him. Was it possible? Had lifereverted to its primitive, violent stages before Man, evolution inreverse? Her scientific education told her no, it couldn't happen.But was anything impossible here? She doubted it. She turned the pagesagain, stopped at the illustration of a lesser species of cave-bear.Again she showed him the book.

  'Yes, I have seen them, though they live mostly to the north andwest. But it is not a good likeness.'

  Exasperated: 'Why, Kalus? Why isn't it a good likeness?'

  'Because the bear is standing---in life a bear only stands when it isgoing to fight---and still he is only a head taller than the tribesman.I tell you, the bears of the north are much larger.'

  'Tribesman?' In her haste she had failed to note the two fur-cladNeanderthals which stalked it, spear in hand, from behind a group ofrocks. The face of the nearer was hard and set, with swept-backcheekbones and heavy, prominent brow. Eyes animal, and yet not animal.The caption said something about, EARLY MAN IS BELIEVED TO HAVESUCCESSFULLY HUNTED.....

  'No. It can't be.' Her eyes went wide. 'Your people looklike this?' This time he had no reservations.

  'Yes.'

  She sat there numb. The realization of the truth had quite overwhelmedher. Mindless, soulless animals returning to the form of theirprimitive ancestors were one thing. Men..... But it was more than eventhat. For the first time in her life she knew, really knew, that Manhad once been caught in between, neither fully instinctive nor rational,animal nor human, left to cross the tenuous bridge alone, and forthousands of years. The intensity of their fear, and answeringdetermination, must have been terrifying.

  And at what point did he develop a clear mind, and immortal soul? Shenearly wept at the thought: Man's immortal soul. As opposed to themortal, unfeeling animals. What a sad and sorry farce. She lookedfirst to Kalus, then at the wolf---who stood regarding her from theentrance, feeling, but not understanding her pain. She turned again toKalus. One last hope.

  'But you don't look anything like that.'

  'And I don't look like my people. It is the greatest mystery ofmy life, and the reason they mistrust me.' She rocked herself alittle, beyond the point of tears. The man-child waited.

  'What is wrong?'

  She found she could not answer with words, though the thoughts had comeeasily enough: too easy, like vague fears taking shape and becomingfamiliar from the smokes of a half-remembered past. He seemed to sensethis, or something like it, and to know that whatever it was she wasfeeling, he could not help her now. Not yet.

  He continued his work, notching the poles with hard strokes from theside of his stone knife, as she moved bewilderedly back to her place.But often as he worked he would look over at her, stirred strangely byher dismay at simple truths he had long since been forced to accept. Hethought of this, and it puzzled him. At length he said:

  'I cannot always let myself feel things. I hope you understand that.Perhaps, you must feel them for me.'

  She glimmered softly with marble eyes and said, 'Yes,' but hermind was far away. One phrase only kept echoing inside it, gatheringdeeper associations as it fell, like a leaf, into place.

  THE LIFE OF AN ANIMAL.

  Night came, and they slept.

  Chapter 10

  Morning came slowly, as it will in a cave facing westward, and Sylvianastirred to find her companions long since wakened. The wolf remained onhis guard by the door, while Kalus continued work on a spear. He hadlabored far into the night preparing the shaft, the narrowest andstraightest of the poles he had brought. He was just fitting his stoneknife into the etched groove at the top, to serve as a spearhead, whenhe became aware of her.

  'Did you sleep well?' he asked without sarcasm.

  'Yes.' She rose from the fur, pushed back her hair and took a longdrink from the steel flask, which Kalus had filled. She felt safe andrested as she brought it down again, no longer oppressed by the curving,serrated walls and close proximity of her friends. A deeper, and morenecessary sleep she had not known for days uncounted. 'Thankyou.' She screwed back the cap, set down the flask and went outside.

  Kalus held the long point in his hand, adjusted it several times in theslot. When he had marked the best fitting in his mind, he withdrew itand placed one edge against a flat rock on the floor, then drew out hisround hammer-stone and carefully chipped away at either side of thebase. It was delicate work. One mistake, one overzealous stroke, wouldrender it useless as a spearhead. He did it well, refitted the point inthe groove.

  Lastly he took the long strand that had dangled for weeks from hiswrist, the hide of a buffalo, poured water over it, and wrapped it astightly about the shaft as his strength and its thickness would allow.When he had done and undone this several times, he finally found thebest pattern, and with a grunt of exertion took the remaining length andforced it down between wood and stone, sealing the tie. Sylvianareturned with the wolf as he held it up and studied it with tiredsatisfaction.

  'What will you do today?' she asked, though the spear (and herstomach's emptiness) should have told her.

  'We hunt bigger game, if the wolf is willing. Rabbit is good for theshort hunger, but we need tools and clothing for the winter..... Andmeat.' Was there a trace of fierce lust in his voice as he said theword? Or was it hers in the hearing? She didn't like theimplications.

  'If you were going to hunt, shouldn't you have done it earlier inthe day?'

  'If I had gone out earlier, I think I would have been the hunted andnot the hunter. Let the big cats make their kill. Let hyenas strip thecarcass. Let them all stay contented within their boundaries and onlythreaten to kill me. I am patient.'

  'Oh.' She stood rebuked. 'When will you go?'

  'As soon as I am finished with this.' He took the spear to thecenter of the enclosure, held it firmly in his hand. He checked it forbalance, found the best grips, tested the grain and strength of the woodby leaning it heavily against the ground. 'Good.' He faced thewolf. Shall we hunt together?'

  Akar raised up and gestured toward the entrance. Sylviana, on animpulse:

  'Can I go with you? This place is beginning to get to me.'Sometimes it was better to confront ones fears.....

  His answer surprised her. 'Yes, if you want to. Three bodies arebetter than two. But bring the knife and stay very close. I don'twant to lose you.'

  With the sun a hand's breadth shy of noon, they set out.

  Chapter 11

  The company returned exhausted, with several hours of daylight and muchwork still ahead of them. Kalus had gutted the antelope before startingup the ridge, but climbing the pathless slope with such a burden hadproven an ordeal nonetheless. By the time they reached the ledgeoutside the Mantis' cave, he could go no further. His legs andshoulders ached, threatening spasms, and the wound at the back of hishead throbbed with pain each time his heart beat heavily, which for thepast two hours had been almost constantly.

  Setting down the kill, he looked up at the remaining distance to thesmaller enclosure. He thought of Skither's instructions, but couldonly shake his head.

  'We skin the carcass here,' he proclaimed, breathing heavily.'What the Mantis does not know, cannot trouble his sleep.' Liftingthe carcass one last time he brought it inside, into the relative safetyof the larger cave. Akar and the girl followed him in, too tiredthemselves to protest.

  Akar lay down immediately in the coolest place
he could find. He hadrun close to thirty miles that day, much of it flat out, and nursedemotional, as well as physical fatigue. Neither he nor Kalus had everhunted one with the other, and the experience had not been easilyproductive. It was true that between them they could bring down largergame, but their timing together was far from perfect. The wolf couldnot begin to remember how many times he had circled the smaller herds,trying to drive the stragglers to the place where Kalus waited with hisspear. The toil was frustrating and often dangerous, as this predatoror that would react to his unorthodox, and therefore unacceptablepresence.

  But the real danger had come while stalking the plains elk. Instead ofbolting when he appeared, the herd leader had turned on him suddenly,nearly grinding him into oblivion against the side of a large boulder.Even now he shuddered at the sight of those enormous antlers, coming athim with such startling speed and agility.

  He thought then, very deep inside himself, of how easily the pack hadhunted such game in the past, and of the honor and respect theycommanded. This in turn led to burning memories of his brother, and ofthe murdering half-breed that had brought the pack to such shame. Theinjustice of it all was more than his mind could accept. It tore him upinside, and he couldn't get it out.

  He wanted to KILL him. He wanted to kill him.

  Sylviana was almost in a state of shock. If Kalus had intended to soberher opinion of what they were up against by exposing her directly to it,then he had resorted to overkill. Never had she felt so helpless andexposed as in the presence of that ever-changing panorama of landscapesand formidable creatures. It was like a bad dream without waking: beingin some monstrous zoo, and then finding that the bars of the cages hadsuddenly disappeared. Like but unlike the prehistoric mammals she haddreaded, inexplicably mixed from the family of continents, they were, ina word, overpowering.

  She had not been so frightened by the large herd animals---these gave anair of self-satisfied indifference---as she had been by the fiercepredators that hunted, literally, right alongside them. Kalus had saidnot to worry, that there was an unspoken understanding when on commonground and in times of abundance (he had stretched the truth). But itwas hard to remain calm while looking up sandstone hills at mountaincats seven feet long, with dark traces of mane draggled acrossimpossibly muscular shoulders. She thought of the subtly changedhyenas, probably the most unnerving of all, that had swelled like atooth-edged tide of hatred to the very limits of their borders, snarlingand threatening. And Kalus, shaking his spear in answer, and crying outlike an animal himself.

  And finally the kill, after so many hours. . .she tried to block it fromher mind. But she could not. There it was right in front of her: Kalusdriving the spear deep into the antelope's shoulder as it ran past,the sudden look of terror in its eyes as it fell. Then the way he hadripped the knife from her hand and slashed its throat withouthesitation. True, he had ended its suffering quickly. But why did theyhave to kill it at all? And what was the point, if this world was soutterly wretched and cruel? Again the questions came much too easily.The answers did not.

  By the time Kalus finished skinning the carcass it was nearly dark.They (or rather he) then decided to cook it there as well, rather thanrisk the long climb in darkness. The girl halfheartedly suggested theytake it up through the shaft, but this too was impractical. They builttheir fire near the back of the curving frontal chamber, concealing theflames. Kalus made a crude spit from wood gathered earlier, and beganthe long, slow process of cooking the meat in strands, that nothingwould be wasted.

  *

  After a time the smoke gathered above them at its height, trailing andwisping across the vaulted ceiling to the entrance, forming pools, orrising like an upward fall through the shaft. Sylviana lay emotionlesson the bed, and watched it flow out like a river of vapor. After whatseemed a long time she heard Kalus' voice calling her to eat.'I'm not hungry,' she said. He came and sat beside her on thebed.

  'You must eat.' She looked at him. 'I know today was very hardfor you. I know you don't like to kill..... We will try to gatherberries and water plants tomorrow, but I cannot promise it. Please,Sylviana. You must try to be strong just one more time.'

  Her eyes finally saw him, and yet again he was not an animal, but humanlike herself, suffering the same pain and empty confusion. For whatlittle that was worth.

  'All right.'

  She got up and sat with him on the floor. She ate from the wooden bowlwithout relish. But still the food gave her sustenance. Kalus watchedher, saddened, then rose and walked into the chamber beyond. Hereturned a short time later, his bowl filled with the green,sweet-smelling sebreum. He placed it in front of her.

  'I know it's not easy for you.'

  'But the Mantis.'

  'Has a heart the same as I do. Eat.' She regarded him weakly,blinked from the smoke, then lowered her head and ate.

  Kalus returned to his cooking as the fire grew less, and after perhapsan hour went to sit beside her on a flat stone near the entrance. Shestared out into the formless darkness beyond, a fur wrapped around herfor warmth. But still she shivered. They were silent, then he spoke.

  'The Cold World will be coming soon. Winter. Already the days growshort, and the evenings cool. It is the time of year I like best. Wewill be safer then.'

  'Safer. How?'

  'The herd animals travel south in search of living green, and thepredators must follow. We will be able to move about more freely.'

  'But how will we eat?' She didn't want him to stop talking.

  'We will eat.' Silence. 'I feel more at peace in the ColdWorld. For there, if a man is strong, he can breathe the free windunafraid. Only the hardiest predators remain, and among them isrespect.'

  'What about your people?'

  'They will follow the herds, as they always do.'

  'Then how do you know what the winter is like? Or will you go withthem?'

  A hurt, disbelieving look came over him. 'NO.' He feltfrustration pushing back at his own will to live. 'These past threeWinters I have lived alone.' He looked out, and thought he might knowwhat she was feeling.

  'I have known loneliness, too, though perhaps it is another kind.Your sorrow is for friends and ways that have died. Mine is forcompanionship that I have never known. Because to my people I am whatthis world is to you: something beyond their experience. And because ofthat they fear it, and mistrust..... I would be your friend, Sylviana,but I don't always know how.' She turned, and in the shadows hisface looked worn and grim: there was no doubting his pain. She loweredher eyes to the ground.

  'I just don't understand,' she said, half in a whisper. 'Idon't understand it at all. Why was I brought here and left to goon? Sometimes I think it was just to have one illusion and then anotherstripped away, till there's nothing left but the struggle to surviveand not go crazy. And when the last of my illusions are gone..... Whatthen, Kalus? What's left?' He thought for a moment, deeply, thenraised his head and answered.

  'Life.' He touched his breast. 'What is here inside us.Perhaps that is not so much. Or perhaps it is everything.' He turnedto face her. 'I cannot always let myself grieve, Sylviana. Can yousee that?' She nodded. 'But if you have to cry, I will try tocomfort you. . .as you once did for me.'

  She felt a wall give way inside her. She didn't answer, but slowlyput her head to his chest, silently begging to be held. And finally thetears came. He held her warmly, feeling so many things. At length shedrew back, and held his eyes with hers. There was only one way out ofthis desert. Here and now.

  'Kalus..... Will you sleep with me tonight? Not to make love---'He put a finger to her lips. He knew what she meant. They stayed thereby the entrance a while longer, then went together to the bed.

  Akar ate solemnly, without pleasure, then returned to the isolated hellof his thoughts.

  Chapter 12

  Morning came softly by the riverbed, with a cool northeastern breezethat rustled the changing willow leaves and sent long waves of go
ldenbrown across a gentle sea of grass: the Savanna. The boy stood silenton the northern bank at the meeting of the shallow, stony stream and thewider, more placid river, breathing deep the autumn air and gazing outover the pearling waters with a look of boundless wonder. For his wasthe magic of youth among the hill-people: man enough to take in morethan the sum of his surroundings, animal enough to feel the bliss of amind free from distraction.

  He had wandered far from his sleeping comrades, just as his friend theestranged one used to do. He found himself thinking of Kalus now, andwondered vaguely, perhaps a bit sadly, if he was still alive. Not thatthe thought was deep or the pain acute. But it did seem unfortunatethat he had to be cast out, when maybe he was not so strange afterall. Shama missed him.

  Hearing a twig crack behind him, he stiffened. Whirling about, hesearched the sloping embankment with startled curiosity. A lone wolfstood at the crest of the hill, not forty yards away. He wondered whatit was doing so far from its established hunting grounds. Even as hedid so another head appeared, followed by a low, snaking body. The twodid not move, but stood rather in ominous silence, peering down at himintently.