The New Cave (Caveman Chronicles)

The Index -|-

Kpleeb awoke with the daylight shining into his eyes.

It was a warm and comforting light and he smiled to himself as he laid there with in a daze. He rolled over and felt the smoothness of the ground beneath him. He rested closing his eyes blissfully. Slowly, a memory of blackness crept up on him, and in a moment, he jerked his eyes open and rubbed the haze away. Above, the sun looked and felt like daylight, but there was something wrong about it. He looked around.

He was in a strange cave. The walls were far enough apart that he could not have reached them even if he were as tall as the fabled plains-giant. The floor was hard and smooth and it curved upwards toward the wall just like caves back home. But these floors were too smooth and too shiny, and where they rose upward, the ceiling met them perfectly. Kpleeb looked up and marveled at the perfect transition. These walls had so many sides that not even Pfftul would be able to tell where each side ended and the next began.

Kpleeb turned to place his palms on the floor. There was a slight warmth in them.

[Must be close to fire river.]

He grunted and sniffed the air cautiously. But… there was no sour smell or warmth in the air. The cave had no entrance that he could see, and yet it was neither hot nor cold. He carefully touched all of the walls, and then stood on his toes to follow the ceiling of the cave as it rose. There was a point where he could not reach the ceiling even when he used his hairy legs to vault upward with outstretched hand.

He stopped after leaping a few times and panting, stared up toward the sun. It was becoming dusk, but he noticed that the sun did not move to fall beyond some distant feature. There was no colorful sunset; only a dimming. This new sun intrigued him, and so he sat down on the smooth cave floor and watched it carefully. Slowly, the sun dimmed and after twilight it became almost entirely black.

The air cooled as the sun when down, and Kpleeb curled into a ball at the lowest part of the floor. After some moments the moon appeared and shone silvery and dim above him. He noticed that it was very near where the sun had disappeared. With the warmth of the floor on his side, he drifted to sleep.

When Kpleeb awoke the sun was dim and yellow but becoming brighter. He yawned and rolled over. He looked around and noticed that there was a shallow outcropping on one of the cave walls. He stood and shuffled toward it and noticed the smell first. In the hollow of the outcropping lay a grey vegetable of some sort. Next to it lay a small chunk of savory meat. That was the smell that drew him. He reached out with his finger tip and touched the grey blob. It was warm.

He was hungry, but needed to relieve himself first. He turned in a circle and scanned the walls. On the side farthest from the food there was another outcropping. This one did not smell when he approached it, but there was a hole just bigger than both of his palms together. He bent and sniffed. He was not sure, but thought that it would make a reasonable defecation pit even though there was no smell there.

When he was done, he ate. The grey vegetable was bland but filling. He thought that it was similar to the ground-nuts that many of his cavepeople ate during the cold times before the yearly wetening. The meat was a little overcooked to his liking. There was no blood in it, but he ate it anyway. When he was finished eating the food that was there, the outcropping filled up with water. He could not see where it came from, but it tasted fine, if a little less mineral than the river water.

The sun grew bright and with it the heat grew. Kpleeb slept and woke when the sun was still very bright. He examined every piece of the cave walls and found no cracks. He slept. The sun grew dim, and the moon came. When he woke again the sun was brightening. He ate. It was the same food exactly. He slept. The sun grew dim. He woke and the moon came. He slept. There was nothing but the routine, the sun, the moon, the meat and grey vegetable that he began to call a flub because it reminded him of the grey, ball rodents that lived all around the canyon back home.

[Is this the pit of the damned?]

He slept and woke.

Kpleeb stared at the wall. [If this was the pit of the damned, there would be no food.]

He ate and slept. The moon came. He leapt at the moon but could not touch it. No one said there was not food in the afterlife. He tried to count the days, but he had never been good at counting, even when using his fingers and toes. Everything blended together.

The Index (Caveman Chronicles)

Part I: The User Group

Part II: The Storm

Part III: Darkness

Part IV: The New Cave

Part V: A Voice

Part VI: Magic

Part VII: Learning

Part VIII: Understanding The Cave

Part IX: A Wish

Part X: Level Two

Part XI: Substructure

Part XII: Thoka

Part XIII: So Much To Learn

Part XIV: Merging Minds

Part XV: Abacus Hammer

Part XVI: Base-10

Part XVII: New Feelings

Part XVIII: Level 3

Part XIX: Turning a Corner

Part XX: Together

Part XXI: A Gap in Time

Part XXII: The Drill

Part XXIII: A Fit of Anger

Part XXIII: To See the Sun

Part XXIV: Weather

Part XXV: The River

Part XXVI: Moving

Part XXVII: Fishing

Part XXVIII: The Trail

Part XXIX: A Severe Beating

Part XXX: Shame

Part XXXI: Plans

Part XXXII: Re-Capture

Part XXXIII: Pale Warrior

Part XXXIV: Defeat

Part XXXV: The Whipping They Deserve

Part XXXVI: An Understanding of Equals

Part XXXVII: The Seed

Part XXXVIII: Xinti

Part XXXIX: Death-White

Part XL: Ganix

Part XLI: Zara

Part XLII: Detector Build

Part XLIII: The Angle

Part XLIV: A Trek

Part XLV: The Forthtelling

Part XLVI: The Rescue

Part XLVII: Silica Dust

Part XLVIII: A Return to Uuiit’s House

Part XLIX: Defensive Preparations

Part L: The Mortal Wound

Part LI: Dangerous Angles

Part LII: Jariit

Part LIII: The Xi

Part LIV: The Xi Must be Destroyed

Part LV: Self-Destruct

Part LVI: Reflecting on the Future

Part LVII: Harness The Lightning

Part LVIII: The Blasted Xi are Back!

Part LIX: Battle at the Village

Part LX: Missing

Part LXI: Veiled

Part LXII: Aboard the Hsstak

Part LXIII: The Need to Fly

Part LXIV: Viinox

Part LXV: The Undulating Whorl

Part LXVI: Murderous

Part LXVII: The Emitters

Part LXVIII: Mangas the Terrible

Part LXIX: Overseer

Part LXX: Stranded

Part LXXI: Despair

Part LXXII: The Tour

Part LXXIII: Destruction of the Greki

Part LXXIV: Investigation

Part LXXV: The Subjects

Part LXXVI: Kanta

Part LXXVII: Zara’s Return

Part LXXVIII: Shifting Places

Part LXXIX: Hkkli

Part LXXX: Peace Pipe

Part LXXXI: Return to Phaedro

Part LXXXII: The Map

Part LXXXIII: Kerflk

Part LXXXIV: The Attack on Juma

Part LXXXV: Dead Juma

Part LXXXVI: Liret

Part LXXXVII: Iriop

Part LXXXVIII: Planning the Next Jump

Part LXXXIX: Visiting Wiag

Part XC: Cupet

Part XCI: The Grand Yefrtil Administrative Center

Darkness (Caveman Chronicles)

The Index -|-

Kpleeb sighed and leaned back against a rock. He rubbed his lower back and looked around. To the South he could see nothing but rubble and the occasional dip in the land covered in a tuft of green. He looked over his shoulder and saw the same view and the setting sun. He knew that was where home had been. Being an apprentice rock carver had kept him inside the caves for too long, still, he remembered the cavemanhood training that his da had given him.

Those were good times, long before the land had grown cold. Even in the heat it seemed that it was not as hot as it used to be. Not that Kpleeb was old. He had only been a cave”man” for a short-ish time, many handfuls of moon-cycles at least. Those days were special to him now that his da had fallen into the endless cave.

Kpleeb rustled through his reed-sack and made sure that he could eat when he reached the oasis. Had had eaten nothing since yesterday’s wounded muskrat. Two legs eat first, little brother. He looked up and saw the hazy blue sky in every direction. It was a mix of fuchsia and peach but faded to darker blue at the edges of the sky. It would be beautiful if he were not so stressed, hungry, and terribly exhausted.

What could he do but sit here – sag here really – and…. what – die? The idea was admittedly enticing to him. After all, he wandered for a few moon-cycles. He had stabbed at the muskrats and diapsids. He chased the birds, and even caught one that was lame. He swizzled the waters of the oases and fought off the crocodiles that defended their shallows. If Kenthid had banished him before the start of the great wetening, well… He certainly would have entered the endless as a popsicle. Apparently, he was more hearty than he realized.

The weather was becoming warmer now, but… it would not be a great disturbance to end this suffering, in fact he had already tried to die twice, but could not stop fighting for food and breath. “C’est la vie,” he would say if he spoke French. So Kpleeb sat and looked at the next oasis. Dusk would come in a soon, and there was a green tuft just a few stone’s throw away.

He stood up and groaned at the aches that permeated his back. His heavy reed-sack hoisted slowly. It contained the entirety of his worldly possessions. The nettle branch that Pfftul had given him, his favorite six-sided rock, and a small, somewhat stale muskrat leg. The leg would be his only meal today.

The walk to the oasis was short, and behind him the hazy sun continued its inexorable slide into the horizon. He walked slowly, as was his way. At the edge of the oasis where the sand piled up he stopped to take one last gaze at the land. In the distance he saw what appeared to be a cloud. Featureless, it was an indeterminate size, but it billowed and was darker in the center.

Kpleeb did not know if the storm would come his way, but he felt unlucky and so went into the oasis to find shelter. He drank his fill and then shifted some broad leaves into a makeshift hood under two trees. It would not keep much storm water out, he thought that maybe it would allow him to sleep. As was the custom, he had just dunked his stale muskrat leg in the water when he heard the wind pick up.

The wind had a sort of high-pitched whine to it. It was not like a normal storm in that sense, but the blowing dust and gusty air was entirely normal. He ducked under the leaves just as the sky went dark in a strange way. The evening, filtered through the flying dust and debris was dim, but not black. He could see his own hand, hairy and knobby, one second and the next it was gone. He dropped the muskrat leg and cowered under the leaves.

Kpleeb lay with eyes open staring upward. He saw nothing, but the high-pitched whine continued unabated. Within a handful of moments, a wind buffeted him from all sides and he felt himself lifted as if by the air itself. Leaves brushed his skin, and wind battered him from all angles. He shook with fear and felt the world go black around him.

With the true blackness came silence.

The Storm (Caveman Chronicles)

The Index -|-

The tundra was a barren place. At least that was what Pfftul and the other cavepeople thought. There were rumors of course, how could there not be? Occasionally someone would go missing, or a yak would turn up dismembered… or tiptoeing. Sometimes Ftulbi would stumble in half-clocked on fermented yak’s milk and rant endlessly about shadows moving in the storm.

“Urrgh, there are shadows,” he would say loudly to anyone who would listen. “They’re moving in the storm!” He had such a way with words, and each time he would insist that his sister had been taken in times long past.

Everyone knew he was crazy though, because he would say the same thing even when there was no storm. His mam, older and wiser than Ftulbi, just shook her head at his mention of a sister. She never spoke, but was respected for her wisdom. A sister no caveman had ever seen, well that was plausible (though unlikely) in the tight knit community along the short cliffs by the river. A storm that no one saw was impossible. The nights on the tundra rose and fell with regularity as did each season that was set apart by its weather.

The weather was, simply – standard. Storms did come through at times, but the land above the shallow canyon was flat, and large clouds of dust or rain could be seen at a great distance. Most often, wildebeest hunters led by Kenthid would come bounding down the beaten path and warn the cavedwellers of any incoming storms. The warning today, merely a handful of moon-cycles from the great and frigid wetening, was just at dusk.

“It comes!” shouted Kenthid at the top of her throaty lungs. She had a tight grip on one wildebeest leg and the other two legs were clutched by Foopril and Gurp as they struggled to keep up with Kenthid’s long gait. “Everyone inside now!” she bellowed.

Wup turned from rolling his rock and scrunched up his nose as he peered toward the hollering and bounding troupe of hunters. “How long ’til she blasts us, Kenthid? I still need to finish this.” He nudged the rock with his foot.

“Who can measure time except the fab elder Shoofit? Your tiny brain cannot comprehend even if I could tell you.” Kenthid slid to a halt next to Wup and growled at him. “It comes soon.” She raised her wildebeest slapping stick threateningly. “I would whap you with this majestic stick if it were not against the natural laws.”

Wup flinched involuntarily, but then recovered and smiled. “Thank the clouds for elder Shoofit’s wisdom!” he yelled. Wup then turned and began to roll his rock further away from Kenthid’s position.

“If you die out here, I will be the first to loot your cave hollar,” Kenthid hollered after him. She shook her fist and then turned away to help others inside.

Wup ignored her and kept rolling away toward the river.

From the nearby entrance of a cave, Pfftul watched the exchange. Kenthid was not even an elder or the offspring of an elder. She was just bossy… and huge. Kpleeb had not been the first of his friends that she had driven onto the tundra in search of some dignity. His muscles flexed beefily as he hefted his carving rock and turned to make his way past the bend in the cave tunnel. The storm would arrive soon enough, and he enjoyed standing near the entrance and watching the sky darken.

Soon, after a short time, the storm did come. Only Ullipt was still outside trying to gather his muskrats into their pen-hole. Pfftul peeked out of the entrance and saw how he kicked them into the hole and rolled some logs over the top. Every time he got one muskrat in, another one would escape. Ullipt looked up in fear every few seconds as the wind began to howl. He kept at his work though. The sky glowed with a diffusion of distant light as it usually did.

Suddenly, the darkness fell completely, and Pfftul could not see Ullipt at all though he was just a stone’s throw away from this cave entrance.

“Ullipt!” Pfftul shouted. “OVER HERE!” He listened for a response but could not hear anything over the whistling and rushing wind. He strained his eyes but saw nothing except the blackness. Pfftul shuddered in fear. “Ullipt!!” He edged closer to the entrance and yelled again. His loincloth whipped his thighs ferociously.

Just then, Ullipt careened out of the dark and stumbled into Pfftul’s arms. He had a terrible gash across his forehead and his feet scrabbled at the stone as he tried to push past.

Pfftul held on to Ullipt. He knew him to be a caveman of focus and calm. “What happened to your head?” asked Pfftul. “Let’s go further inside.”

Ullipt was practically shoving his way through, and only stopped once they had rounded the bend in the tunnel. “It… It, – Urrgh!”

“Calm down, Ullipt,” said Pfftul. “What happened?”

“The storm,” Ullipt said with fear in his voice. “The shadows crawl in the storm!”

Pfftul felt a chill and clenched his carving rock tightly as he turned to look toward the bend in the passage.

“Let’s go find a fire and get you some yak’s milk.” He paused and turned back to Ullipt. “I might have some too.”