The Lost Level, page 7
This place was full of such quandaries, just like the Jeep I’d discovered the day before, sticking out of a cliff–face. These were only the first two I’d discover, but as time went on, I’d find many more. To write of them all would fill this notebook and leave me no room to complete my story, so these examples will have to do. Suffice to say, I came across castoffs from my world and dozens of other worlds on an almost daily basis. Some were mundane. Others bizarre. Some were as strange to me as a cell phone would be to a caveman. Every day, the flotsam and jetsam of the universe washed up here in this strange dimension, just like I had.
We pressed on again, grateful to be clear of the stench. Kasheena and I continued our conversation as we hiked. I was full of questions about this place, and she was a patient, if bemused, guide. We spoke of the weather patterns and geography. I found that the Lost Level had deserts, snow–topped mountains, and even a vast sea. She did not know what was on the other side of the ocean, nor had she ever stood on its shores, but some among her tribe had. Seasons were something else she was unfamiliar with, and I soon surmised that the Lost Level’s various temperate zones remained that way pretty much year round. Another surprise was that her people had no concept of years or days. Some of that was attributable to the fact that they had no clear way to mark the passage of time. With an eternal sun dominating the sky, there was no transition of day to night. Understand this—not only did the sun not set; it never seemed to move at all. If the Lost Level was a planet, then it didn’t rotate. The sun kept its same place in the sky, regardless of our location or how much time had passed. As a result, her people marked age by the physical changes in things—the height of a tree, the size of an animal, the number of wrinkles on a face, or the grey in their hair.
I noticed that the constant daylight was already having a similar effect on me. I tried to calculate how much time had passed since I’d slept in the cave and found that I couldn’t. I wasn’t tired, but I was hungry. Ravenous, in fact. So, I was grateful when we stopped to rest a short while later. We sat under a stand of tall ferns next to a small, cold stream. I removed the police riot armor and helmet, and then washed the dirt and Anunnaki blood from me as best I could. Bloop scaled a nearby tree and returned with three large fruits the size of pineapples. They were round and red, with a soft, almost velvety skin, and the pulp inside had the greenish tint and tiny black seeds of a kiwi. I bit into one and found that it tasted like a grapefruit. When I was finished, I wanted more.
“Never eat more than one,” Kasheena warned me, smiling. “Too many of them will make your stomach cramp, and then the dragon will not be the only thing leaving its droppings on the trail. I have seen men and women who could not move for days because they ate too many and were in distress.”
“Good to know,” I said. “They give you the runs.”
“The runs?”
“Where I came from, we call those stomach cramps ‘the runs.’”
As if to punctuate this, Bloop stood suddenly and brushed the soil, twigs, and leaves from his fur. Then he walked over to a nearby tree and turned his back to us. Seconds later, a stream of pungent urine arced across the tree trunk. When he was finished, he returned to our spot and washed his hands in the stream. Then, he motioned at us to continue. Grunting, I got to my feet and drank from the creek. I donned my armor, and we started off again. I don’t know if it was some quality of the fruit, but I found myself possessed of a renewed energy and spirit.
We found more signs of the dragon’s passage a short time later. Several trees had been toppled into the trail—uprooted, rather than snapped off, as if something big had pushed them over. The bark was gouged with deep talon marks. I stood there gaping, stunned by the destruction, and trying to picture an animal big enough to have done such a thing. I was also curious as to why, but before I could ask Kasheena, Bloop sat his swords aside and pulled a small, bloody carcass from the undergrowth. Then, he held it up to the sunlight. It was some sort of mammal, similar to a squirrel, but of a type I certainly hadn’t seen back on Earth. I asked Kasheena what it was.
“It is a Slukick,” she said. “They live in communal nests in the treetops. The dragon was hungry.”
“If they live in a group, then where are the rest of them?”
“In the dragon’s belly. This one must have fallen to the ground and escaped its notice. We should not let it go to waste.”
“But we just ate not too long ago.”
“One cannot live without eating. When there is food, you should not let it go to waste, Aaron Pace. To do so is wrong.”
“You know, you can just call me Aaron.”
Kasheena frowned. “But is your name not Aaron Pace?”
“Yes, that’s my name, but it’s my full name. Where I come from, my friends just call me Aaron.”
Shrugging, Kasheena turned away. She motioned to Bloop, who without pause, raised the furry corpse to his mouth and bit into the exposed, bleeding flesh. He ripped a mouthful free, chewed thoughtfully, and passed the raw Slukick to Kasheena. I watched, revolted as those beautiful, full lips parted, and she did the same. The sounds she made as she chewed were even worse. Then she offered the raw carcass to me.
“Eat,” she insisted. Her mouth was stained crimson, and there was a tiny tuft of fur stuck to her chin. “We have had nothing but fruit. We need meat, as well.”
I waved her off. “No, thanks.”
“You do not eat meat?”
“Oh, I do. I just prefer to cook it first. It’s safer that way.”
“My people cook flesh with fire, as well. The job of fire tender is one of the most important in our village. He is tasked with insuring that the flame is never extinguished. But we are not in my village, and we have no means of starting a fire, and we need meat.”
Smiling, she took another bite. My stomach lurched as I watched her swallow. Then she licked the blood from her lips, pink tongue sliding and glistening, and my nausea gave way to infatuation once again.
“Okay,” I said, flipping up the visor on my helmet. “Good point. Can I have some?”
She handed me the carcass. I tried to ignore how sticky it was, or how the matted fur clung to my fingers. I also ignored the small insects buzzing around, attracted by the corpse. I closed my eyes, thought of sushi, and ate. The meat was tough and stringy, and it tasted terrible. I bit through a strand of gristle, chewed twice, and then swallowed. Finished, I opened my eyes and handed the Slukick back to Bloop.
“Here you go, buddy. It’s all yours.”
I thought I might throw up, but after a brief struggle, I managed to keep the meat down. The raw flesh felt like a ball of lead in my stomach.
“It is good,” Kasheena said, wiping her mouth. “Yes?”
I nodded, still struggling with my gorge. When I could speak again, I said, “I might open a chain of Slukick fast food restaurants if I ever make it back home.”
“I do not know what that means, but I suspect you are making fun of me.”
“No,” I said. “I’m not. I promise. Just making a joke. Let’s just say I think I’d prefer my Slukick cooked.”
When the meal was finished, we continued on. Occasionally, my stomach gurgled, still trying to decide how it felt about the meat I’d consumed. When I saw Bloop licking dried blood from his talons, my gorge rose again.
For a while, the trek was uneventful. Then we came across a muddy area where the game trail crossed a stream. Signs of the dragon’s crossing were apparent along the creek bank. Several massive footprints had been left behind in the soft mud. I marveled at them. Each print was almost as long as I was tall and were embedded several feet deep into the earth. Studying them, I learned that the creature had three toes on each massive foot.
After crossing the stream, Bloop suddenly became alert. His pointed ears twitched, and his nostrils flared. Without a sound, he darted off into the undergrowth and emerged a moment later with a concerned expression. He motioned at us to follow him, so we did. He led us through the foliage to a vast, flattened area where all of the plants had been crushed to the ground. It was obvious that something large had bedded down here, and recently.
“The dragon?” I asked.
Kasheena nodded. Meanwhile, Bloop crouched on his haunches, sniffing the air. The concerned expression remained. When he glanced back up at us, he put a finger to his lips, indicating silence. He stood slowly and motioned at the tree line.
“The dragon is close,” Kasheena whispered. “I cannot be sure, but I believe he is indicating that the scent is fresh.”
Bloop’s nostrils flared again. He growled, low and menacing, staring off into the distance. He clutched one sword in his left hand. His tail entwined around the hilt of the other, gripping it tightly. I placed my hand on his furry shoulder in a gesture of reassurance. His muscles were bunched tight, and he was trembling, but he didn’t push me away.
“Take it easy,” I said softly. “It will be—”
Before I could finish, a thunderous roar rocked the forest, shaking the treetops above us. The sound stunned me. I’ve heard jets taking off, stood next to the railroad tracks as a freight train barreled by, and was even front row center for a Motorhead and Sick of It All concert once, but that roar was the loudest thing I had ever heard.
Bloop sprang to his feet, nearly knocking me over. Kasheena cried out and raised her pistol. I was so startled that I dropped my sword. While I was fumbling to pick it up again, a second bellowing cry rang out. It was impossible for us to determine which direction it was coming from. The sound echoed through the trees, seeming to come from all sides at once.
After a third roar, we noticed a new sound. Bloop and Kasheena frowned, obviously unfamiliar with the noise, but I recognized it at once and was reminded of home. It was the sound of hydraulics—very large and powerful judging by how loud they were.
“We need to find cover,” Kasheena said, struggling to make herself heard over the cacophony.
“We’re pretty hidden right here,” I replied. “Maybe we should stay put.”
“We cannot hide in the beast’s lair. It could come back at any moment! Come, Aaron. We must find a better place.”
Bloop was apparently way ahead of her. Switching his second sword from his tail to his free hand, he bounded into the forest, pausing only to glance over his shoulder and motion at us to follow. We did, running along behind him. We crashed through the foliage. Vines and limbs whipped our faces and thorns pulled at our clothes and skin. As we fled, the roars and hydraulic sounds continued to buffet us. They were so loud that we couldn’t tell if we were getting closer to them or farther away. The volume was maddening, and I soon became disoriented. I don’t know how long we ran. It felt like an hour but it was probably only minutes. My chest burned from exertion, and my heart pounded in my throat.
Suddenly, Bloop skidded to a halt. I nearly crashed into him, but instead I darted to one side and immediately found myself tottering on the edge of a steep cliff. I cried out, arms flailing helplessly. Rocks fell over the edge and plummeted below. I felt something snake around my waist and yank me backward. I gave a frightened little cry. When I looked down, I realized that it was Bloop’s tail.
I breathed a big sigh of relief. “Thanks, my friend.”
“Bloop,” he responded with a nod.
I turned my attention back to the cliff. The slope had been hidden by thick vegetation, but now that I stood on its edge, I could see a deep, narrow valley below us. But the gorge wasn’t what caught my attention. What did were the two opponents who were fighting on the valley floor. I had seen many bizarre things since coming to the Lost Level, but it was at that moment that the full otherworldly strangeness of my situation hit me full fold. Below us, engaged in a fierce battle, were a Tyrannosaurus Rex and a giant robot.
The Tyrannosaurus looked like every picture I’d ever seen of one, but I was surprised by how lithe and quick the dinosaur was in real life. Its powerful muscles moved like snakes beneath its hide as it spun, twisted, and fought. It had a massive head, the weight of which was balanced by its long, heavy tail. Its back legs were huge, and its tiny forelimbs seemed small in comparison. Despite their diminutive size, however, they were still powerful. The beast used them to batter and claw at its opponent’s metallic hull.
The robot was vaguely humanoid, possessing a head, two arms and legs, two glowing red sensors where eyes would be on a human, and a rectangular slash of a mouth, but it stood even taller and broader than the dinosaur. Its metal body was tarnished and dented in places, and a large patch of rust ran up the back of one of its legs like a bad rash. There was writing on its broad chest plate, perhaps a manufacturer’s designation or a model number, but the characters and letters were utterly alien to me. Indeed, I doubted they’d have been recognizable to anyone from my Earth.
Trees swayed overhead as the two titans continued fighting. The sounds of their battle engulfed the valley, drowning out everything else. The dinosaur roared, grunted, snorted, and hissed. Its talons screeched on the robot’s hull like fingernails on a chalkboard. From inside the robot came the sounds of overworked hydraulics and gyros and the sonorous thrum of machinery. The two collided over and over again, exchanging fierce blows. Each strike reverberated through the landscape around them, sending rocks and tree limbs hurtling into the chasm below. It felt as if their conflict would rend the very landscape.
The Tyrannosaurus managed to catch the robot’s arm in its jaws, but when it bit down, the dinosaur succeeded only in breaking its own teeth. I thought after that the battle might be one–sided, but seconds later, the giant reptile succeeded in shattering one of the robot’s sensor eyes. Then, it lashed out with its tail and pivoted on its hind legs, swiveling and knocking the metallic monstrosity to the ground. The entire valley shook as the robot crashed to the earth. The Tyrannosaurus slashed at it with one three–toed foot, but the robot seized the appendage and flipped the dinosaur backward into the foliage. Trees splintered and were uprooted as the dinosaur fell, dislodging boulders and clouds of dirt that rained down upon both the Tyrannosaurus and its foe. The rocks banged against the robot’s hull, further denting it.
Both opponents rose slowly, circling one another. The dinosaur roared but sounded weaker than it had before, and it was bleeding from dozens of wounds. It was limping, and as its backside turned toward us, I saw why. A broken tree trunk jutted from its rump. Blood welled around the shaft, running down the beast’s leg. The Tyrannosaurus shook its head, as if trying to clear its vision, spraying foamy saliva all around.
The robot whirred and chugged, and a terrible grating sound came from somewhere deep inside of it. Then, black smoke began to seep from between its joints. It lurched forward unsteadily and then took a faltering step toward the panting, weakened Tyrannosaurus. Despite its wounds, the dinosaur grunted in defiance and planted its feet firmly in the mud. Its tail swept back and forth, smashing through the undergrowth. The damaged robot plodded closer toward it, but then a bright gout of flame erupted from the joints around its leg, followed by more black smoke. A second later, the light in its eyes went out, and it collapsed. The ground trembled once more at the impact. Tree limbs and leaves fell all around us. Rocks tumbled down the hill.
Suspecting that an explosion might follow, I motioned at my companions to get down, but they ignored me, mesmerized by the spectacle and carnage below. The dinosaur crept cautiously toward its fallen opponent, but the wind shifted, blowing the acrid smoke directly into the Tyrannosaurus’ face. Grunting, it turned away from the robot, lowered its head, and began to lick its wounds. It growled in frustration, unable to reach the broken length of tree stuck in its back. More blood flowed from around the edges of the trunk.
“We should leave,” I whispered. “It’s distracted right now. Injured.”
“But to reach my home,” Kasheena replied, “we must cross down into the valley below. To go around the valley will add at least an extra sleep to our journey and take us into regions even more dangerous than the one we travel through.”
I wondered what could be more dangerous than a giant killer robot and an angry, wounded Tyrannosaurus Rex, but it didn’t seem like the most opportune moment to ask. Kasheena motioned at Bloop and me to follow her. Then, while the dinosaur was still facing away from us and focused on its injuries, she began crawling backward on her hands and knees, away from the edge of the cliff. Bloop and I did the same, but at that moment, the wind shifted again. Heat billowed up out of the ravine, along with a cloud of acrid, oily smoke. Bothersome as it was at our location, I can only imagine how much more intense it was for the dinosaur. The injured creature turned toward the slope, and roared with surprise upon seeing us.
Despite its wounds, the Tyrannosaurus charged, loping toward us with clear intent. The glare in its eyes reminded me uncomfortably of the Anunnaki we had faced earlier. They’d had that same cold, soulless look. I imagined it was the same expression in a shark’s eyes, right before they attacked. Horrified, I realized that I’d become distracted, almost mesmerized by the terror rushing toward me. It was no longer limping. Perhaps shock or anger—or both—had enabled it to ignore its pain. Heedless of its injuries, it was clear that the dinosaur had only one thing in mind—devouring us.
With a cry, Bloop scrambled up a nearby tree, using his tail to clutch both of his swords and all four of his limbs to climb, and scaling it with a speed that belied his size. Kasheena followed him, but when it became clear that she wasn’t as agile as our furry companion, Bloop lowered his tail like a rope, dropped the swords, and encircled her waist. Kasheena gave a short, surprised squawk as he bore her up onto a limb. The two of them positioned themselves and then urged me to follow. I glanced back to the dinosaur and was dismayed to see that it had already clawed its way up the cliff. The monstrous head was already even with the ground, and I was only a few yards away from those snapping jaws, close enough that I could see the drool dripping from its massive teeth. The creature’s breath was foul—a hot, staggering miasma of rotten meat and that same reptilian musk that had clung to the Anunnaki. I quickly calculated that the beast would reach us before I could climb the tree. Furthermore, I was almost certain that even though it was injured, the enraged dinosaur could almost certainly topple our shelter.
