His thirst was
overwhelming. Was the hawk trying to tell him something? He looked up at the
stars, and rested for a few moments. It was gotten very quiet, and he was just
settling in, slowly drifting off, when he heard it. He thought he might be
dreaming, and he squirmed and shook himself, rubbing his eyes, then listened.
There! Again! It was the sound of a steady patter of drops, reminding him for
all the world of a faucet that hadn't been shut off completely. Was it nearby?
His heart was beating powerfully, and he fumbled in his pocket, managing to
pull out a small flashlight he had been playing with in the car. He turned it
on, got up, and tried to locate the source of the sound.
He still couldn’t shake
the thought that he was dreaming. Maybe it was because he had been
concentrating so intently on climbing the hill and not slipping that he had
failed to notice that the outcropping where the rocks were located was
surrounded by incongruous green vegetation. He had seen it, but somehow it just
hadn't registered, with his eyes fixed on the hawk perched on the boulder. You
should have looked, especially when there was more light!, he chided himself. Maybe
if he hadn't of been so tired, he would have noticed. Everything was otherwise
so dry out here, and yet, as he thought about it in the fast fading light, it
was obvious that there was something different on this side of the hill. The
light was dim, but the vegetation seemed more profuse, was taller, and the stand
of trees more incongruous. It could only point to a source of water. He just hoped
that he didn’t stumble across a snake or skunk or some other animal as he searched
for the source. Careful, careful!, he urged himself. He knew that the dripping
sound had to be close, and he was so desperately thirsty he knew he couldn’t
wait until the morning.
He didn't have to look
far. With the powerful beam of his flashlight, he saw the small stream of water
emerging from between the two boulders and falling off to the side, dripping on
a third before it run into the muddy dirt around the base. He felt exultant,
like a discoverer who had made the find of a lifetime, stumbling across a prize
that couldn't have been more precious because of his desperation. Night had
fallen by now, but in the light he could see the water sliding along the
surface of the boulder like a gleaming translucent sheen of crystal. As he got
closer, he wanted to leap for joy once again. Could it be true? Could he be
this lucky? There was what seemed to be a shallow bowl on the upper rock, and
water had pooled there.
Without any hesitation
he thrust he face down and began to sip. He gave not another thought to the
possibility that the water might not be clean, or that there might be insects
or larvae or algae, or that the water might be salty or dangerous. He didn't
care. It was liquid, and he was so desperately dehydrated he needed to drink
something. He sipped quickly, stopping when he had a coughing fit, but quickly
returning to his desperate task. And he felt rewarded. It was water, cool,
precious, painful water. He wished he could have shared this moment with his
mother.
Something within him
told him not to overdo it. Stop, count to ten, don't drown in this water, too
much when you’re so dehydrated might do you harm. It was hard, but he forced
himself to stop. Somewhere a long time ago, he had heard that people who were
dehydrated or had starved should not drink nor consume too much food when
relief was provided. It was dangerous, and their bodies could not deal with the
sudden ingestion. They needed to pace themselves, give their bodies a chance to
receive the new bounty, to get acclimated once again. Too much, and they would
go into shock. After stopping he realized that, indeed, his stomach did feel painfully
bloated. But his throat and mouth and lips felt much better, and in general, he
felt hopeful.
He next splashed some
water on his face and over his head. He knew he had accumulated quite a bit of
grime, and almost certainly, part of this grime consisted of dried blood stains
on his face, neck, and arms. He had been bleeding after the incident, and had
done his best to clean himself when he left the truck and his mother behind. While trekking along the scrub and up into the
hills, he had been bothered mercilessly by flies and mosquitoes, but it knew it
would be too painful to scrub away the dried blood, knowing that the scabs
might be torn away and provoke new bleeding. The grime, then, grew “petrified”,
and he laughed. Had someone seen him lately, he would have made a shocking
sight.
The stars were coming
out in full force, and a few feet away, the hawk left out a soft cry. He turned
toward it and, softly, mouthed a silent thank you.
---------------------
He was back at his
desk in the middle of the night, doing what he always did at night after
finishing his homework and talking to his mom, which was tapping on his
keyboard. Just a few more keystrokes, a few more numbers. Carefully he tweaked
the parameters of the computer program so that the temperature gradients
matched up with the desired values. He had to have everything ready for when he
connected with his friends at the set time. On the screen, there was an
arctic landscape in soft light, with snow blanketing the ground and the far-off
trees of what looked to be a primeval forest. These trees seemed almost to shudder
in the cold, and up above, the clouds had gathering in an ominous front that
portended another fierce storm. He
couldn’t see the movement of the roiling front, however, because the program
was on pause mode. Far off, he saw the shape of two gigantic mastodons, caught
in mid amble trying to find shelter. He wondered if they would make it to the
forest.
Up above, in a patch
of clear evening sky that would soon be blotted out by the storm, he saw a
sickly yellow moon. He wondered if it might be stranded too, unable to outrun
the clouds and preparing for the worst. As he panned his view, he took notice
once again of his companions, two stocky humans with snow-encrusted beards
wearing heavy coats of fur. They were both frozen in motion, of course, because
the program was still on pause mode, but he could almost imagine their thoughts
as they stood silently next to him. They both had spears, and one of them was
also holding on to a sharp rock. Upon
closer inspection he corrected himself. It was a primitive but nonetheless intimidating
dagger, filed from a horn that might have come from another mastodon. They were
all wary, of course, looking out in expectant stillness as they stood at the
entrance of a cave.
With the program on pause,
he took stock of this situation. It was a careful balance that he was loathe to
disturb. Was there something hiding just out of sight of the cave? Something
told him that of course there was, in these scenarios that were crafted by him
and his group of friends, it was best to always be prepared for the
unpredictable. To relax and let one’s guard down was to court disaster. The
game was meant to test their powers of
concentration, and their ability to resolve unforeseen problems. There was always
a healthy amount of competition involved.
He struggled to
remember some of the possible threats in this scenario. The wolves, of course,
were a formidable challenge, as were bears and startled moose that could turn
on them unpredictably. Of course, with a storm approaching, they would all be
looking for shelter, but they would have to be incredibly desperate to venture
into a cave inhabited by humans, one that reeked of their presence. Could they
be so incredibly hungry that they might take the risk? He remembered as well
that they had programmed this scenario to incorporate the possibility of
incursions by a rival clan, one that was almost as fearsome as they were, and
had the advantage of numbers. The more he thought about it, the more he became
convinced that it had to be hunters, the ones that used slings and carried with
them sharpened horns that they used to jab the exposed parts of their enemies,
most often, their faces.
The green light on the
terminal box blinked steadily. He debated whether he should go solo for the
next twenty minutes while his friend joined him. Why not? He could always return
to the agreed upon moment when they were ready to resume the scenario. The
program was able to simulate certain scenarios without the participation of all
the programmers, and indeed, it had shown quite a bit of initiative and
creativity. It had been loaded with certain personality profiles that were
quite convincing in their behavior, modules that were almost autonomous.
Whether or not they were self-aware was a debate that seemed to be
never-ending, but their widespread use had forestalled any possible attempt by
ethicists to ban them.
He inserted his hands
in the electronic nodules. In this game, he had to rely on two controllers that
were shaped like oversized gloves, and which were filled with a gel that gave his
hands the feeling of textures, temperature and impacts that his avatars
encountered in the program. He also wore a form-fitting virtual suit that gave
his body the same sensations, but with a little less of the crucial sensitivity
that was reserved for his hands. With a quick movement of his fingers, he
activated the control that lowered the virtual helmet. Matrix technology had
taken a giant leap since the early 2000s.
No longer was he
looking at a screen, he now felt enveloped and transported. It was instantaneous,
but not alarming nor painful in any way. He started the program, and he saw a
running green digital clock start counting away up to his left. To his right,
the sensors indicated that there were no other active players participating in
this scenario. He was playing with the personality modules loaded into the
program. He took a moment, and savored
the sight of his breath trailing away in long puffs. It was cold, and he was
grateful for his fur suit.
To his side his
companions moved quietly. The wind was howling fiercely outside, hunting in its
own fashion. They would have to be careful not to venture out, but they would
also have to guard the entrance way to the cave for what could possibly be
several days while the storm passed. They had done it before, but the waiting
was always difficult. They knew that there were always challenges that were
never far off, and he waited for the avatars of his friends to come online.
He patted the head of
the magnificent German Shepard that stood next to him. Outside, the world gathered
in readiness.
------------
------------
His avatar took a
tentative step forward. Virtual world or not, it still hurt like hell when he
made mistakes, the suit made sure of that. Sometimes he carried with him the
memory of those fatal mistakes years after, a sort of dread and hung about him
like a cloud. He knew he had to be careful, but at the same time, he felt compelled
to follow the movement of the mastodons out in the landscape, half a mile away.
They seemed to be harried, somehow, and for creatures of that size, it didn’t
seem right.
His dog started
barking fiercely, and he immediately withdrew inside. What was it! A wolf? A
moose looking for shelter? An ursulatag, that cross between an bear and a stag
that they had concocted in a feverish attempt to create ever-more dangerous
predators in a world that was like but also unlike their own, a fleshy
battering ram of immense power? What scared him the most was the prospect,
however, that it might be a scout from the other tribe. They were more numerous
than his group, and much more cruel. They had fled from the north, and they
were also desperate.
Death could come
suddenly in these scenarios, for they were filled with dangers. That was part
of the thrill, programming habitats with all sort of wild and unpredictable parameters,
those that challenged them constantly. He waited uneasily, touching the flank of
his dog, making him quiet down. They did not need any noise at this point. He
trusted the dog to know that there was something out there, beyond the edge of
the cave, but it was best to settle back and create a defensive perimeter as
planned. By now, in the visual display that was integrated into his normal
eyesight, he noticed that all his friends had come on line. This meant that his
avatar companions were now inhabited, and he looked quickly to his left. JC
acknowledged him briefly, as did Sonia. To his right, Neiwal and Junko and Lee
were crouching in wary silence. Behind him he was sure he would find the last
two, Ana and Bilma.
Beside him, the dog
tensed up once again. It was the only dog of its kind in this world, and it
gave them an advantage. There were wolves, but no other dogs like his German
Shepard, and it gave them a much-needed advantage. As he looked out intently,
they heard a rock come tumbling down from above and land with a heavy thud near
the opening of the cave. A few minutes later, a group of rocks came crashing
down noisily. It wouldn’t be long before it began to snow once again. There was
just the barest possibility that these might have been dislodged by some heavy
animal, climbing down the face of the hill, waiting to reach the cave. But
somehow he doubted that. This display had all the signs of intimidation. They
would have to be careful not to be drawn out.
The wind was howling
outside by now. It would soon be bitterly cold outside, and whatever was out in
the open would have to find shelter quickly or risk freezing. Even their heavy
fur coats seemed inadequate for the job, and when he looked at JC, he saw a
rictus of suffering in the avatar’s face. He could hardly feel his own hands, but
he remained quiet, scanning the opening of the cave. They had lined it with a
barrier of large heavy boulders that they had put into place with much effort,
in such a way that whatever came in would have to negotiate a tricky way
forward, squeezing between them only to be drawn into open areas where they
could be picked off by another group of defenders. They had a third line of
defense as well, with a deep lined pit with a drop of 15 feet. The rest of
their group was poised behind this last line, crewed by avatars to which they
could switch with a code word or a specific hand gesture. This was the only way
they could crew this pack of virtual humans.
Then, surprisingly,
for the next twenty minutes, they heard heavy pounding noises. It was clearly
an unnatural noise, far too regular he thought to be that produced by any large
animal. More rocks and boulders fell down in front of the cave opening. Were
they pounding the rocks from up above to dislodge them? But this hardly made
sense, for the pounding noise was not coming from above, but from the side of
the opening. Maybe they were breaking stones in order to have a supply to wield
them against his group? It might very well be that they were intending on using
slings to hurl rocks at them, but this seemed hardly a strategy that might
prove effective, for obvious reasons. They were wearing heavy fur cloaks, after
all, and these cloaks would provide all the insulation and protections they
might need from thrown rocks. He wondered if they might have overestimated the
capabilities of their rivals. Slung rocks seemed hardly a match for arrows and
weighed spears. The pounding subsided, and there was an interval of silence.
He thought he smelled
something burning. Ana hissed to his right, and Bilwar moved tentatively forward.
Fire was a dead-giveaway. Whatever strategy they were planning on using to
attack, they were clearly not going to rely on brute force. Fire would be a
fearsome weapon, especially in a cave with limited ventilation. They had best
be prepared for an attempt to smoke them out. A choking and blinding smoke
could be fearsome, and they would have to be quick at smothering whatever it
was they might throw at them in an attempt to set the fires that they clearly
seemed intent on setting.
He readied his crude
bow, and gave the signal to wait to his companions. They were not to reveal
their positions nor fire until the group was plainly visible. They might be
facing twenty or thirty hunters, and they were only six, and with the dog,
seven, to repulse them. But they had the advantage. They had prepared, and they
knew enough to anticipate the strategies the other group might employ.
They then heard
something being wheeled near the opening of the cave. When he saw it, he felt a
surge of fear. It was a primitive but very sturdy cart, made of wood branches
that had been tied together with what seemed to be strips of the fibrous guaneri
vine that were found deep in the forest. It was a notoriously tough vine, and
seemed to resist catching fire. The cart was massive, and was mounted on what
appeared to be a large sleds. It was about ten feet wide, and clearly, there was
what appeared to be a torch concealed within. How they could have maneuvered it
down the hillside was something he could hardly imagine. It was exciting on one
level, for it demonstrated a level of creativity that he found profoundly
appealing, but by the same token, it set his heart to pounding. It must clearly
have been brought over in pieces, he told himself, and it was meant as their
own barricade, to shield those who would try to enter the cave, and to provide
them with a store of weapons from which they would draw as needed.
He looked to his left,
and saw JC with a heavy grin on his face. He looked to his left, and motioned
for Junko and Bilma to creep forward as without being seen. They were not to
shoot at the cart until they saw what it held. For all he knew, it might have
all kind of unpleasant and painful surprises in store. He looked at Sonia, and
told her to prepare to cut the rope at his signal. They had a heavy boulder
tied to a rope, waiting to swing out and crash against what might be readying
to enter the cave. Just wait a few more minutes until the cart was slid into
position. They could hardly know what to expect when the boulder swung down
with terrible force. He tensed as the cart reached position, and prepared to
give the signal.
---------------------
He mother was far from
a garrulous person. They both preferred weighted and suggestive silences, and
both of them concurred that there was poetry and clarity to be gained when they
managed to eliminate distractions. But for the past forty minutes, his mother
had been talking to someone over the phone while pacing from one room to the
next. Why was she taking so long, and why was she moving around so much, being
so systematic, going from room to room?
When she had arrived
earlier that afternoon, and after a quick dinner, she had called her sister
Clarissa. He heard her ask about the cabin in the mountains, telling her that
it was best if she start thinking about buying supplies to store up there for
at least a few months. She was trying to convince her sister of something,
because at times the tone of their conversation would turn angry, but then she
would take a deep breath, and start once again explaining something the gist of
which he couldn’t quite capture. He heard her hang up, telling her that she
couldn’t tell her all the reasons, but to trust her, it was urgent, and it was
part of the priviledged information she had obtained from her work at the
institute. At the mention of the institute, his interest peaked, and he tried
to pay attention, but by now the conversation had concluded. Next, she called
another friend, Rob from what she could determine, and asked if he was going
through the checklist they had prepared. They then started talking about data,
about ionospheric fluctuations, and about magnetic resonances as detected at
certain locations. As she heard the information, she seemed to grow a little
more frantic. She was quite evidently going from room to room, and doing
something. She turned on the tub and had it filling with water, and she was
quite evidently gathering things in the living room. At a certain point, she
came into his room, just opened his door without knocking, and handed him a
flashlight while continuing her conversation on the phone. She then
systematically unplugged every electrical appliance in the room. Intent as he
was on listening in to her conversation, he had moved away from his computer,
and she unplugged it as well, and threw a blanket over the screen. He gave her
a quizzical look.
“Honey, please get a
few pails and fill them with water, okay? And carry this flashlight with you.
There’s a storm coming, a serious one, and we might have another incident like
the one that hit Elben Fork two weeks ago. Let’s try to prepare in case it hits
here, okay?”
At the mention of
Elben Fork, his stomach sank. Could she be serious? There had been a rash of
incidents like this one in the last two months in surrounding states, and they
were serious. Scientists had no idea what might be happening, but by now, a
protocol had been established for how to prepare for such an eventuality. This
was serious business.
-------------
