Planet Of No Return

For Ravn it was an unwelcome shock. One instant he had been ready to sing a victory song, having run so far and so fast that he knew that he could never be caught. When he looked back and saw the Hunter beginning to chase him he laughed, going faster himself in order to open the distance. But when he looked again the Hunter had halved the distance — and was still coming on. Ravn wailed in despair and ran, but he could not escape. Heavy footsteps pounded close behind him while the trees were still too distant. His lungs ached, his heart was bursting — a heavy hand fell onto his shoulder and he shrieked aloud and fell.

Brion felt no pity as he looked down at the old man writhing and wailing in the grass. He felt his heart beating strongly after the run, and with each pulsation the stump of his amputated finger throbbed with pain. An uncomfortable reminder that this grovelling creature was the very one who had amputated it. Anger cut through Brion’s pain as he saw that same finger around the filthy creature’s neck, saw the man clutch to the necklace of bones with both hands as he lay there screeching with self pity. Holding on to it as if it gave him strength.

When he saw this, Brion knew what he had to do. He remembered that the ragged lizard skin clothing and crude stone weapons were the only artefacts that these people appeared to have. Other than this necklace. It must be valued highly, or was some kind of honour to wear. Good! In that case he was the one who was going to have it.

Ravn wailed even louder when Brion tried to take the necklace from him, clutching to it desperately with both hands. But Brion’s strength could not be resisted. He seized Ravn’s wrists with his mighty hands and squeezed, numbing them instantly so that the fingers lost their strength and simply fell open. Brion pulled the necklace off over Ravn’s head, then put it slowly on himself. The old man’s waiting gave way to screamed entreaty.

“Mine — give me! I am the Ravn, mine to wear, mine …”

He spoke in his own language and Brion found that he could understand it easily enough. The Heuristic Language Programmer had done its work well. Brion stepped back and placed his hand on the necklace, speaking slowly in the same language.

“It is mine now. I am Brion. While I wear it I am the Ravn.” If Ravn were a title as well as a name this should make sense to the man. And it did. The screaming stopped and Ravn’s eyes narrowed with anger.

“Only one Ravn with the people. Me. Mine.” He extended his hand with a demanding gesture. Brion took the necklace off again but did not release it. “Is this yours?” he asked. “Mine. Give me. Belongs to the Ravn.” “What is a Ravn?”

“l am. I tell you to give it. You are rotten meat, you are shit, you are woman …”

Brion casually took the old man’s neck in one hand and tightened his grip, pulling the man up towards him at the same time, until their faces almost touched. He growled as he spoke.

“You curse me. You do not curse Brion. Who could kill you in an instant by making tighter his fingers — like this.”

Ravn’s body flapped about in agony; he could not breathe or talk and death was very close.

Brion shook him about like a rag, then waved the necklace of bones before his face. “You will tell me what I want to know. Then you will have this back. You understand me? Say yes. Say yes!”

“Yes …” Ravn gasped. “Yes.”

Brion did not let the sensation of victory show in his face. The anger was still in his voice when he dropped Ravn to the ground and sat beside him. His questions were imperative and demanded an answer. Ravn answered them, as best he could, concealing nothing. After a great amount of time had passed his voice became hoarse and his words stumbled one over the other. It was more than enough for a beginning, Brion thought. He was about to return the necklace when he noticed his own amputated finger threaded into place among the bones. It was a part of him — and it must have had some important meaning to these people or they would not have taken it in this manner. Well they weren’t going to get it back. Brion seized the dry flesh of the thing and tore it from the necklace.

“This is mine forever. The rest you can have for now.” Brion hurled the necklace to the ground. “We will now go back to my place. You will talk to me again whenever I wish it.”

Ravn slipped the necklace over his head with trembling hands, then pushed himself to his feet. All rebellion had vanished. Brion knew that from now on the old man would do everything that he was told. As soon as the other’s back was turned Brion let the desiccated finger slip to the ground, happy to be rid of the thing. It had served its purpose.

“Woman, we will eat!” Brion called out in the native language as he led his exhausted prisoner back to their camp. Lea flared her nostrils at his words and tone of voice.

“Does this male chauvinist pig act mean that we are finally getting somewhere with Old Dirty here?”