The Lost Level (9 page)

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.