Through the Kisandra Prism (31 page)

Blodwyn had a grandstand view. The battle commenced. Surrounded, the Tyrannosaurus made the first attack. Picking up a lizard-man in its mouth it shook him, breaking his back and then threw the lifeless body aside. All the while iron-tipped spears and arrows embedded in its brightly colored body – adding another hue: blood red. Many of the arrows and spears over-shot the tyrannosaurus and hit the space-chariot, bouncing off with a metallic twang; she hoped the cold-blooded Lizard-men would not notice this fact!

Another Cold-blood fell victim to the dagger like teeth; but too late, now the giant lizard was hamstrung as the tendons at the back of its legs were cut through. It was the Queen that gave the killing thrust. The King of Lizards slowly began to fall, like some giant tree. Finally Tyrannosaurus’s great head fell to the blood covered sand with a dull thud and bounced just once.

The Queen then seemed to make a victory speech in a hissing voice:

‘This killer is the last of its kind here,’ announces Queen Raa, ‘the rest have moved,’ she pointed North towards modern day America. We will follow but first I will lay a clutch of eggs. For once I may get more daughters - not useless stunted sons with out fine tails – sissy sons who have to burn their meat. Now…I and my little-mother will feed first,’ the Reptile Queen gently stroked the small infant with a hooked talon.

‘Then we will hide our dead in the secret place.’ The skeletons of our race must never be found by those who follow us…. to hang up and stare at.’

(A single bone of a Malisaraptor or a Malis Afar has yet to be found by archeologists.)

Blodwyn watched as the Queen Malisaraptor opened up the carcass of the tyrannosaurus with tooth and talon; patiently she fed her spoilt daughter who bounced up and down in greedy anticipation on the choicest giblets, while her warrior sons kept their distance and lit fires: their mother Queen was dangerous and very bad tempered at feeding time.

Blodwyn noticed some of the Cold-bloods kept looking in her direction – how could this be – the space chariot was under cloak. Could they smell the engine of the space-chariot? Was the craft giving off some electrical field that the lizard-men could sense? The answer was simple: the x-nine fuel for cloaking was running out! The image of the space chariot was just beginning to flicker. She had been warned by Admiral Sebus not to over-use the cloaking device. Blodwyn cursed herself for not being more cautious. After all…what difference would it make if a prehistoric being saw her flying past; would the sighting appear in the papers the next day? Cloaking was only for her personal safety – she had squandered it. Now she really needed it to save her life. She cursed herself again. The image of the craft was now flickering like an old television set about to give out: she had been spotted!

‘Who’s heart pumps the fastest…

the hunter or the hunted?’

This the Oracle asks the Quibley Sage.

‘In my way of thinking, my lord’ answers the Sage,

‘tis the hunted, for it fears cruel death or the torturous cage’.

Blodwyn prayed nothing else was wrong with the space chariot; she had to get away from the lizard-men. If she thought these primitive Cold-bloods were going to fall on their knees in fear and worship the magical craft before them, she was wrong. The Queen Malisaraptor stopped feeding and looked directly at her: their eyes met! Blodwyn pressed the lift-off button, her heart palpitating; something was wrong… the space chariot was not responding! The space-chariot then shuddered and slowly began to rise: far too slowly.

Picking up her heavy spear the Reptile Queen threw it with all her might. Blodwyn sat transfixed by the tiny dot heading towards her with great velocity. The heavy iron-tipped spear hit the craft with a thump and embedded itself in the back of the space chariot between two telium plates; green liquid began to bleed from the engine.

‘I have wounded the insect creature!’ screams the Reptile Queen.

The Cold-bloods led by their Queen began running up the sand dune; it was the Reptile Queen that would reach her first; the space chariot slowly began to gain height. Blodwyn held her breath. The craft was only some fifteen feet from the sand when the big Queen leapt into the air to grab the craft, her claws scraping the telium shield and causing Blodwyn to wince. Iron tipped arrows and spears glanced off the craft without causing damage: but her heart sank when she realized she was not going to get very far!

The look on the Cold-bloods’ faces below her was not one of fear but of anger and envy: they wanted the power of flight. Blodwyn took the craft away in a straight line to put as much distance between her and the Cold-bloods; she just knew they were watching and would pursue her, these reptiles were clever: ambitious and determined.

‘Watch where the strange insect creature lands – look, it has lost much blood and is still bleeding,’ says the Reptile Queen of the Malisaraptors, looking down at the green spilled liquid in the sand. We must capture it and the insect being inside – did you see how ugly it was? I have always told you… there is insect life in the stars – we must learn their secrets.’

The Queen returned to her feast, her sons lit their fires and burnt their meat; they were in no hurry. For it was the practice of the Cold-bloods to give injured quarry time to weaken from loss of blood and allow their wounds to stiffen. Besides, as Cold-bloods, they had not eaten for a month, they would now feast. These reptiles were sure to follow Blodwyn; as sure as sunset follows sunrise. These hunters also liked to peruse their quarry when they were at their fighting temperature. Cold night was slowly leaving the underworld.

Blodwyn was now some four miles away, not a long distance where swift moving Cold-bloods operating at the right temperature are concerned. Soon she passed over a small river – later to become the mighty Amazon. Her heart sank when she saw it was shallow and would be no barrier to her pursuers. She began to feel the space chariot slowly losing power: “you stupid cow Blodwyn Jones!” she cursed herself again.

She landed with a bump and a shower of sand. She surveyed her new surroundings. Ahead was a rocky ridge. It was now vital to distance herself from the space-chariot. Putting on her rucksack she carried as much of the dates and honey as possible; the Sisling carried the barley sugars. Much had to be left behind. All the pollen toffee had been eaten.

The afternoon sky ahead was now darkening with heavy storm clouds and a chilly wind was blowing in her face; she had to find a hiding place that provided shelter, the cold wind and fear made her shiver. After a long and tiring walk she reached a rocky ridge. Blodwyn could see large ferns growing between the great rocks. She looked behind; her tracks were plainly visible in the soft sand; she had traveled too far to go back and obliterate them before darkness. Hopefully the coming storm would conceal the direction of her passage. She began checking the small caves and large crevices to find shelter; sending in the little Sisling just in case some creature was resident.

‘It smells in there,’ was all the little Ling could report.

‘Look,’ says Blodwyn, ‘you are not an inspector for the Welsh Tourist Board, we just need somewhere to shelter and hide for the night…not a two week holiday.’

Eventually she noticed an entrance that was hidden behind a clump of large ferns and squeezed in; it was ideal. There were two levels inside; the top level had a ledge with a fissure just big enough to see outside. Leaving all her food and equipment inside she began cutting fern fronds. She made sure they were well away from her intended hiding place so as not to give her position away. It was now very cold – a biting wind froze her to the bone. Lighting and thunder flashed and vibrated her surroundings. The Sisling ferried the fronds into the small hideout. Large cold drops of rain began to fall. Once inside she then started blocking the entrance of her small crevice with rocks as a wind break and to keep out anything undesirable.

As darkness began to fall the full force of the storm could be felt, lightening gave her surroundings an eerie look, visible through her peep hole. In the snug gloom Blodwyn placed all the fern fronds on the rock ledge and made a soft bed. Climbing into her sleeping bag she was soon warm and cozy and watched the violent prehistoric storm rage outside. The little Sisling got in with her.

She could relax for the moment, the Cold-bloods would stay close to their fires under shelter; cold and wet were not to their liking, it made them slow and lethargic. Despite the trauma of the day she was hungry. Young spring dates, then bread and wild honey were her supper; she gave Boochi two barley sugars.

‘I like milk,’ announces the little Sisling looking at Blodwyn chest.

‘Well don’t look at me!’ she says, ‘I am not a jersey cow.’

‘Will you have milk tomorrow?’ asks the Sisling.

‘Look, female Terasils do not produce milk on request or on any given pre-arranged date… or on commercial demand, now no more talk of milk…I have more important problems to think about… go to sleep.’

Blodwyn looked down at the little Sisling; it had already fallen asleep during her short lecture. Through the fissure she checked outside. Lighting flashes illuminated the dark night showing up a herd of large two legged duck-billed dinosaurs hurriedly passing, also seeking shelter. The prehistoric scene brought back the true realities of her dire predicament – what will the rising sun bring – tragedy? Try as she may she could not think of a solution to her problems; she gazed up at the roof of her dry shelter illuminated by the lighting flashes: something big was moving on the roof directly above her head! The movements were not natural to any warm blooded mammal. She preyed it was not a giant spider! She would be trapped.

Blodwyn searched for her torch getting ready at the same time to vacate the cave, storm or no storm. The torch beam revealed a small colony of tiny, winged dinosaurs that were beginning to stir. (These were the distant ancestors of bats.) They were certainly not there when she had entered: eureka! There must be a small entrance somewhere overhead; a small entrance that possibly could be made bigger in the morning. Blodwyn fell asleep, feeling optimistic.

But dawn and the rising sun brought disappointment; she would need a pneumatic drill to widen the hole in the cave roof. She would have to think of something else.

Several miles away the Cold-bloods arose as the sun warmed their scaly, striped bodies; they put out their fires and faced the sun. Soon they were at their fighting temperature and ready for the hunt. Led by their reptile Queen they moved at a jog in extended line, like beaters on a pheasant shoot.

These distant ancestors of the Malis Afar were determined to find the strange insect being from the stars. The small river that was later to become the mighty Amazon was soon crossed. The storm had wiped out all of Blodwyn’s tracks; but it was of little use as the abandoned space-chariot was now in view; the spear still embedded. The lazy jog soon turned into a run. Reaching the craft they approached cautiously.

‘It is dead Mother Queen – you have killed it!’

‘Idiot…this is not alive – the ugly creature inside was – it has now gone. Many moons ago I saw something bigger land here… small beings with big eyes came out and picked up stones. When they saw me they quickly left, back to the stars, traveling as fast as lighting.’

‘What will we do to the insect creature when we capture her Mother

Queen?’ asks another warrior.

‘We kill it – did you see how ugly it was… not beautiful like your mother?’

‘Why kill it mother?’ asks another.

‘Because, fool – the insect will talk to the stars – to others of its kind who will come to kill us. Now carry this iron dragonfly– we must not lose it – it has secrets.’ (To Queen Raa, only reptiles and insects lived in her prehistoric world.)

Four lizard-men pick up the space-chariot. The hunt continues. On reaching the rocky ridge the hunters stop and scan for clues.

‘Look! Ferns have been cut recently – the creature is here.’ They begin to thoroughly check every small cave.

‘The insect is in here!’ They had found Blodwyn’s cave. ‘Shall I go in and catch it…will it bite mother Queen?’ asks a warrior. ‘Get out of the way you sissy!’ Screams the raptor Queen, ‘I will show you how to deal with the insect.’ Raa puts her head into the entrance and tries to force her way in… but her hips are too big: she becomes stuck. ‘Help me you fools,’ she screams.

‘Shall we push mother Queen?’ they ask.

‘No you idiots – that will make it worse,’ spits the reptile Queen – pull me out.’ It is plain to see all her warrior sons are intimidated by their short-tempered mother; some begin pulling at one of her powerful hind legs, afraid to touch her prized tail. Pull my tail you fools,’ she screams. Four of her sons comply in a tentative fashion. ‘Harder… harder…Oooouch… not that hard you idiots.’ She is pulled free. The vain reptile queen inspects her tail: ‘I have lost a scale – imbeciles! Bring wood – we will burn the creature out!’ screams the raptor Queen.

Much wood is gathered and pushed into the cave then dry tinder; the fire is lit by striking flints. The cave sucks in the flames like a pot-bellied stove. The heat is so great that the Cold-bloods are forced to move back.

“Nothing could survive in that cave,” Blodwyn says to herself as she looked down from above; she had thought it wise to move further up the ridge earlier that morning, before the sun warmed the cold-bloods.

Suddenly an orange streak split the cloudless sky – the space-chariot disintegrated – the Galla Qualls were back! She looked up; an armed frigate hovered above the ridge. Another burst of proton cannon over the heads of the Cold-bloods was all that was needed before they fled. Back over the river and into cover they.

‘You see,’ the raptor Queen announces between deep breaths. The insect being had spoken to the stars last night – did you see their power – their lighting. One day … all will tremble when our names are mentioned – one day we will rule the stars!’

‘I am so sorry about the space-chariot!’ Blodwyn apologies back on the Time-ship.