Lost Change

Chapter 15

I didn't see any more Votak after that.

I didn't see anybody at all for months, actually. Susie and I just managed on our own. I found a river and settled near it. It had plenty of fish to feed Susie with, and a healthy grove of apple trees was a short flight away from it. The dirt wasn't hard and it was a simple matter to dig burrows and dens for us to live in. There was plenty of sunlight to bathe in, shade to relax under when either of us grew too warm, a plentiful source of water, and plenty of sticks and pinecones to serve as makeshift toys for us. It wasn't perfect, but it was enough. We managed.

Winter came and the temperature dropped to worrying levels... but Susie helped keep me warm through it. I also learned how to use the fire that the encyclopedia had hinted at, and I kept our burrows warm by flaming rocks and rolling them down into the dry chambers. The fish grew scarce, but even when it snowed, the river didn't freeze over. I discovered I was able to swim well enough to chase down the fish hiding near the bottom... though the water was still mind numbingly cold, and I used my fire to heat up several rocks to rest on while Susie ate the dinner I had caught. When I couldn't find enough fruits or berries I would eat some of the fish too... but I learned very quickly that dragonet stomachs and tongues greatly preferred fruits to meats.

Other creatures came with the winter. Some were the usual wild animals I expected to find on Earth, ranging from dangerous predators like coyotes and lynxes that Susie and I had to defend ourselves against, to annoying nuisances like squirrels or rabbits that tried to steal any food I managed to stash.

Some of the creatures were ones that had no place on Earth. The strange encyclopedia gave me information on them sometimes, and other times it had no explanation for the alien creatures staring back at me, but my method of dealing with them was always the same. Run quickly, and run far.

Spring came again, and with it came buildings. I began to glimpse the Kymari - enormous green-skinned aliens - and I stayed well away from them. The encyclopedia informed me they were unfriendly to other creatures, especially sentient ones, and would drive off or kill any they encountered in their territory. I suspected the encyclopedia was biased against the aliens, but... I still didn't feel safe risking it. Maybe they wouldn't outright attack me if I revealed myself to them, and maybe the encyclopedia was wrong... or maybe they were hostile, and the encyclopedia was right. They had driven away the Votak after all, or at least as completely as I could tell.

The brilliant beam of light was still vivid in my memories.

They built a city around me... but for some reason they left several swaths of forest inside their city. I was confused by that decision at first, but as it became obvious they weren't going to level those forests, I put it down to a desire to have pleasant stretches of nature breaking up the urban sprawl of the city, and found a quiet place near the center of the 'park' to make a den for myself and Susie.

I thought about leaving entirely, and finding a place outside their new city entirely... but it would be hard to guide Susie through too much of the alien construction without being noticed. On top of that, the Kymari were at least chasing away the strange alien predators that I had run into, and on more than a few occasions I got to observe their weapons in action.

The aliens made a lot of noise and they had a very distinctive smell, so they were extremely easy to avoid and hide from. Aside from hawks or eagles that paid far too much attention to me than I was comfortable with, but which were usually too nervous about Susie to bother me, I actually felt much safer inside the Kymari park.

Susie was already nervous whenever the giants were nearby, and it only took a few frightened whistles to train her to avoid even the smell of the large creatures. I simply took a little extra care in picking where I would sing the Morning Song, and as far as I knew the Kymari never noticed me. The park was miles wide, and held countless trees and animals. As far as I knew, they had no idea that Susie or I were there.

I stopped wearing the watch when summer came, and I stored it in the den alongside Susie's leash. I just wasn't as comfortable wearing it anymore. It got a lot of light scratches with some of my explorations and rough-housing with Susie, and while my scales handled that just fine, the watch was beginning to show signs of wear and tear. For all I knew the leash, watch, and Susie's collar were the only remaining artifacts of human civilization left in existence. I didn't want to risk damaging it, and I was finding less and less need to check the time as I adapted to living in nature.

Winter came again, and great walls rose in the distance to surround the city. Small aircraft flew over the walls, which I assumed brought supplies and people in and out, but they didn't bother me either. I began seeing hazy 'heat mirages' in the park, which the other animals seemed oblivious towards... but they were blatantly obvious to me, and they smelled strongly of the Kymari. They were easy to avoid, too.

Susie did well on a diet of fish, and my body seemed well adapted to catching them. Occasionally I would hunt down a squirrel or another small animal to feed the border collie, but I still felt nervous about encouraging the larger animal to eat anything that was the same size as me.

She kept me warm in the winter nights and kept me entertained in the days. I would start the day dancing in the Morning Song while she chased along beneath me, and I would end the day falling asleep on her side in our den, falling asleep to the gentle rise and fall of her chest. She stayed healthy, and I noticed that fleas avoided her - I suspected my dry body and strange blood acted as a repellent to the pests - but as time wore on I noticed her becoming less energetic in the mornings, and found her getting tired sooner and sooner when we played.

Another year passed... and another... and another, until the watch told me that a little over eight years had passed since the day I had woken up in the laboratory.

We had survived.