A human, an older teen, screamed in terror when the mix of avian and reptilian havenworlders found them. They were thin, alone on that barren rock, injured, and shaking. They very gently helped the youth learn they were safe, no longer alone, and deserved kindness. -- Anon Guest
Hal knew that they were lucky to survive. They were also rather lucky that they had had an obsession with surviving seemingly impossible accidents. How to survive on a desert island. How to survive a welding impact with an alien vessel. How to survive a marooning in hyperspace.
How to survive a crash on a hostile planet, as it turned out, was the most useful scenario that they'd ever fantasised their way through. which was a conglomeration of information. As well as absorbing the cliff notes of stone-age technological skills.
There was a lot that could be accomplished with sticks and stones, mud and string. All four, and the ability to weave. It was a lot faster when one had scrap remnants from a Cheese Grater Landing on the surface of the world.
Clean water had to be kept clean. Dirty water could be used to make mud or mix up clay. Vines could become string. Sticks could become anything when bonded with string. Especially once used with notches carved with something sharp.
A condensation still could also help make clean water out of dirty water.
Testing food for edibility required a scanner, but the surviving scanners would only work for two minutes if cobbled together with wire and left to charge in full sunlight for all the day. Hal had the entire rig on top of their food storage's thatched roof, and a panel cover to keep the intermittent rain off the exposed wires and circuits.
It all went into Hal's catchment pot and then into the condensation still because there was no such thing as being too careful.
Keeping notes was tricky. All the plant life that wasn't potentially edible made absolutely atrocious paper. Hal had to scratch drawings onto some sheltered sandstone. Most of their day was scouting increasingly large areas for increasingly small amounts of food.
Then the aliens landed.
Had had had the hope that they were friendly, given that the others in the ship had spoken of friendly aliens they could trade with. But none of the creatures spilling out of the craft looked like any kind of creature Hal had heard about.
They weren't birds or fluffy little creatures. They looked like lizards. Lizards big enough to eat Hal.
On one hand, they were dangerous predators that could be the end of everything. On the other, they did not come all the way to this world without supplies. Hal kept low, hiding in the foliage. Watching to see where the supplies were. Waiting for an opportunity.
Hal learned quickly what the aliens' food packages looked like. Watched and waited for all of the lizards to be occupied elsewhere. Dashed in, snatched an armful, and ran like hell.
All the way to the shelter they'd been using to rest in. One sample package taken up to the scanner to examine the contents. Safe to eat without preparation. And the calorie count was way up there.
Considering how Hal's calories had been minimal at best, this was a blessing. The machine recommended that Hal continue to hunt and forage for supplemental nutrition. At least it would take the edge off their hungry belly every morning.
They kept an eye on the lizards. More to avoid them than to steal from them, though stealing was still an option. There was no telling how long they wanted to stay. Hal had to have supplies if they wanted to farm anything, and their efforts so far had been... debatable.
The lizards were interested in the crash site!
Crap!
They'd be able to tell that Hal had scavenged what they could and buried who they could after crawling out of the wreckage. They would know there were survivors. They'd be able to put things together.
They would find Hal's signs of habitation.
They'd find Hal.
They didn't have weapons that would do anything against anything as big as the reptiles. And they had technology on their side. Hal may be able to run and hide, but they had scanners, and Hal had to sleep, eat, and use the bathroom.
They had something resembling a bag to carry food, but didn't have anything to carry clean water, and the condensation still was not easily replacable or carryable.
If Hal abandoned their water supply, they'd have three days at best.
They were going to end here. Well. If they were going to eat Hal anyway, then Hal was going to make them regret that meal choice. Hal made a spear, and prepared to fight when the lizards cornered them.
Hal did not expect them to speak their language.
"Hu-man child," the leader cooed. "We come to save."
"For later?" Hal challenged. His spear was too heavy to hold, now that they were at their snapping point. Not that Hal was going to let go or drop it.
"Save life," said the spokeslizard. "Take to Human place. We made promises. Find crashes. Save survivors. Humans say, show teeth is friendly."
The best Hal could say was that the spokeslizard had made an honest effort. The creature did show their teeth. It's just that nobody with any sense could call it a smile.
But it was the teeth that called it.
They were herbivore teeth.
The spear fell from Hal's fingers, and their knees almost gave out. The lizards were ready and actively carried Hal to their camp. They gave Hal gelatinous food cubes that promised to have everything Hal needed.
It was the best food they'd had in forever.
[Photo by Javier Miranda on Unsplash]
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