My head is finally starting to clear. At least, I think it is. Apparently, I’ve been in a period of free-fall for some time and the world around me has been spinning in circles.
But it’s all starting to come back to me. For a while, I didn’t know who I was, but I do now: I’m Dr. Ann Magnuson. I’m a scientist and I’m standing among trees, flowers and miles and miles of mountainous terrain. But why is it so damn hot? It feels as if I’m in a tropical rain forest.
I look around …….and things start to fall into place.
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The time travel experiment.
Of course.
I’m a member of the team that has created the first practical device to enable people to travel through time. And I’m the first one to go through.
We were aiming for the year 1863. I was to be a first-hand witness to the U.S. Civil War. The time travel team was going to give me 24 hours to observe, then they would zero in on me and whisk me back to 2008.
But something went wrong; the time I have arrived in simply can’t be 1863. For one thing, it’s way too hot. The content of the air I’m breathing is too heavily concentrated with oxygen. For another thing, the plant life surrounding me resembles nothing recognizable from my time, nor could it be indigenous to 1863. From the mountain on which I stand, I can see for miles. I see plant life. There is an animal standing in the distance. I’m no paleontologist, but I know a woolly mammoth when I see one. They had gone extinct long before the Civil War, that’s for sure. Many thousands of years before.
I’ve gone back too far. Somehow, the time travel mechanism has overshot the mark and sent me back to a time before recorded history. Am I even in America? And how can the team pull me back home if I’m not in the time period they intended?
It would be impossible. As a scientist, I have to face that fact. The time travel coordinates were calibrated to send me to a certain time and place. If I went somewhere else, the team couldn’t possibly know where to look for me. This is a risk that we were aware of and willing to take.
I’m stuck here for the rest of my life.
********************************
It’s surprising how quickly the mind can adapt to the reality of a situation. Okay…..I’m here to stay. Let’s deal with it.
I stand up and first notice that I’m totally naked. Also, the gun and canteen I was equipped with is gone. That’s one thing the team never figured on; neither the time traveler’s clothing nor anything she is carrying will make the trip with her.
Well, it’s time to get practical. I need to find food, water and shelter. Also, something to cover my body. Maybe a fig leaf……. biblically speaking, it might be possible to find one!
As I walk down the mountain, I am mindful of running across some highly unfamiliar animal life. If there is a woolly mammoth in the neighborhood, then heaven knows what else I might encounter. And before too long, I look toward the valley and see ..….. a dinosaur?
It looks to my untrained eye like a dinosaur. Actually, it isn’t; but I don’t know what the hell it is. Somehow, it looks more like a giant bird walking on two legs. It is too far away to be a threat and as I gaze at it, it occurs to me………I traveled through time to witness the Battle of Gettysburg, and I wound up in Jurassic Park! A humorless laugh bursts from my lips. It sounds slightly hysterical; reminding me that, although I see myself as a rational and analytical scientist, I am still subject to the sensory overload that comes from being thrust into this unexpected and unusual situation.
As I continue walking, it suddenly begins to rain. I can hardly believe it, as the sky was completely clear a moment ago. But now, it’s pouring like hell and I spy a nearby cave. Running toward it, I duck into the cool darkness and try to dry off as I stand naked and shivering in the damp gloominess.
I turn to look out at the storm and am shocked to discover that it has already ended. The sky is rapidly clearing and the sun is making an appearance. Were quick changes in weather a phenomenon of the past? I look back into the cave, which has brightened noticeably.
The sun has illuminated the area enough for me to see that I am not alone. My blood freezes as I see the women staring at me. There are a dozen of them and they are standing rigidly in place, no doubt startled by my sudden appearance. They had been tending a fire inside the cave and cooking food.
Do they regard me as a threat? And if they do, how do these ladies handle threats? Are they ready to run away from me…… or attack?
We stand staring at one another…….all of us human beings, but separated by thousands of years of history and evolution. What happens now?
My first thought is that I am looking at Neanderthal women. All of them possess the protruding foreheads and broad, flat noses that are associated with Neanderthal. They are all short in stature……the tallest among them standing less than five feet tall. They are built close to the ground, with legs as thick as tree trunks. They walk slightly stooped over.
But as we stare at one another, I come to realize that they don’t possess “classic” Neanderthal features. It has been theorized that the Neanderthals’ time on Earth actually overlapped with that of Cro-Magnon (Modern) Man. If that was so, there would have been interbreeding. Perhaps, the Neanderthals became Modern Man over the eons, and I am witnessing a stage of that process. These women have long, lustrous hair on their heads and none on their faces. Both of these are features of Modern Man. Too, their heads are shaped in the manner of Modern Man, with normal sized craniums and none of the ridges over the brow that I associate with Neanderthal. But their lower bodies are all Neanderthal, from their bull necks to their heavy, meaty arms, their wide, rolling hips, broad backsides and wide, flat feet. I am witnessing a stage in human evolution that the history books don’t allude to. The Missing Link?
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Meanwhile, I wonder what they must make of me. They know I’m not a cave woman from another tribe who just happened to wander into their midst. Not hardly……I am six feet tall with a slender, toned body, very light skin and shoulder-length blonde hair. I don’t look anything like the women who are standing before me.
The cave women look me up and down, their mouths hanging open. They obviously have no issues with my nudity, as several of them are unclothed, too. Others wear skimpy garments made from loincloth. They observe my clipped eyebrows, slender hips and narrow ankles and feet. I figure that I must look like an alien to them, and then I remember that they would have no conception of what an alien is. Probably, they know only of people who are of their tribe….and people who aren’t. Are they scared of me? Do they accept strangers as friends? As enemies? How do I make myself understood? I try smiling; but it isn’t a gesture that gets any response from them. I call out;
“Hi! My name is Ann.”
But the gesture evokes no reaction from them.
After a few minutes of this, I still have no idea how to proceed with the twelve cave women, but it turns out that they know what to do about me. With their eyes still on me, they huddle and start communicating with each other. Their “words” consist of short, grunting sounds that I find totally unfamiliar ……and an elaborate set of hand signals that signifies nothing to me. The cave gals understand each other, though…..no question about that. They are jabbering excitedly and I can’t make heads or tails of what their meaning is.…….and then the talking abruptly stops. They turn to face me.
Are they going to gang up and bring me down? Are they going to wait until their men return to the cave? It turns out to be neither.
As if on cue, eleven of the women take a step backward toward their fire, and one woman takes a step toward me.
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Maybe I should have known from the beginning what was coming, because the concept is as old as mankind itself. It even exists in our time. In fact, it’s still highly prevalent in our time, and I recognize it immediately. We are going to fight.
I have invaded their turf. I have interloped on their cave, their fire, their home. The woman who has stepped forward is issuing a challenge; and she is the one who will deal with me. The other cave women hunker down in a crouch; undoubtedly to watch the action. I hear them address her; they keep repeating a word that sounds to my ears like “Lena.” That’s not what they are saying, but it is close enough that I now have a name for my enemy.
I size Lena up. On one hand, her primitive features revolt me, especially in light of the fact that I am soon going to be in physical contact with her. Her skin is darker than mine; almost swarthy. Upon closer examination, though, I find that Lena is lovely in her own way. Her best feature is a mane of blue-black hair that shimmers in the light of the cave fire. Her eyes are peaceful and serene, in seeming contradiction to the violence in which she is about to partake. She is obviously the leader of this tribe’s women. She is the tallest of them, although she stands a foot shorter than me.
And Lena is going to fight me without any help from her friends.
In that way, I am lucky. Plainly, the concept of “ganging up” does not exist in ancient times. Battles are fought one-on-one…..you win or you lose. Yes, I am going to have to fight; but only one opponent rather than twelve. I can make a pretty good guess as to what happens to me if I lose, although I have no idea what will happen if I win.
If I win? A lovely thought, but how in hell am I going to accomplish it? These women look as if they have lived their entire lives dealing with challenges like this. Each confrontation is a fight for survival, not sport. The set of their bodies indicates to me that they are bred for physical combat. As soon as I get hit with a punch from Lena’s meaty arms or get bashed in the stomach by one of her knees, I am sure to lose. I am in great aerobic shape, but I don’t think the kickboxing and judo lessons I took at the local health club are going to impress Lena very much.
Yet, I am going to have to fight. I can run from the cave, but since I must exist for the rest of my life in this time, I am going to have to deal with this sooner or later. If I can somehow win, I might be accepted into their tribe. And if I lose, I will die anyway ……but I resolve to give it my best shot because I didn’t travel through time just to let myself be killed within the first hour of my arrival.
*************************
Lena steps out of her loincloth and stands naked, looking sturdy and powerful. We face each other across the confines of the cave. I make a beckoning motion with my hands, urging her to come forward. She doesn’t respond to that, but she makes a gesture of her own; bending forward at the waist and pointing to the ground at her feet. For a moment, I have no idea what she means…..and then it comes to me. She is offering me the chance to surrender; to “forfeit” the fight by groveling at her feet. That the cave women have no intention of ganging up on me indicates that these people possess an innate sense of honor. Surrendering without a fight could only violate that honor, and I shudder to think what my fate will be if I comply.
“No!” I shout forcefully, making a slashing gesture in the air with my hand.
Lena understands. Without further hesitation, she extends her arms in front of her and stomps heavily toward me. I raise my hands and wait for her first punch, hoping I can either duck it or block it. But no punch comes. Instead, Lena slams her outstretched hands against my shoulders and roughly forces me backward toward the wall. Caught by surprise, I try to push back but I am no match for her power. I writhe under her grip as she drives with her legs to increase the pressure. My back is grinding against the dirt wall and Lena turns pressure into suffocating pain as she repeatedly pounds her upper body into mine, constricting my breathing.
I must escape…..and fast. Able to think of no other way to do it, I clap the palms of my hands as hard as I can against her ears. It doesn’t seem as if that would have an effect, but it does. Lena’s eyes fly open in pain and surprise as she backs away from me, holding her hands to her ears, shaking her head wildly against the ringing.
As Lena stares at me in astonishment, I leap forward and throw my body into hers. I want to grasp her shoulders and toss her to the ground, but all my tugging and maneuvering is getting me nowhere. Those thick legs of hers make it impossible for me to get any leverage, and her brawny arms easily thwart me. Being so much shorter than me, her face is buried in my breasts as she pushes. She starts to move me backward again and I wrap my leg around hers, attempting to trip her. The effort is useless, and as I stagger backward, I see that Lena is in perfect position to deliver a roundhouse punch to my head. Seeing this, but being off-balance, I flinch in dismay, but Lena doesn’t throw the punch. Instead, she grasps me by the shoulders and flings me to the floor. It is a hard landing but doesn’t really hurt me. I roll away from her, suddenly understanding something that might allow me to actually have a chance in this fight.
Cave people don’t punch! Apparently, punching is a concept that hasn’t been “invented” yet. They don’t know how to use a fist as a projectile…..and thank heavens for that! Lena uses her hands to fight, but she is more of a crusher and squeezer when it comes to hand-to-hand combat. She might try to pull me apart, but at least I don’t have to worry about her going “Rocky” on me.
As I pick myself up from the floor, she is again stalking toward me. I try to keep her off by locking my elbows and pushing against her shoulders, but she again powers through my defense and backs me against the wall. She pins me upright with one hand and I see her other hand moving toward my crotch. I panic, thinking that she is going to crush my womanhood with one powerful hand. Instead, she braces her palm against my inner thigh and lifts the lower half of my body sideways, pinning me against the wall in a horizontal position.
Good God…. what strength! Her body and mine are forming the position of a lower case “t” with her upper body and chin pressing against my abdomen. I am gasping for breath as she increases the pressure. The stone outcropping of the wall is digging viciously into my back. Still holding me horizontal, Lena starts banging my body against the wall. The blows are crushing and I fight with all my strength to loosen her grip……but it’s hopeless. I am using my fingernails to scratch her upper arms and shoulders, but her skin is thick and tough; she doesn’t seem to feel it. I flail my limbs wildly but have no success in freeing myself. In desperation, I remember that my long legs are probably the best weapon against her squat body. I had some success earlier in slamming my hands against her ears; perhaps my legs would work even better.
Using the wall as a brace, I flex my leg and viciously crack my knee into the side of her head. As before, the shot against Lena’s ear connects solidly, forcing her to release me. As I drop to the ground, Lena reels backward, holding her hand to her ear and emitting a coarse, guttural cry of pain. I quickly stand and charge her, launching a hard front kick to her exposed stomach. She has never encountered a tactic like this and the blow forces a startled *OOOOFFFF !* from Lena, driving her back several steps. Looking at me with wide eyes, she extends her hands and reaches for my throat, but I step nimbly aside, driving a whipping side-kick to her chest. The shot bothers her and gives me more hope than I had before. Since I have attained some success attacking her head, I deliver a second side-kick that lands squarely on her jaw. I really lean into the shot.
For the first time, Lena staggers. Obviously, she has been in fights before but has never seen tactics like this from an opponent. I’ve discovered something else, too…….Lena is as slow as molasses. It makes sense, as her massive legs and lower body aren’t built for speed. These cavewomen are geared for strength and I recognize that my best chance to win will come from striking hard and fast. Cave women are used to grappling like a couple of bears, matching power against power. To fight her in that manner would be foolish on my part. I have to make her chase me until she wears down.
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Well, it’s one thing to say this, but I now have to execute it. After I kick Lena in the jaw, the battle becomes a contrast in the fighting methods of two women from vastly different periods in history. Lena keeps charging directly at me, hands extended in an effort to force her will on me…… so she can tear me to pieces. In turn, I try to stay out of her reach, using speed and deception to keep distance between us.
Lena’s frustration is growing. Harsh, grunting sounds are coming from her throat as she pursues me around the cave. I never let myself get close enough for her to grab me, and I continue to use my legs to thwart her efforts to keep me in one place. I launch kick after kick ……and I connect with all of them. As I begin to tire, though, Lena is closing the distance between us. It is getting harder and harder to keep from her grasp. My breathing is becoming more labored even as I move nimbly around her. For her part, Lena is tiring, too. Although she has been born and bred for combat, the unfamiliar act of having to chase after her opponent is rapidly wearing her down.
As I back away and try to devise a new strategy……it comes to me. I have been keeping Lena off me by using only my legs.
Why not use my fists, too?
Just because she doesn’t use hers is no reason for me to not use mine. I’ll bet this prehistoric bitch never saw a jab or a right cross before! Wonder how she’d like a left hook in the chops?
I put the idea into effect. I flick out a right-handed jab, snapping it smartly against her nose. She stops in her tracks, pressing her hand to where she has been hit. Lena’s eyes grow angry and confused as she presses forward again, reaching for me. In answer, I snap off a hard, straight punch between her outstretched arms. It smacks against the cave woman’s mouth, mashing her lips against her teeth. Both of her clenched hands fly upward in surprise and Lena again stops dead in her tracks, her eyes regarding me with awe and trepidation. I smile at her but am careful to remember that I still have a dangerous enemy in front of me.
I dance around Lena, doing a modified “Ali Shuffle” in an effort to further confuse her. It works, and as I run circles around her, I launch hard punches at her head. Seeing how slow she is to react, I start really bearing down on the shots. I hit her again and again.
Plainly, I am getting to her. My punches are beginning to draw blood from her eyes, nose and lips. She stalks ever-forward but is unable to catch me. Best of all, she is worn down from chasing me around the cave. Face it, prehistoric people have never heard of aerobic training, while I have spent years doing exercises that improve my wind and stamina. Feeling frisky, I mix in thudding kicks, using my long legs to really drive them home. Then, to her utter amazement, I stop cold in the middle of the cave. Lena stops, too, uncertain of what I am up to and thoroughly confused by all my movement.
Using another “Ali” move, I start winding up like an old-time boxer, windmilling my arm in a wide circular motion. As Lena and her friends watch my right arm whirl around, I suddenly shift my body and crunch a left-handed wallop directly to her mouth. The blow lands solidly and causes Lena to stagger back several steps, blood spurting from her lips. The other women in the cave break out in frantic, grunting noises that express their shock, fear and amazement at the actions of the stranger in their midst.
However, as Lena stares at me, the look in her eyes tells me that I may have made a mistake. Although I have no idea what the thought processes are of these primitive people, I recognize the look on her face all too well. Lena knows she is being disrespected. She knows a taunt when she sees one. Here is one trait that prehistoric man has in common with people of my time: you don’t humiliate a person in front of her friends and expect to get away with it.
Lena stands in front of me, building up a head of steam. She is still panting in near exhaustion, but her eyes are narrowed and reflect an anger that scares the hell out of me. She marches resolutely forward, her outstretched arms reaching for me. I pump punches into her face as I back-pedal, but Lena walks right through them. I kick at her head and crotch but I can’t stop her forward progress. I realize with horror that she is backing me toward the fire and, just before my heels touch the flames, I put on the brakes, lower my shoulder, and plow forward into her. My thrust doesn’t even break her stride. She uses her powerful hands to lift me in the air and throw me down on my back, my head just inches from the fire.
Before I can get up, Lena jumps on top of me, driving the breath from my body. She straddles me, pinning my back to the ground and placing both her powerful hands directly on my face. In my era, the fighter on top would punch down at an opponent who is in this position but, as I said, cave people don’t do that. Instead, she presses down on my face with all her strength. The pressure is incredible; I feel as if the back of my head is being ground into the dirt. My arms are free but can do nothing against her amazing power. I begin to see spots before my eyes and know that I am seconds away from being crushed into defeat. I feel the heat of the fire right behind my head and realize that I have but one chance to save myself.
Grasping one of Lena’s wrists with both my hands, I use all my strength and yank her left arm into the fire. She shrieks in pain and jumps off me, retreating to the center of the cave and skittering in aimless circles in an attempt to escape the agony of her burned arm. I rise to my feet and rush over to her, launching a haymaker punch that nails her right between the eyes. She goes down on her back, still holding her arm and screaming in pain. With Lena down, I begin viciously stomping every area of her body with which I can make contact. She is groaning in pain and trying to crawl away from me, but she is much too slow and I stomp her again and again; brutal shots delivered by my long, powerful legs. I sink to my knees and straddle her, raining thudding punches down on her face. I can feel her cheekbone shatter under one of the shots, and she wails piteously. Lena has no way of stopping my furious attack and she wilts under the assault. When I figure that she is done for, I get to my feet and look down at her. She is almost finished, but still makes a valiant attempt to crawl away on her hands and knees. Seeing this, I leap on her back, wrapping my legs around her waist and my arms around her throat. Being so much taller than she, I am able to fully constrict her movements. She tries to pry my arms from her, but she is exhausted and my grip is too tight. As I choke her out, Lena drifts toward unconsciousness. I turn her onto her side and increase the pressure of my leg scissors around her torso. She grunts and moans in helpless agony.
Soon, although Lena’s back is turned to me, I feel her efforts abate. Her hands stop pulling at my arms and her breathing becomes shallow and labored. Finally, I hear her utter a throaty growl that sounds to my ears like: “’Nuff!”
Is that the cave woman’s word for “Enough?” It seems almost too coincidental, doesn’t it? Yet, as soon as she says it, her struggles cease entirely and it seems that she has surrendered. The tribe of cave women rise to their feet as if on signal and approach.
What does this mean? Am I about to be attacked for defeating their leader? Was all my effort for nothing?
I release Lena and stand up in the center of the cave. The women form a semi-circle around me, regarding me quizzically. Lena gazes at me, too.
They chatter among themselves while keeping their eyes on me. They make an elaborate series of hand gestures. I don’t understand their meaning but it seems apparent that something else is required of me. I don’t know what it is.
One of them steps forward and looks at me…..then at the prone figure of Lena……then at me again. Finally, she makes a hand gesture that I do understand…….it is a slashing gesture across her throat as she points at Lena.
Now, I understand.
These fights don’t end by surrender; they end by death. The cavewomen expect me to kill Lena in order to fulfill my obligation to their traditions.
My mind rebels at the thought of it. Isn’t it enough to engage in combat and win or lose by honorable means?
Apparently not. The women stare at me……. waiting.
I gaze down at Lena; she looks back with accepting eyes that show no fear. She knows that she has lost and is waiting for the inevitable consequence of defeat. With my stomach churning in revulsion and regret, I fall to my knees, straddling Lena. I look deeply into her eyes and we exchange a look of perfect understanding. I place my hands around her neck and begin to squeeze. I apply all my strength, wanting to make this as quick as possible. Lena doesn’t move, she doesn’t cry out. Her eyes gaze at me with reverence even as her breathing constricts under the punishment I am meting out.
But then……I stop. I cannot do it. I don’t know if these prehistoric people have any sense of the concept of mercy…..but I do.
I will not kill Lena……I
will not.Releasing Lena and standing, I turn away from my valiant adversary and face her comrades.
“
No!” I shout, making the slashing gesture they understood earlier. “I will not kill her. You have your traditions, but here’s a new one you will have to get used to. I
will not kill her!The cavewomen look at me, then at Lena. She gazes at them for a moment, then crawls forward on her hands and knees and starts smothering my ankles and feet with kisses. As if on cue, all the other cave women fall to their knees, groveling at my feet. They put their faces and the palms of their hands in the dirt, bowing before me. I sense what it all means and respond to the honor being paid me. I posture before them in naked glory; my hands on my hips and my head held imperiously high, accepting their tribute.
The tribe has a new female leader………and she is me.
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Within an hour, I have been “inaugurated” as the head of the cave women. They have serviced me; bathed me, washed my hair, and outfitted me in a “royal” loincloth. I am being fawned over in a manner befitting a tribal queen.
A girl could get used to this.
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And, let’s see. Their men should be arriving soon. I can’t help thinking; if I am as physically superior to them as I am to the women ………perhaps I can wind up as the leader of the entire tribe. That would be nice, wouldn’t it?
After all, I have the rest of my life to make it happen.
