Chapter 7

7

- Alba -

Anter’az’s eyes are shining as he talks. He waves his hands and has a dreamy look on his face, and when he finishes his excited speech, he reaches his hands up and out as if to embrace the whole world.

His boyish enthusiasm makes me smile. And it also sends some tingles down below. Because this is the kind of guy I like. The nerd, the bright one who’s obsessed with something that I can barely understand. Anter’az is so different now. Before he was all grumpy and distant, but now he really came alive.

“That’s wonderful,” I exclaim, infected by his passion. “The tribe really need that. It be great for the tribesmen! And maybe for other tribes, too.”

“It’s why I wanted to bring you here and show these things,” he says and points to the shelves. “Have the Borok and Tretter tribe found things that work in that way?”

I think about it. “They have some herbs and other such that they put on wounds. And we have mix that we call a ‘poultice’ that sometimes seems it work. But I not think anyone use ground-up Tinies for that.”

Anter’az takes my empty plate and fills it with more fried meat and slices of vegetables and fruits. “And on your planet? The alien planet that you come from?” He hands me the plate.

It’s something we girls have talked about a lot. The tribes don’t really have good healthcare. Bryar is especially worried, because she’s pregnant and the baby seems to grow really fast. She’s concerned about how the birth will go, because it’s obvious that the baby will be large. And if something goes wrong, these guys have zero experience with women, much less births.

“We have lot of those,” I tell him as I nibble on a piece of fried meat. “We call them ‘medicines’. But they are made in large house by hundreds of people, who are very good at that.”

“ Medsins . They use Tinies and herbs?” Anter’az asks, interested.

“I sure they sometimes use herbs. Not sure about the Tinies. The medicines that have on Earth are hard to make. But they work.”

He fills a mug with water and gives it to me. “Can you show me? Or is it a secret art?”

“Is a difficult art. And I not trained in it.”

He looks away, disappointed. “Oh.”

“But I can try,” I promise, not wanting him to think I’m useless. “I sometimes talk to the other girls about something we want to make.”

He raises his eyebrows. “What?”

There are voices outside, coming closer.

I put the plate and mug down and glance at the curtain to the other cave where I slept. “Should I…?”

“They know you’re here,” Anter’az rumbles. “Probably that’s why they’ve come. Enter!” he roars so his voice echoes from the walls, probably none too happy about the interruption.

A man and a boy cautiously come up to the cave opening. “Anter’az, do you have time?”

“Come in,” Anter’az says, back to his calm self. “What can I do for you, Upir’ex and Sam’ox?”

The man steadies the boy as they come inside. “There’s something wrong with him. He’s barely able to walk and he’s very weak.” He sends me a quick glance.

Anter’az helps him lift the boy into the chair. “Does it hurt, Sam’ox?”

“Yes,” the boy says, his voice weak.

“Where?”

“My foot,” Sam’ox says, his face gray and moist with feverish sweat.

Anter’az gently takes hold of the boy’s feet. “This one?”

The boy groans with pain. “Yes.”

I quietly move over to where I can see what’s going on. There’s a thick, irregular black line going from Sam’ox’s big toe and under the skin towards his ankle.

“How long has it been like this?”

“Some days,” the boy says. “But it only started to hurt yesterday.”

Anter’az pokes the black line. To my horror, it moves under the boy’s skin.

“Parasite,” I whisper.

“I’ve never seen this before,” Anter’az says. “Have you, Woman Alba?”

“Not this, but it look like what we call parasite . Is a Tiny that live inside other creatures and sometimes takes them over.”

His orange owl eyes pierce me. “What do your healers do with parsize? ”

“I think they take them out.”

He examines the foot further. “Could it have crawled in under the toe and then eaten its way further in?”

I shrug, strangely fascinated. “It could. Maybe you can pull it out same way.”

“Where have you been, Sam’ox?” Anter’az asks with a kind tone. “I mean, before it started to hurt? Where did you play?”

“I know he and the others played in the trench that the skarp left,” the man says. “And there was a dead kronk that was rotting.”

“Did you play on the dead kronk, Sam’ox?” Anter’az asks mildly.

“Yes,” the boy wheezes. “We climbed up on it because we wanted to catch one of the spronts.”

“So there were Tinies and Smalls crawling on it?”

“Yes.”

“Many?”

“Yes.”

“So many that you could barely see the kronk itself under the thick layer of crawling Tinies?”

The boy swallows. “Yes.”

“I thought so. I have seen dead kronk before, you see.” Anter’az gives the boy a friendly cuff on the shoulder. “I think we can deal with this. You’re very lucky that Woman Alba is here now! Only she knows about parasize. Woman Alba, can you come with me?” He opens the curtain to the other cave and holds it up.

I quickly walk into the bedroom cave and turn. “Yes?”

He drops the curtain behind him. “Do you recommend pulling that parasize out under the toenail?”

Okay, so here we’re being treated like a visiting expert surgeon. I have to see how far I can get with just common sense and having seen a good few episodes of Grey’s Anatomy . “Can you get hold of it?”

“Not with my fingers. I would have to put something in there.”

I think about it. “The only other way would be to make cut and pull it out that way. You have a sharp knife?”

“I have many.”

“I think should get your sharpest. Make a small cut only. Don’t cut into the parasite. That may make harder to get out. It should be in one piece. Oh, use a lot of frit. Pour over the cut. It might help the wound not fester after. I think parasite may be very dirty.”

He nods. “I think so too. I have no right to ask you this, but could you help if I ask you to? The boy would get another reason to brag if he survives.”

“Um…” I was never too interested in medical stuff, and while seeing blood usually doesn’t make me faint, I’m not thrilled about assisting at an operation. But this will only be a shallow incision, I think. And again I don’t want Anter’az to think I’m useless. “All right.”

“Good. I have an idea how to do this. And I will need another set of hands. I would trust your hands more than I’d trust Upir’ex’s.” He opens the curtains back into the other cave.

“Woman Alba has agreed that she may help us,” Anter’az announces. “She has much secret and magical knowledge from her alien planet. Let’s see now.” He gathers the things he needs. “This is a hunt, Sam’ox! We are all hunting that parasize . And often on a hunt, we get cut and we bleed. After that, we wear our scars with pride for the rest of our lives! You will bear the scars from the parasize . Everyone will envy you those scars! Because you are the only one to fight a parasize and win. We shall carve the parasize into the totem pole. The totem pole of the Krast tribe!”

The boy manages a cautious smile.

Anter’az looks up at me. “Is the Krast tribe a brave tribe, Woman Alba?”

“Of course,” I say loudly, immediately getting what he’s doing. “Is the bravest tribe on Xren. The Borok and Tretter warriors say.”

“Will you be brave, Sam’ox?” Anter’az asks as he stokes the fire, making flames shoot up. “For the Krast tribe?”

“Yes,” the patient says, having little choice.

Anter’az turns a small knife in the flames. “This will hurt your foot. But only for a short while. You are allowed to yell, but not to move. Upir’ex, would you take hold here? And here?”

The man grabs the boy’s leg with both hands.

“It’s better if you not watch,” I tell the boy and point. “Look at that cage instead. Do you know that last night, all those cages fell on me? And they opened? I was sting! Two times!”

He looks at me with big eyes. “Did you almost die?”

“Almost,” I confirm. “But Anter’az saved me. He’s a great healer.”

Anter’az splashes frit over the boy’s foot. “I think we’re ready. Woman Alba, if you would please put your finger there...”

The operation takes maybe thirty seconds. Sam’ox keeps mostly quiet, but his foot jerks involuntarily when Anter’az pulls the parasite out.

He holds it up in the light. It twists and turns, small, sharp tentacles uselessly clawing the air. “Our hunt was successful, Sam’ox! Here is our prey. It is still alive. Shall we throw it into the fire?”

“Yes!” the boy says with feeling.

“As the chief hunter commands,” Anter’az says and tosses the pencil-sized parasite into the fire. There’s a short hiss, and then it’s gone. “Your victory is complete.”

He pours more frit on the surgery wound and on the toe where the parasite first gained entry. Then he puts a mysterious paste on both. “The hekasit venom,” he tells me. “Another chance to see if it works.” He winds strips of light, porous leather around the foot.

Little Sam’ox gets out of the chair, looking better already. He tests his foot, but can’t walk on it yet.

“You are very brave,” I tell him.

“Well done, Sam’ox,” Anter’az praises. “Woman Alba has now seen true Krast bravery up close. Let us thank her for her help!”

“Thank you, Woman Alba,” the boy says.

Upir’ex goes to the cave opening. “Yes, thank you. It’s unfortunate that you are a woman and that you cannot stay in our tribe.” They both go out into the daylight.

“They still don’t trust me?” I ask as I look around for a place to wash my hands.

“Oh, I think Sam’ox trusts you. His father is a full tribesman and will have to obey the law. As does the whole tribe.”

“And you?”

He clears away the items we used for the operation. “I am more and more certain that you can be trusted. Now I know that you give good advice and help as a healer.”

I guess that’s the best I can expect right now. “Can we heat big pot of water?”

He frowns. “Why?”

“So that can wash our hands. You are interested in how we heal illness on Earth, yes?”

“I am.”

“Something that all our healers do,” I say carefully so as not to provoke his ego, “is to always wash the hands before and after they heal. And between those who need healing.”

“Why?” he asks again.

“Look at your fingers now. You have some of Sam’ox’s blood on you. And slime from the parasite, I’m sure. What if that slime contain egg so small they can’t be seen? What if the slime is poisonous? And then you heal another tribesman, giving him the egg or the poison?”

Anter’az looks at his hands. “Ah.”

“As a healer,” I purr so as not to offend him, “you know dirt is sometimes not visible. On Earth, we call that dirt ‘bacteria’ and we know that they very small creatures that cause illness. Right now, your hands are covered in that. And mine, too.”

“Invisible creatures,” he says with revulsion, turning his hands over as if to spot them.

“I noticed you heated the blade of the knife over the fire before cut. That was to clean it, yes?”

He shrugs his massive shoulders. “It just seems like a good thing to do. The blade went into his body, if only barely. I wanted it to be clean.”

“Exactly! The fire makes clean. It burns the bacteria off it. So why not you do the closest thing to that with your hands, and wash them in water as hot as you can stand?”

The caveman takes a big pot that makes sloshing sounds, pours a couple of gallons of water into a smaller one, and places it over the fire. “Would that be enough?”

I can’t hold back a smile. I worried about nothing. He has zero ego about healing. He just wants to do the best he can. And he’ll accept sensible advice without a second thought, even from an alien woman. How many cavemen would do that? How many men on Earth would be that open-minded? Oh no! I think I’m starting to really like this guy.

“That should be fine,” I tell him. “Not make it too hot, so that it… I don’t know word.”

“Scalds,” he supplies the cavemanese word. “To heat the skin too much.”

“Scalds,” I dutifully repeat. “That not necessary. We will just scrub our hands well. Before and after every man who needs our help.”

“I will need a lot of water,” he thinks aloud, watching the pot. “Clean water.”

I tell him about boiling water and alcohol, which is pretty much all my knowledge about how to kill bacteria. We girls haven’t been too interested in it, because we never get sick on Xren. It’s as if the bacteria here don’t work on our alien bodies. Even drinking water straight from a stream or a pond doesn’t seem to affect us. We have the poultice, though, to use on the cavemen.

The water boils. Anter’az scoops out a gallon and pours cold water into it to cool it down. Then he washes his hands in it, while I get the second batch for my hands.

“Feel clean?” I ask when we’re done.

“Very,” Anter’az says, holding his red-scrubbed hands in front of him. “It feels… right . Now I want them to stay like this.”

“Me too.”

“But the first things we touch will make them dirty again, I think. Still, all the bad dirt from Sam’ox and the parasize is gone. And that’s the reason we did this. I’m learning a lot from you, Alba.”

Damn it. He’s acting as if he’s read a book that contains all the things I like in someone. Smarts, passion for something complicated, a thoughtful way about him, intense eyes, big muscles. And a talented tongue, although that part I never knew would be this important. “I learn just as much from you.”

“Oh? I didn’t know you had anything to learn. Do you want more breakfast?” He gestures to my plate, where there’s now just a half-eaten piece of meat and some fruit rinds.

“No, thank you. It was very delicious.”

He takes the boiling pot off the fire. “We should stay away from my tribesmen.”

“I not talk to them if they not talk to me,” I state. “But they all know I’m here.”

Anter’az suddenly turns and reaches up to another shelf. “I almost forgot this. It’s yours, you said.”