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Stories from the Verse
A Dozen Verses
Chapter 109: Slade 287
Table of Contents
Previous chapter: Cooper 108
Finished feasting on flame-broiled fish, Slade dozed off with his head in Shella’s lap. As long as the gas held out, they could survive here--but he didn’t know how long that would be.
He awoke abruptly in the cold with his head on the snow, and saw Shella standing over him trying to cast the comfort bubble spell again. It seemed to take her longer than usual, but he made a point not to interrupt her effort until he felt the air return to a comfortable environment.
“Trouble?” he asked. She shrugged.
“It’s not as reliable as it has been in other worlds. I’ve had to do the casting more than once, more than once.”
He nodded. He hadn’t really expected magic to work that well in this world, and given that the food creation spell didn’t work at all, the fact that this worked at all was definitely a plus.
“O.K.,” he said. “You rest now; I’ll watch.”
He didn’t really think it was necessary to keep watch. The only thing they had seen which looked remotely dangerous so far was the mammoths, and they obviously were herbivores, not predatory carnivores. Maybe there were more dangerous animals in this world, but thus far they hadn’t found them. It made him wonder why Odin had them here, although it struck him that among the giants he expected to face at Ragnorak were Frost Giants, and they obviously lived in cold climes, so part of the war was going to be in conditions probably not unlike this.
As Shella stretched out on the snow and laid her head in his lap, he stared out over the whiteness. Maybe he would see mammoths--after all, they must come to water to drink sometimes, and this was an obvious accessible watering hole. For that, there are probably other animals that came here. He wondered if there would be birds, waterfowl of some sort--but no, if there was warm land to the south, birds would have flown there, unless they were penguins, and something in the back of his mind told him that there were no penguins in the north.
Of course, he was only assuming he was in the north. This could be Antartica. That he hadn’t seen any penguins wasn’t that telling--he hadn’t seen any wildlife other than the mammoths to this point, and probably any groups of animals would be few and far between.
Staring across the stream into the white distance, he suddenly startled. Did something move? Everything was white. No, there it was again. It appeared that there was motion in the distance.
“Are my eyes playing tricks on me?” he asked aloud.
“What’s that?” Shella responded.
“Oh, I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to wake you. It’s just that I keep thinking I’m seeing something moving in the distance, but everything is white.”
She sat up, looked at him for some clue where he was looking, and then turned to stare across the stream and into the distance.
“I really didn’t want to bother you,” he began, but she shushed him.
Then, “Yes,” she began, “I think there’s something there--white on white, but it’s coming this direction, whatever it is.
Leaning on his rifle for support, Slade stood. As he watched, the white figures against the white background began to come into focus: bears. As he recalled, polar bears were some of the largest and strongest in the world, and it looked as if there were three of them--a large mother and two smaller cubs.
He quickly dismissed the notion that they were going somewhere other than his excellent fishing hole. Bears caught and ate fish. He didn’t think they attacked people, other than in self-defense--but would the bear consider his presence here a threat?
Better to be safe.
“Pack up,” he said. “We might want to give these bears some space for a while. But we’ll wait and see.”
Gradually the bears closed on the far side of the narrow stream.
The mother seemed to slow as she neared, but she continued up to the edge of the water. There she reared and roared. Slade stood placidly, although he had his blaster on his belt ready if needed. She returned to her feet, and with periodic glances his direction she waded into the water and began knocking fish onto the shore while the cubs lapped at the edge and then chased the flopping fish hungrily.
Slade maintained his wary position. He had no experience with bears of any sort, least of all arctic polar bears, and was not about to assume he was safe simply because they hadn’t threatened him yet.
As to the old stories that have long been here:
