Escape from Altera Ch. 06

"The right paw and tail? That's not very much meat."

"No, but it does give flavor to the kem," said Kerensky.

"Why would anyone agree to hunt for the guards under those conditions?"

"Well, they do get a tiny sliver of meat, but more importantly, they give you flavor for your km. Have you ever stuck a cooked rabbit's tail into a steaming bowl of kem? It gives off a delicious taste."

"Uhhh...."

"Sometimes you can bribe someone in the hunting parties to bring you back some bark."

"Bark?"

"When you boil it, that can give some taste to the water too."

" I was thinking of getting some real food," I said.

"Ah, Richman! This is not a five star League restaurant!" said Kerensky, having a good laugh at my expense.

Hmm. I started thinking again.

"You know, if you want some meat, there's always the dog," said Kerensky.

The dog? I wondered.

"The Commandant's dog," said Kerensky.

Oh. What everyone referred to as the "dog" was actually a mutated wolf that was the Commandant's official mascot/pet. The animal was free to roam the compound without interference. The guards didn't have to worry about keeping an eye out for it, because the animal, Fidov, could take care of himself. The beast weighed well over 100 pounds and had four inch fangs. Every so often the beast would maul a prisoner who got in his way, much to the amusement of the guards. We learned early on to avoid Fidov.

"What about the dog?" I asked.

"Kill him, and eat him."

"How do I do that?" I asked.

But Kerensky had already turned back to whatever it was he was reading. Once again, I would be on my own.

I went outside the barracks and stared at the wolf creature who was trotting around in the distance. Normally I would never think of killing a semi-domesticated animal for food, especially a dangerous one which could defend itself. But Fidov had mauled a good number of my fellow prisoners, and wasn't very popular with any of us. But still, could I eat him?

I felt a rumbling in my stomach. I guess I could. But how to take on the beast? I didn't even have a spear. The best I had was a small knife I had managed to fashion during my time at the construction site. That would not be enough to take out Fidov. Unless I could cut his throat in his sleep? But the animal would hear or smell me coming.

I needed a more sophisticated plan. As I stood there, Sasha came up to me. "I heard you talking. You are thinking about eating nasty doggy, yes?"

"Yes," I said.

"It seems difficult," said Sasha. "I do not think you can kill the creature."

"Thanks for the encouragement."

"But perhaps if you had help, you might be able to." Sasha looked at me.

That was all I needed to get me going. We started planning.

We needed four people to act as decoys, dangerous jobs. We found few volunteers until we promised them a substantial amount of meat. We needed four people to distract the guards--they would want some meat too. We needed skilled cooks--we had only two stoves in our barracks and we would have to cook a lot of meat quickly, so we had to promise them some meat also. And finally we had to promise to give at least a bite of meat to everyone in the barracks, to keep them quiet. But still, after all was said and done, Sasha and I would have the lion's share of the meat, because it was our idea and we would be taking most of the risks.

When we were ready, our decoys approached Fidov. Fidov growled menacingly, showing his fangs. One of the prisoners yelled "Boo!" and the chase was on.

The first prisoner ran towards the barracks. But Fidov was much faster. However, before Fidov closed on the first prisoner, a second prisoner hit Fidov with a stick. Fidov changed course. And then a third prisoner came in, hitting Fidov with a stick, and Fidov changed course again.

I've heard on ancient Earth they did something similar with larger animals called bulls, but to me this seemed more dangerous because our decoys were basically unarmed. Still, for the lure of food, they did it.

Gradually they maneuvered Fidov to the area around the prisoner barracks, specifically a narrow outdoor corridor between two barracks that would be hidden from the guards and suit our purposes perfectly.

Fidov ran in one end--to find me waiting there, with a long pole in my hand. Behind him, Sasha appeared, with another long pole, stolen from the construction area. Snarling, Fidov ran towards me. I ran forward as well to generate momentum. The corridor was so narrow that there was little need to aim, but still I felt nervous, watching the snarling beast run towards me. When I stabbed at him, the force of it sent the pole from my hands. I quickly realized I had missed; instead of impaling the animal, I had merely smacked him on the side of the head.

The animal, groggy, shook its head and tried to get its bearings. I reached for the pole. But before I could raise it again, the beast was on me. I had only the thin pole to keep his jaws away from me as it slashed me with its claws.

"Raaaa!" it cried as its mouth was only inches from my face.

Suddenly the creature stiffened, jerked, and collapsed on top of me.

I squirmed out from underneath it, to find Sasha standing there, his sharpened pole impaled in the beast's gut.

"Well, that was easy enough," I said, wiping the sweat off my brow. I moved to touch the body, but Fidov reared his head and roared again.

Grasping my pole, I clubbed the wolf creature until it stopped moving. Breathing heavily, I said again, "There, that seemed easy enough."

We had to get the meat all cooked before our duty shift began the next morning. We cooked feverishly through the night, but it was a lot of meat. We buried the remaining carcass in the snow. After we finished cooking, we ended up giving everyone more meat than I planned, and we all stuffed ourselves until we felt sick. The meat had a tangy flavor and under normal circumstances I wouldn't have touched it, but I was a long, long way from normal circumstances. It was the best tasting food I had had in months, given the alternatives of kem or irnoy.

The next day I again ate as much as I could, and took the remaining meat and sold it on the black market for a tidy sum; I was reluctant to part with the food, but I didn't want to have "evidence" on my hands either. Hard as it may sound to believe, but I even passed on my kem breakfast that morning.

It was only two days later that we heard from the Commandant's office that he was wondering if anyone had seen Fidov. But no one had any information to offer him. All the guards could find was the smile of well-fed prisoners.

When the tail of Fidov showed up on the steps to the Commandant's office, Major Colonel Tromov came out and screamed at us for a full hour. I guess he was very attached to his dog.

But even Fidov was just a blip on the screen. I was always trying to think of ways to get more and better food.

"Why don't you try Chekov?" Kerensky suggested.

"He has food to trade?" I said.

"No," said Kerensky. "But it is well known that he makes food taste better."

"He sells spices?" I asked.

But Kerensky, as was typical of him, would say no more.

So I sought out the prisoner called Chekov. He was hardly more than a boy, making me wonder how he had been sent here.

"Chekov-" I began.

He raised a finger. "Mr. Chekov."

I sighed. He looked little more than a boy. But everyone here had complexes, and it seemed like a simple request.

"Mr. Chekov," I said. "I have come to-"

He knew immediately why I had come. "You want better tasting food."

"How did you know?" I asked.

Mr. Chekov sighed. "That's the only reason people come to talk to me."

I got the impression he was lonely.

"See me at lunch," said Chekov. Then, as an afterthought, he added, "And bring five gembles."

I wondered what this was all about but I did see him at lunch and after I had paid him, he motioned for me to hand over my bowl of kem. I handed it over, and he actually put his finger in it, which sort of disgusted me. But then he concentrated, and the bowl started to sparkle a bit.

When he looked up at me, and handled the bowl back, he waited.

Experimentally I put a piece of kem in my mouth.

My eyes widened in surprise. The kem actually had taste! It was mild, it wasn't much, but compared to what I was used to, it was tremendous. It was kind of a lettuce-like taste and it was delicious.

"If you want it to taste even better, I can do it for ten gembles," said Chekov. He looked bored, as if he had said and done this many times before.

"How do you-"

"I don't know," said Chekov, anticipating the question. And then he was gone.

I consulted with Kerensky that evening. "Mr. Chekov has special talents," was all he would say.

That was for sure.

I periodically used Mr. Chekov's services after that. I tried to engage him in conversation, but he was distant. I wondered what had brought him here but didn't ask.

Still, with my occasional care packages, the consumption of Fidov, and Chekov's services, I managed to stay merely on the borderline edge of malnutrition, which left me in better condition than most of the prisoners.