[COPY] Tiffany – Containment Protocol-Part 17
Pinsky makes a friend. Fiction. 2000 words, 10-minute read.
Tiffany – Containment Protocol-Part 17
By Ray Tabler
The swahldet stables turned out to be a series of large holes in the caldera wall. Booker imaged that the openings led to tunnels, likely lined with stalls for the big, domestic dinos. But none of the soldiers needed to enter. A herd of already saddled swahldets stood in a flat area outside of the stable entrances, munching contentedly on piles of fodder. Was herd the proper term for a group of swahldets? Booker supposed that there was an appropriate word in the local language. He decided that if he needed to ask Muñoz for that word, he was already staying in this universe longer than he wanted to.
The swahldets were big. Which was to be expected for a dinosaur. But, without the security of an Abrams tank wrapped around him, the immensity of the beasts struck Booker with an almost physical impact. Averaging about thirty feet in length, the Swahldets would’ve overflowed most living rooms, and perhaps the kitchen too.
It took a moment for Booker to remember the type of dinosaur a swahldet supposedly was. Hadrosaur, that was it. Although, like all of the dinos in this universe, swahldets may not be exactly the same species as what paleontologists back on Earth had excavated. Who knew how much evolution had adapted what stood before him away from those fossils? And that was before the locals started domesticating them. There might not be any more resemblance than circus elephants to mastodons, or poodles to dire wolves.
Zunta saw the soldiers approaching, and strode forward a few paces to greet them. He met Muñoz, and the two exchanged a few phrases in the local language. Zunta beckoned for the soldiers to follow, and headed for the swahldets, munching fodder contentedly in a ragged line.
Zunta paused in front of the first dino. He spun and eyed each of Booker’s men in turn, lips pursed thoughtfully behind his bushy, red beard. Presently, Zunta pointed at Olmer, gesturing the scout forward. Tentatively, Olmer stepped up. Zunta grabbed him by the shoulder and guided the man to stand close to the swahldet, jabbering and chuckling the whole time. The animal paused, glanced up at Olmer, and emitted a soft hoot. Then the swahldet busied itself with the fodder again.
“Zunta’s matched you up with this one to ride. Just stand there until he’s done picking out a mount for everyone. Then he’ll show us how to climb aboard.” Muñoz instructed.
“Is he gonna tell us how to steer too?” Olmer asked, a bit intimidated by the massive beast.
Muñoz chuckled. “Don’t worry. It’s not that complicated. They mainly steer themselves. I learned in no time.”
Olmer, feeling braver than a moment ago, reached out and patted the swahldet’s neck gently. “Why’d he pair me with this one?”
“I don’t really know.” Muñoz shrugged. “Size? Eye color? You can ask him later. He’s grown up with these animals. Maybe you and her just vibe.”
“Her?” Olmer stroked the swahldet’s neck with more confidence. The swahldet crooned and stretched her neck, luxuriating in the attention.
Muñoz squatted to get a better look between the dino’s hind legs. “Yeah. Her.”
While Muñoz and Olmer talked, Zunta methodically assigned a mount to each soldier. A moment’s contemplation of each rider was all he seemed to need before decisively pointing at a soldier and then a beast. Working with the efficiency of a matchmaker paid by the job, in a few minutes Zunta had every soldier standing next to a dino. The swahldets took this in stride, as if it happened every day.
Zunta whistled, and his swahldet galumphed over to his side. He patted its neck and spoke to the beast in soothing tones. Then he addressed the group. Muñoz translated.
“Zunta says to make friends with your mount. They’re smart enough to tell you’re nervous. He chose the best-tempered ones for you.”
The soldiers petted and rubbed their Swahldets’ necks and flanks. Some seemed to be enjoying the task more than others, but all of them managed to get comfortable with their animal. Pinsky’s swahldet gave him a loud sniff, then licked the loader with a sloppy, foot-long tongue. Everyone thought that was just hilarious. Even Pinsky after wiping the majority of the dino slobber off of his face.
Mounting and riding practice came next. Zunta demonstrated with an expert’s ease. He grasped a spot on the harnessing rig, and stepped on the swahldet’s front leg. The swahldets were trained to assist something like an elephant with its mahout, raising the leg so Zunta could scramble up to the saddle. The newbies tried to imitate him, awkwardly. Some of the locals standing around literally rolled on the ground laughing at the sight. Before long, though, everyone could at least clamber up and sit triumphantly in the saddle.
Riding turned out to be easier than mounting. Zunta steered his swahldet apparently with his knees through a series of turns, straightaways, and figure eights. The rest of the animals simply followed Zunta’s.
“This is a breeze. Just like a pony ride at the county fair.” Pinsky smiled at Muñoz. “Why’re they following like this?”
“Zunta’s swahldet is the lead bull of the herd. We’re riding his harem.”
“Oh. Imagine that!”
Within a half hour, the soldiers became comfortable with their swahldets. Booker’s anxiety over riding the immense beast eased considerably. This might just work out after all.
Pinsky, in particular, seemed to be taking to the new ride. He patted her flank. “I think I’m going to call her Tiffany.” He laughed. “Just like sergeant Mulroney’s ex-wife.”
“Not sure he’d like that.” Muñoz warned.
“Don’t rat me out.”
“You know she’s probably already got a name.”
“I don’t care. I’m going to call her Tiffany.” Tiffany nosed Pinsky’s chest, purring. “You like it don’t you, girl?” He waved a a hand in front of his nose to ward off Tiffany’s heavy, musky scent. “She does smell, though.”
Muñoz laughed. “Yeah. Let me know when you get used to that. I still haven’t.”
Pinsky noticed the blades strapped to Tiffany’s limbs and tail. “Wow, those look wicked.”
Muñoz followed Pinsky’s gaze. “I haven’t actually seen the in action, but Zunta tells me swahldets are trained to use them too. Supposedly, they can disembowel a T-Rex with a well-aimed slash.”
Pinsky fingered the flaked, obsidian edge on Tiffany’s foreleg. “Ow!” He drew back his hand, a tiny drop of bright, red blood on his index finger. “That’s sharp!” He sucked at his finger.
“Damned right they are.” Muñoz shook his head.
“Pinsky, keep your fingers away from those things, or Mulroney will hear about Tiffany straight from me.” Booker cautioned.
“Uh, yes sir.” Pinsky whipped his nicked digit out of his mouth.
Booker shook his head. “We might just get outta Dodge by sundown.”
Zunta had them all mounted up and arranged in a straggling line, when Zunta’s companions showed up. They were introduced as Chensa, Krilno, Lumfa, and Zoop, all shining examples of prehistoric manhood. Pinsky noted that Zoop gave off an insolent air. Not exactly a trouble maker, but somebody who might stick a harmless snake into your sleeping bag. Probably harmless.
The burly foursome rode male swahldets, carrying long lances with stone points. Various other weapons dangled from or were sheathed on their saddles to complete the panoply. Booker eyed the stone-headed tomahawks, clubs, and bows, thinking that any paleontologist would sell his first born to be here right now. He’d noted that the saddle
The four horsemen, as Pinsky thought of them, secured their mounts and lances, dismounted, and moved along the line of mounted soldiers, handing out a lance to each man. Zunta spoke to Muñoz, who translated.
“Zunta says that in the unlikely event of us encountering dinos, these are for fending them off.”
“How unlikely?” Pinsky wondered.
“Fending them off?” Hudson asked. “How’s that supposed to work?”
“Well, probably not that well.” Muñoz admitted. “It’s more of a last resort. Try not to poke yourselves, or other friendlies with them.”
Hudson would probably have had something to say about that, if Bunzo hadn’t ridden his swahldet into the picture right then. The apprentice witch doctor trotted alongside on foot, puffing and struggling to keep up with his mentor. As new to swahldets as Booker was, he could tell that Bunzo’s beast didn’t look all that healthy. It moved with an unsteady gait, seemed somehow swaybacked, and the feathering looked dull. Bunzo seemed ill at ease in the saddle, as well.
“What’s up with the good doctor? He looks like he’s even worse at this than us.” Booker muttered to Muñoz.
“I don’t think his duties take him outside of Bedrock all that often.”
Zunta and Bunzo exchanged a few terse words, which Muñoz didn’t bother to translate.
After a last, brief inspection of the group, Zunta climbed aboard his mount, and ambled off. His swahldet’s harem, bearing the soldiers followed close behind, stringing out in what must’ve been some kind of pecking order. Zunta’s buddies came next. Last of all, Bunzo brought up the rear, his apprentice still trotting at the sickly swahldet’s flank.
Leaning out to the side, Booker looked back along the line of march, curious at the spectacle. He was an officer in the armored cavalry, but he never expected to actually be riding a living animal. Not a horse, and certainly not a dinosaur in another universe. Be all you can be, he supposed.
Something odd caught his eye. Well, something odder than the situation already was. Bunzo nodded decisively at his apprentice. The gesture seemed to convey the weight of an order, or the confirmation of earlier instructions. This struck Booker as peculiar, ominous even. Maybe the witch doctor was simply reminding his acolyte to keep up some daily ritual, lest the sun refuse to rise each morning. But, somehow, the look in Bunzo’s eye boded otherwise.
The swahldets skirted downtown Bedrock as it crossed the caldera, aiming for a spot on the opposite wall. Any entertainment was going to draw a crowd, and this was no different. What was probably the majority of the tribe escorted the expedition, shouting and gossiping. Pinsky was glad to be atop Tiffany, given that many of these same citizens had tried to light him up like a tiki torch just hours ago. Now they cheered him along like he was a rock star. Normal human behavior.
Their path passed not far from the tank lager. Sergeant Mulroney, evidently having escaped the amorous clutches of Loonza at least temporarily, hastily assembled the remaining men of the platoon. He led them in a salute to Booker and the expedition members. The crowd loved that, recognizing a ritual when they saw one. Booker returned the salute, and held it for the period of time he deemed appropriate.
The looky-loos stopped short of the opening in the caldera wall the cavalcade appeared to be heading for. Pinsky, for one, didn’t blame them. It loomed dark and foreboding, a hot wind wafting from the enigmatic cave mouth.
“Is the back door Vinzi mentioned?” Booker asked Muñoz.
“I guess so. First I heard about it was this morning.”
As they got closer, a sulfurous stench stung Booker’s nose. The swahldets smelled better in comparison. That made sense. This whole area was volcanic. Any tunnel was likely to dive closer to the lava-laced guts of the place.
One by one, each swahldet-riding man disappeared into the dark opening. Zunta looked like he was simply commuting to work. Booker strove to imitate the caveman’s aplomb, all the while somewhat anxious. Half of leadership is keeping up appearances, he reasoned.
Pinsky didn’t bother to hide his trepidation. “Uh, how deep does this hole go?”
“Couldn’t tell you.” Muñoz answered. “Guess we’ll find out.”
A low-pitched rumble echoed from the tunnel mouth. Loose gravel cascaded down the slope on both sides of the opening.
“What if it collapses while we’re in there? Pinsky squeaked.
“Look at it this way.” Muñoz shrugged. “No place you can get buried deeper, cheaper.”
Nervous laughter rippled along the line of march.
The crowd fell into a profound silence as the expedition filed into the tunnel.
END.
Tune in next time for Part 18 – Back Door Dodge.
Find the rest of the Containment Protocol tale here: https://raytabler.substack.com/s/rays-serial-fiction
The cast of characters has grown to the point where I needed to construct the following table so I can keep track of who’s who. Here it is, for your benefit, as well. Bonus: a brief table of Bedrock names for dinosaurs, below that.
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