Chapter 1

“That was a quick two weeks,” I thought to myself as I looked around the room. Somehow, I knew I wasn’t in a hospital room, yet I felt no anxiety about the fact. The room wasn’t filled with the usual obnoxious array of beeping equipment or electronic monitors. Nobody was trying to drain my blood into little test tubes. There were no exam lights. In fact, there was no identifiable source for the daylight level illumination in the room.

“At least I got to say goodbye to my kids and grandkids,” I thought resignedly, although somewhat melancholic. I’d been expecting this for six whole days, now, although I thought I’d have at least one more week. That first day, something had caused my vision to blur, so I went to the doctor. He sent me to get some sort of scan where they put my head in a tube. Doc and I went back nearly forty years to when I’d been a SEAL. He’d been the one to patch me up three times when I took a bullet or piece of shrapnel during one of our numerous redacted missions. Since he had a poker face to be envious of, I knew the look on his face meant bad news.

“How long do I have?” I asked, always wanting the bad news first.

“Two weeks, a month tops; it’s advanced inoperable brain cancer,” he answered solemnly. I didn’t even bother asking if there was anything he could do. Doc would have added the good or potentially encouraging news right after giving me the bad news. When he didn’t, I knew none would be forthcoming.

“I can give you something if it becomes too painful, Dave,” he offered. “In fact, I’m surprised that you’re not in agony.”

“I’ll let you know,” I replied, standing and shaking his hand. I saw the unshed tears in his eyes just before I turned to leave. We’d been friends for decades, starting in the military. I was more concerned about having to tell my wife than I was about dying. I quit being afraid of dying after my second brush with death all those decades ago. Back then, Doc could, and did, do something. After my second brush with death, I took the attitude that I would live my life to the fullest each day to minimize any regrets when it was over. I also made my decisions hoping to have a short list of transgressions to defend on the day my faults were judged.

When I told my wife, Beth, we wept together, in my case, it was more for her and the kids’ loss than mine. At least I had good insurance that would leave her set, financially. The house was paid for, we had no outstanding debt, and had a hefty savings account. Over the years, she had done a spectacular job of managing the money we earned.

The kids rushed home from the far ends of the country. They’d never known me to be sick enough to miss so much as a day of work, so they knew this was bad. My kids and I get along well. I’d been a fairly strict father, enough to keep them out of serious trouble. Still, I had given them enough freedom to make their mistakes and to learn from the consequences.

They learned that the talk I insisted on after those mistakes wasn’t an “I told you so,” but more of an after-action analysis to help them understand their mistake in hopes of avoiding similar errors in the future. While I held each of those discussions privately, I could tell that the kids shared them as I saw the younger kids avoiding several mistakes their older siblings had previously made.

Aside from the time I spent serving my country, my wife and family were the focus of my life. Yes, I had my hobbies: guns and the outdoors, as in hunting, fishing, camping, and hiking. What we brought home from hunting and fishing was eaten. There are no hunting trophies in our house. The closest thing to hunting trophies are the photographs and fond memories of our times together. I limited the guns to those for hunting, shooting competitions, and defensive purposes. I made sure they were always locked up and taught each of the kids how to handle and use them safely and properly. Once they learned those lessons, I let them decide if they enjoyed guns. If they never touched a gun aside from when I was teaching them, that was their choice, and I respected it.

To my wife, I was a big teddy bear. Anything she wanted – that we could afford – she got, even if it meant that I didn’t get to go fishing, camping, or hunting.

My youngest made it home yesterday, the last of the four to leave the nest and the last to return. Her red, swollen eyes told me that her siblings had already warned her. As I had with the others, we cried together for a few minutes while I held her. For those few precious minutes, she was once again my little girl. Nothing felt different when I went to sleep snuggled against my wife last night.

It sure felt different now.

I laughed when what had to be an alien entered through an unseen door, partially because this was something my kids would do as a joke. However, having been retired for twenty years now, and even though I spent twenty or more hours a week volunteering for various charitable organizations (when I wasn’t camping, hunting, fishing, or hiking with the grandkids), I read voraciously. After going through all the interesting, printed books I could find, I began reading online stories and stumbled across the StoriesOnline website. cmsix’s John and Argent captivated me. After reading it, I eagerly read everything else in the same genre.

Seeing a tall, pale green alien enter my room right after I had died, just struck me as funny.

“Hello, Dave. Given some of your reading material, I’m sure you have a fair idea of why you’re here,” he said, barely stifling his own laughter. “The situation is slightly different than what you’ve been reading, though,” he warned, still trying to control his laughter. “We’re recruiting contestants for the ultimate reality show, one broadcast to hundreds of billions of viewers in multiple arms of the galaxy.

“The show is an ultimate survivor show, starting with sixty-four contestants. Your sponsors, Labmil and Rondk, have selected you if you agree. Each contestant must agree to participate since at least half of them will die on the planet we send them to,” he explained.

“Since each contestant has already died, given the choice of immediate death or a chance at a new life, who wouldn’t agree?” I wondered.

“We will place each of the sixty-four competitors on a planet in a parallel universe. The planet is at a stage roughly 40,000 years ago relative to your current Earth time. You will be given an implant in your brain so you can receive occasional data feeds. Your body will be repaired and your health optimized until it is perfect. You will be regressed to the age of eighteen, will be in the best physical condition you have ever achieved during your life, and will be immune to all known toxins, illnesses, and diseases present on the planet.”

Not wanting to grow a beard or have to shave with a knife, I chose to accept the elimination of all hair except on my head and eyebrows, and in my ears and nose.

Greenie continued explaining the contest, “At the beginning of the contest, you will be set down on the planet’s surface at 8 a.m. local time, guaranteed at least four hours of safety before facing anything dangerous unless you go looking for it. The closest competitor to you will be a several-day walk,” he explained.

Then he explained the rules.

Each contestant would begin the contest with the same things:

1. Ultra-lightweight chainmail shirt reaching mid-thigh when standing. The chainmail is matte black, not shiny silver.

2. Neck-to-toe thermal regulating body sock to protect against heat, cold, and biting insects.

3. Buckskin pants and a tunic long enough to cover the chainmail

4. Pair of high-tech alien moccasins

5. Filled, flexible canteen that is composite but looked like it was made from animal hide.

6. Same type of pouch with six-day supply of dried meat

7. Small, round-point shovel head (no handle)

8. Hatchet (with handle)

9. 24” cable saw blade (to be attached to a bent green branch to make a bow saw)

10. Pouch with flint, steel, and tinder

11. Skinning knife with belt scabbard

12. Utility knife with scabbard

13. Fighting knife with eight-inch blade and belt scabbard

14. Machete with belt scabbard

15. Backpack

16. Alien-design rifle

17. Alien-design pistol and holster

18. Waterproof blanket to keep me warm, even down to 30 degrees below zero

19. Web belt

20. A sewing kit with ten various-sized needles, as well as a small, flat spool (like a flattened cardboard TP roll) of white, tan, black, green, and brown thread that would never run out.

21. And most importantly, a never-ending roll of TP (The paper was also useful for cleaning wounds as it provided antiseptic and antibiotic properties, and even helped wounds heal faster.)

The items we were given were meant to help us last longer than we would without them, although they in no way ensured survival.

The rifle and pistol fired nearly silent energy pulses that could be set to kill something as big as an elephant, stun a person for up to fifteen minutes, or anything in between. Every contestant would have the knowledge implanted to instinctively know exactly how to set and fire the two weapons. The rifle was semi-automatic, could fire two hundred times before having to recharge, and was accurate to a thousand meters if the shooter was that skilled.

The recharge time for two hundred pulses was ninety-three minutes, although it automatically began recharging each time it fired. The pistol was similar, but only carried one hundred pulses, and was only accurate up to two hundred meters, again, only if the shooter was really skilled. The aliens made every item using only materials found on the new planet, although many of the items were made from refined metals or composites created with material from the planet. The only off-planet things allowed on the planet were the contestants.

Contestants began the game with knowledge of the topography within roughly a ten-mile radius of where they were set down on the planet. As they moved about, their knowledge of the area increased. If they moved north ten miles, they now had the knowledge of an additional ten miles from their current position. They also knew the language of any existing villages within a two-hundred-mile radius of everywhere they’d been.

After their arrival, the contestants received an information download each time they accomplished a specified task for the first time or reached certain technological milestones. The only example they would give us of a specified task was killing our first game animal. When a contestant did that, they received an information download on skinning, field dressing, and butchering all the game animals on the planet.

If a contestant already knew the information, they would receive a bonus information download instead, one not normally given to the contestants. Alternatively, if they already knew the information, they might receive some sort of goods instead of the information. When a contestant qualified for a download, they heard a two-second mental “ding-ding-ding” tone like a slot machine paying off.

Information and bonus items were also doled out for other reasons. Doing things that the audience found exciting or entertaining was one.

Also, reaching a specific technological milestone the earliest in the show’s history qualified. Building and launching the first rocket into space wasn’t realistic, but it was the only technological milestone they offered as an example.

At the end of each week, based on an objective scoring system, the most successful contestant that week would receive a bonus gift. In addition, there was a weekly vote by the viewers (they had to pay to vote; can you imagine?). Whoever won the viewer favorite each week also got a bonus of some sort. The quality of the item was dependent on how many votes they received, hence, how much money the show made on them.

At the end of each of the first ten weeks, the show would eliminate the four contestants with the lowest score unless natural attrition had already reduced the number of remaining contestants to or below that level.

For example, if eight contestants died the first week, nobody else would be arbitrarily eliminated at the end of that week or the next, although additional contestants could still die.

There would be no more than sixty contestants left after the first week, fifty-six after the second week, and so on. No more than twenty-four contestants would remain alive after ten weeks.

Each time a contestant died, the surviving contestants would mentally hear a few seconds of the chorus from Another One Bites the Dust, something else the audience found hilarious. The number of contestants wouldn’t be reduced below twenty-four except by natural attrition and the contestants wouldn’t know where they stood in the rankings each week except for the top contestant when they were rewarded.

Each week after the tenth week, the show would stop the scoring for the four lowest-scoring contestants, but they would remain alive. Their video feeds would continue, and the show could use them for filler if they wanted to.

Those who made the final twenty-four but ended up eliminated from the contest would hear the first three notes of Taps upon waking the next morning to let them know they’d been eliminated. It was possible that two dozen contestants would live out their remaining life span as normally as possible on this planet.

I talked more with my sponsors, Labmil and Rondk, before the contest began. They felt like they had finally hit the jackpot with me. Each team of sponsors paid for a tract on Earth. Each tract held roughly one sixty-fourth of Earth’s population, a number approaching 130 million people. The tracts were randomly computer-generated and randomly numbered. For one day, every male who died in that sector was available for them to select from. Their chosen contestant in the first ten contests had never made it beyond the first six weeks.

Hoping to change their luck, my sponsors tried determining what combination of skills and knowledge the most successful contestants to date had. They chose me because I had both military training, survival training, and extensive experience as a hunter and outdoorsman.

One main rule was that we could not approach or interfere with another contestant. Approaching within two miles of another’s territory would make an alarm of sorts sound in the approaching contestant’s head. Approaching within one mile of another territory would cause the immediate death of the transgressor, even if they didn’t make contact. We could, however, approach an abandoned territory where the contestant had died. Of course, we would have no idea we were approaching an abandoned territory. Since there was no longer a contestant, we wouldn’t get the warning.

On the designated day, Labmil and Rondk were excited, and wished me luck right before I was transported to the surface. Planetside, the weather was still cool, and I had to start moving to warm up. We’d been told that it was very early spring, and I could still see snow in the distant upper elevations. Areas in the middle elevations still had patches of snow in places shaded from the sun. Aside from the cool temperature, the first thing I noticed was the way the air smelled. Much as it did on Earth when I was deep in the forest camping or hiking, the air had an earthy smell. Unlike the forest on Earth, however, the chemical “bite” was missing from the air. I scooped up a handful of soil and enjoyed the scent of the rich loam.

After a quick look around to verify where I was, I headed for a large cave about a mile away. I knew this could put me in danger sooner than the four-hour guarantee, but was confident that I was ready for it. A ten-minute jog put me near the cave. After looking around to make sure I was safe, I started making three torches by using the machete to cut several dry pine branches into four-foot lengths, split one end, jammed dried grass into the split, and smeared pine pitch all over it.

Starting a small fire, I lit one of the torches and headed for the mouth of the cave. The sun let me see about ten feet into the cave and I saw and heard nothing. Tossing the torch into the cave, I still heard nothing, so I started throwing fist-sized rocks. The third rock got a reaction. The fourth rock got an even louder and angrier reaction. When the cave bear was well clear of the opening of the cave, I fired three shots, still not convinced that one could kill something so massive. He dropped like a puppet with its strings cut.

Suddenly, I realized that, since I already knew how to skin and field dress game animals, I knew where every village within a hundred miles was and whether the village was Neanderthal or Cro-Magnon. In addition, since I was the first to kill a game animal this time, I was given the location of a nearby salt deposit. I began firing into the cave, spraying twenty lethal shots spread across the back of the cave. Hearing nothing else, I started into the cave with my second torch. This time I had my pistol out, ready to shoot anything that moved. Aside from bones and bear scat, the rest of the cave was empty. The cave was huge and looked like it would make a good home.

I spent much of the rest of the day working on the bear. I had to skin it, gut it, and start drying the meat. I dragged dead wood inside the cave for a fire, and then cut and lashed saplings and branches together with vines to make drying racks. I was relieved after I started the fire to see the smoke drifting up towards the cave’s roof and not filling the cave with smoke. That meant the cave had a natural outlet through the ceiling somewhere. I made a mental note to look around outside to find out where the smoke went. Twice during the day, I heard the music announcing that one of the competitors had died.

I was exhausted when I finally fell asleep, but had meat drying, a good supply of dry firewood, and a handle for my shovel. I had shoveled all the bones and bear scat outside the cave, and scraped and stretched the bearskin, using thin strips cut from the edge of the bearskin to tie it to the frame. I also had a thick pile of moss, grass, and leaves to sleep on. Most of the remaining dry wood was stacked across the entrance of the cave making it impossible to enter without making a racket.

As I drifted off to sleep, my thoughts were on my wife and kids, missing them, and especially missing holding my wife as I fell asleep. Right before I was transported down to the planet, Labmil and Rondk had told me that my family was doing well and that my funeral had been well attended. I’d been gone for three months already.

DAYS 2 and 3

Upon waking, I heard the music play three separate times announcing that three more competitors died in the night. Despite still being tired, and having stiff and sore muscles this morning, I forced myself to get up and get started, wishing I had some coffee. Dressed and armed I headed out to relieve the overnight buildup of hydraulic pressure.

Eating cooked bear meat while I worked, I began chopping and sawing down twelve-to-eighteen-inch-thick trees with straight trunks. Thankfully, the entrance to the cave was only ten feet wide, and it just took five trees to close enough of the opening to leave only a four-foot-wide doorway. What made me realize that this cave was meant to be inhabited was a ten-inch deep and eighteen-inch-wide groove across the top of the cave opening that would steady the top of the timber wall I was planning. I dug down four feet to the stone cave floor and then measured and cut each trunk to be a tight fit from the bottom of the trench to the top of the groove in the roof of the cave opening. After wedging each trunk in the trench, I filled the hole around it with rocks and dirt, tamping the dirt down with another section of tree trunk.

“What I wouldn’t give for a couple of bags of concrete right now,” I thought, then wondered about the possibility of finding limestone to use in making mortar. Smacking myself mentally, I remembered that most caves were created by water dissolving the limestone it flowed through. With all the caves in this area, limestone was probably all around me, literally.

Nevertheless, that task would be saved for another day. Closing the entrance to the cave was my top priority.

Seven inches behind my new wall, I set two more posts into the ground, one to each side of the door opening. Between the opening for the door and those two posts, I dropped logs that I split using the hatchet and wooden wedges I fashioned. The destroyed wedges left me with a nice pile of splintered wood that I could use to start fires.

I did use two surviving wedges to leave a narrow gap in the horizontal split logs that comprised my “door” so that I could peek out and not find an unexpected surprise awaiting me.

When I finally laid down to sleep the third night, I did so securely. I was grateful for that, having heard earlier in the evening the music making me aware of the deaths of two more competitors during the day, joining the three from yesterday morning and two from the first day.

Again, I fell asleep thinking about the family I’d left behind, but the tears lessened each night.

DAY 4

When I woke up, I instantly knew that I had completely secured my living space sooner than any previous contestant had, even those from previous seasons of the show. As a reward, I found an old-fashioned brace and bit auger. There were several sizes of bits for it, including two to drill holes for the lag bolts I’d also received. I’d been sent enough long lag bolts to bolt together the logs covering the cave entrance. Also included were a sturdy wooden door, three heavy-duty hinges, a two-foot chain, and a sturdy padlock with keys.

The star bit would let me drill holes in the rock walls around the entrance to secure the front wall. Lags bolts to fit the holes had been provided. Whistling occasionally, I spent half the day installing the heavy wooden door using the hinges. Once the door was installed, six heavy U-shaped iron brackets completed the installation. I bolted three brackets on the inside of the wall on either side of the door. One was a foot from the top of the door, a second a foot from the bottom of the door, and the third right in the middle. Now, I could use three of the split logs in the brackets to brace the door when I was inside. The chain and padlock would secure it when I left. A handsaw and a pair of good steel wedges had completed the gifts, or so I thought.