The Remnant

by Paul B Spence

  "Maybe, but if it comes to us or them starving, I'll pick them. I hope it won't come to that, but I want you to think about what we could safely trade to them for food. Surely the ruling families will have a surplus. They looked well-fed. If we trade something they want with them, then no one has to go without food. Yes?"

  "I'll see what I can do. I don't think I could live with myself if we took food from them, though."

  "You say that now, Amber, but you don't know what it is to be truly hungry," Dr. Bauval said. "When I was a boy on Farflung, we had a really nasty crop blight one year. Things got very bad. My family was poor. That winter, we stole food to survive. My father shot a man who was trying to steal our dog – to eat. It was a bad, bad winter."

  There was an uncomfortable silence, then, "I don't suppose those sauriods of yours are edible, are they, Doctor?" asked Tebrey.

  "No, none of the local plants and animals should be eaten. They accumulate some rather toxic alkaloids in their tissues. The fish are even worse; they actually accumulate heavy metals in their skin and organs. Makes them very tough, as well."

  "Okay, well, that answers my next question. So we have to stick to the Terran transplants for food. Mason, please try to think of something we can trade. I seem to remember them really liking my combat knife. Maybe we could trade one for a cow or something."

  "I'll try."

  "Do you think Anderson would go for people camping in these rooms?" Tebrey asked.

  "I don't know. Maybe. They are nicely sheltered."

  "If we closed off the map room, I think he would be agreeable," said Bauval. "The other two rooms didn't have much, as I seem to recall."

  "I'll ask him when we go back up, then. We can only fit about half of our people in the shuttles, and it's going to get very cold tonight. We may lose people to exposure if we don't."

  Dr. Anderson was quite agreeable. He knew the dangers of the environment as well as anyone. "As long as the map room is saved, I have no problem with it. I'm sure that the other two rooms will be sufficient for most of the rest of the personnel."

  Tebrey was glad that the archaeologist seemed to be coming around to the correct mind set. He had gone to him prepared for an argument.

  The sun was going down, and its last rays colored the world in blood. The wind was picking up and the temperature was already beginning to drop. Tebrey felt his uniform shift as it adjusted its weave tighter to conserve his body heat.

  The students had gathered a large quantity of firewood. They had two small fires going in sheltered ruins and one lit down in the underground chamber. It was already noticeably warmer down there, although the smoke was a problem.

  The two shuttles and the skimmer were parked on the landing pad. People were already inside, getting comfortable. He could hear a murmur of discontent from the people who had to sleep below ground; they had to sleep on bare rock instead of comfortable acceleration couches.

  "That could be a problem," he said to himself.

  Do you think they will fight over the shuttles? Hunter asked.

  Not tonight, but if we lose anyone to the cold, I can't say they wouldn't in the morning, Tebrey thought in reply. How are you doing?

  Me? I'm fine, Hunter thought back. The wind is a little uncomfortable, but in the shelter of the ruins, with the fires, I'm warm enough.

  Hungry?

  Well, yes. But so are you.

  Tebrey had skipped his evening meal and offered it to his companion. Hunter had refused to eat if he didn't, so they both had gone without. It wasn't the smartest thing either of them could have done, but they both understood why.

  Just let everyone make it through the night, he thought as he huddled down behind a ruined wall. Tomorrow we can see about getting more food.

  That morning, a small party had been assigned to go to the village and try to exchange trade goods for food. It was decided that they were going to have risk using the skimmer. In low-power mode, held close to the ground, the skimmer wouldn't have an energy signature much larger than the laser rifles. Tebrey hoped that it would be small enough not to attract the wrong kind of attention, but he agreed that they didn't have much choice. It was too far to the village to walk. Lieutenant Christopher and Sergeant McGee traveled with Dr. Mason to the village in the skimmer. Tebrey had wanted to go along, but they were unsure what the effect on the locals of seeing his panther would be, so he was vetoed.

  Once they arrived at the village, they were quickly escorted to Lord Jeroen. The three of them stood stamping and shivering in the great room of Jeroen's spacious half-timbered house. The large fireplace put out a considerable amount of heat, but they didn't dare to go stand by it until invited.

  "Lord Jeroen, thank you for meeting with us," Mason said formally in Lyonan.

  "You are always welcome here. What brings you to my home through the snow?"

  Mason glanced meaningfully at the guards and servants in the room. "We would speak to you in private, if we may. It is a matter of great import."

  "I see. Before I agree, where is your tame barbarian, Tebrey? He is well?"

  "He is quite well, Lord. He wished to come with us, but he had other duties to perform. We will tell him you asked of him, if you wish."

  "That would be well." He made a gesture with his hand, and the guards and servants vanished in seconds. "What is so important that it brings you here now?"

  "It is difficult to explain, Lord," Mason said. "You see, we are not from the north."

  "I never thought you were. Although I'm sure the story worked well enough for most."

  Mason smiled. "I thought you might have suspected as much. May I ask where it is you do think we are from?"

  Beside her, Sergeant McGee was carefully keeping his pistol held out of sight. He hadn't been sure this course of action was the best. The lieutenant agreed with him. Therefore, they were both prepared for the worst, although neither of them spoke Lyonan.

  "Ah, it is difficult for me to say. If what I surmise is true, then all is well. If not, you may think me a fool, which would be unfortunate."

  "A fool? Never that, my lord. At most, I might think you were mistaken about something."

  He smiled, then turned serious. "It is said that our people came to this world in great ships, larger than those that sail the seas. How that could be so, I don't know. But we know we are not from here, although that was many years ago. It is said that one day people will return from the stars to take us home again. Have you come to take us home?"

  Mason let out the breath she had been holding. She'd been right about him. "I'm sorry, but no. In fact, we seem to be stuck here ourselves."

  "But you are from the stars," he insisted.

  "Yes," she answered, not without hesitation.

  "I thought as much. It was your tame barbarian who started me thinking. I thought to myself, how could it be that a barbarian couldn't ride a horse? The answer which came to me was that he may never have had to. Come, sit by the fire and tell me this tale."

  Mason filled the other in on what was being discussed. They moved gratefully over to sit in the leather-upholstered chairs and started to relax a little. Jeroen's reaction had been so natural that they felt immediately at ease.

  "It is true that your people came to this world many years ago from another place. We come from that place also, or from other places the people went. A long time ago there was a war. This war was so terrible that entire worlds died. Each world was cast to its own fate. Many years later, some of the worlds began to prosper once again. They began to go to the other worlds and so, eventually, to here."

  "This is much as it is written in the great books."

  "I'd love to see those books one day," Mason said. "But anyway, in our travels our people ran into aliens – call them demons – in between the worlds. These demons kill all they find. We came here hoping to find a way to fight the demons. But they came here before we could finish. There was a great battle in the sky, and our people left. We hope they are well. But the de
mons now control the sky. We cannot go home; we are stranded here, maybe for a long time."

  Chapter Twenty-Seven

  Tebrey had spent the morning making sure the shuttles couldn't lift off. It had taken hours of work and the help of the two pilots. He didn't want anyone trying to get to orbit and alerting the Nurgg to the fact that they were on the surface. The longer it took the Nurgg to notice the planet, the better.

  "Commander, I've been looking for you." Dr. Bauval puffed up to Tebrey as he and Hunter were about to enter the woods. "May I walk with you?"

  "Certainly, Doctor," Tebrey said. "Hunter and I were about to start our morning patrol."

  "You don't look like you slept much."

  "I didn't. Every time I fell asleep, the fire died down and I got cold. It was a long night."

  "Yes," the scientist replied. He looked embarrassed. He had spent the night on one of the shuttles. "I wanted to talk to you about a few things."

  "Then talk."

  "I asked around. You haven't eaten since yesterday."

  "Neither has my partner. No one seems worried about that."

  "Tebrey." Bauval held out a ration packet. "Please, we need you at full strength. Your companion can hunt."

  Tebrey wanted to take the food so badly it hurt, but he couldn't. He shook his head and fought back the tears he couldn't let anyone see. "I'll eat later."

  They walked together in silence.

  Snow was falling thickly from a steel-grey sky. Already nine centimeters of it lay on the ground, and it didn't look likely to stop anytime soon.

  "I really hate snow," Tebrey said.

  "Why do you hate snow, Commander?" asked Bauval. "I think it's rather pretty."

  "It's unnatural," Tebrey said sulkily.

  "It's about as natural as it gets."

  "You think it's natural to live in a place where part of the atmosphere crystallizes out and falls to the ground? That seems strange to me."

  "That's because you grew up underground on a ball of rock. Snow is a normal part of terrestrial-type worlds."

  "I know it snowed on Earth, but it just doesn't seem right."

  "You do? You seem to have an odd knowledge pool."

  "Not really. If it's related to military history, it's in my brain."

  "You never forget anything?"

  "Not about that; it was burned into my head in training."

  "So how does snow fit in?" Bauval asked.

  "Lots of famous battles were fought in the snow: General Washington's attack across the Potomac under the cover of a snowstorm; the dictators Napoleon and Hitler making the same mistake of attacking Moscow in the winter. Many of their men died of exposure in the snow. The march of the People's Free Army, led by Sun Lou to attack the launch facilities of Beijing during the Great Exodus, is another example of a historical snow battle. There are others."

  Dr. Bauval shook his head. "Sometimes you amaze me, Commander."

  "It's just knowledge, Doctor." Tebrey shrugged. "I also have a lot of time to myself between missions. I tend to spend it reading."

  "Does anything in that store of knowledge say how to survive winter conditions?"

  "We'll need warmer clothes, maybe furs."

  Hunter growled and glared at them, so they both laughed.

  "There are going to be other problems soon, I'm afraid," said Bauval.

  "Like what?"

  "Like disease. Winter is always a bad time for it."

  "I wouldn't worry about that. Your immunity implants..." He trailed off at the look on the scientist's face. "What?"

  "Very few of us have actual implants. The marines, Mason, and you may be the only ones. The rest of us just received immunity injections. They're good for about a month or two."

  "I didn't realize that. Well, food and shelter will help alleviate the danger."

  "I hope so. Let's hope Mason has some luck getting that food."

  Sergeant McGee flew the skimmer back later that afternoon. Tebrey met him at the pad. Almost thirty centimeters of snow lay on the ground by then, and a strong wind carried a warm air mass, laden with moisture, in from the north. There would be much more snow by morning. Tebrey had forced some of the graduate students out into the cold to use pine branches to clear the snow from the pad. The skimmer still slid a little when it landed.

  It was bitterly cold, having dropped well below freezing.

  "Where are the others, Sergeant? What's happening?" Tebrey yelled over the wind.

  "Dr. Mason is making some progress, but that Jeroen is sly one, sir. He's agreed to help us out, but he wants you to come there first."

  "Why?"

  "I don't know, sir. You know I don't speak that gibberish, sir. The doctor asked me to come and get you and bring you to the village. She said to bring those extra trade goods we set aside, too."

  "I'll not go without Hunter," he shouted.

  "She said bring him along, sir. I think she hopes to impress them with him or something."

  "Okay, hold on. I need to tell the others."

  Tebrey ran through the snow and yelled for the students to bring out the stacked supplies.

  A few minutes later, the three of them were loaded and airborne. Hunter's fur steamed in the heat of the cabin, and he had to use all his willpower not to shake the melting snow from it. He didn't think the others would appreciate being wetter, especially since visibility was low and the sergeant had to fly mostly by instruments.

  No, now would not be a good time, thought Tebrey to him, having caught his intentions.

  I wasn't going to. You know that you get irritable when you don't eat?

  I'll keep that in mind.

  They landed much closer to Renivee than they ever had before, but there was little chance of being seen. Tebrey only knew the village was there because the instruments showed that the wall was two meters away. The snow blinded them.

  "This way!" shouted McGee.

  They ran through the frigid gale and came up against the side of the wall. They then followed it around for a few meters to the gate.

  "Hoy there!" McGee yelled.

  The gate opened, and they were met by a guardsman in leather and fur who led them to Lord Jeroen's house. The guard stared wide-eyed at Hunter but didn't say anything.

  They stood in the entryway to Jeroen's home and steamed and dripped. Servants brought warmed blankets for them, even Hunter.

  "They seem to be taking to him rather well," Tebrey remarked.

  "That's because they knew about companions," Mason said from a doorway to the left.

  "How's that?" said Tebrey.

  "Remember those barbarians to the north? There's a legend here about a man who came from the north with a giant black cat. He is some sort of lawbringer in their folklore."

  "That's interesting," Tebrey replied. "So what does that mean?"

  "It means we have a new bargaining chip. Come on." She turned and went through the door.

  They followed.

  The great room beyond was richly decorated with tapestries and statuary. There was a roaring fire and a modest banquet laid out on a table to the side. There was also a heaping platter of fresh bloody meat.

  "They call you Commander, yes?" asked Jeroen. "That is a military rank?"

  "Yes," Tebrey replied. "Mason, what's going on?"

  "I came clean, Tebrey. I told him everything."

  Tebrey stared at her in consternation.

  "Lord Jeroen, may I introduce you to Hunter?" Mason said, ignoring Tebrey.

  Hunter walked up to Jeroen and looked him in the eye. To Jeroen's credit, he didn't flinch. Hunter then nodded. He's okay. Is that for me? he asked, looking pointedly at the fresh meat.

  Jeroen laughed before Tebrey could even translate. "That is indeed for you, noble Hunter." He gestured for servants to place the platter of meat on the floor for him. "Will you join me, sir?" he asked Tebrey.

  "I'd love to." He wasn't too sure about most of the food on the table, but the bread and cheese looked good. He was h
ungry enough to try the meat. Hunter's carnivorous thoughts certainly helped to reinforce that mood. He followed Jeroen's example and placed the same foods on his platter as the lord did.

  "Let us sit and talk." Jeroen led the way over to the fire, gesturing for the others to help themselves.

  Everything tasted extraordinary, seasoned in ways Tebrey had never even imagined. A servant placed a large goblet of dark red wine within easy reach and moved away. When tried, it proved to have a sharp, smoky flavor that he instantly fell in love with.

  He wanted to get another plate of food, but Jeroen indicated he wished to talk, so Tebrey handed his plate to a servant and sat back in his chair with a sigh, savoring the wine.

  "Lord Commander, Mason has indicated that you are a great leader among your people. You command their fighting forces. Do you really know so little about fighting from horseback? Or was that an act?" he said with a smile.

  "I'd never ridden a horse before," Tebrey said carefully. "I have other ways of fighting."

  "You are under no obligation to, as a guest, but would you be willing to show me a little of your ways of fighting? I've an interest in the arts martial."

  "Most of what I know is fairly lethal. What did you have in mind?"

  "I've seen you fight with a sword. How about an unarmed bout, until one loses consciousness?"

  Tebrey smiled. "I suppose I could demonstrate something like that."

  Jeroen stood and clapped once.

  A large bear of a man entered the room, larger than any of the natives Tebrey had seen so far. He was still shorter than Tebrey by at least fifteen centimeters but easily outweighed him. His face and arms were seamed with scars.

  "Mitra here was a gladiator for seven years. He never lost. Are you still willing?"

  "Of course. Here or outside?"

  "Oh, here would be quite fine."

  Tebrey stood and stretched, wishing then that he hadn't eaten so much. Stay out of this, he thought to Hunter. He undid his holster and knife and handed them to McGee.

  "Sir?"

  "I'm fine, McGee. This will only take a moment."