When he asked how they had hidden things from him, they did what Murdock could only describe as chuckle. It really was no trick for them to tell his mind that there was nothing to see or nothing to touch. They used this trick a lot in the early days in order to watch the humans and observe them up close. The trick was much like a movie special effect, only a lot more elaborate. The eye sees or fingers feel, but before the brain can interpret the sensation or image, sections of the scene or that which was touched are removed or added, and the human brain couldn’t tell the difference. Murdock found that many times since their meeting, he had seen Beron although he was not really there, and vice versa.
When he asked about Rose’s ability to complete his thoughts, they laughed, at least as Murdock perceived it, and told him to ask her. They had nothing to do with it.
#
When the sharing ended and Murdock finally woke up, Rose had crossed her arms on his chest, her chin on top of her hands as she studied his face.
“Good morning, sunshine,” she said with exuberance.
“Is it morning already?” he asked through half-open eyes.
“Somewhere in the universe, I’m sure it is,” she said, “but not here, I think. I haven’t been outside to check.”
“How long were we out?” he asked as he gently moved her so he could get up.
“Seconds or weeks, who can tell?” she asked. “I think they can stop time, or our perception of it, at will.”
“Did they tell you that?” he asked.
“No, just some healthy speculation on my part.”
When he rolled over to look at the fire, he saw that it had burned down and gone out. He touched the cold ashes.
“We were out for several hours, anyway,” he stated. “Maybe days.”
“So, what did you think?” Rose asked as she rolled over on her side to watch him.
“I don’t know,” he said. “I have such a headache and haven’t had a chance to process all the information yet. What’s your take?”
“Well, I don’t have a headache, and I feel really well-rested,” she said cheerfully.
“I do have a problem with the control thing, though,” Murdock said over his shoulder.
Rose looked at him with a strange expression. “Sometimes, you are extremely intelligent and insightful,” she accused, “and at other times, extremely dense!”
“What?” he responded defensively. “I just don’t like the idea of being controlled!”
“Do I control you, Kevin?” she asked.
Murdock knew her question was a trap, but his head throbbed, and he didn’t resist. “No, you don’t, because I won’t let you,” he told her. “No one controls me.”
Rose rolled over and laughed.
“Of course I control you!” she teased. “The same way you control me!”
“I do no such thing,” he responded, shocked and defensive.
“Then, dear one, maybe you need to re-think your definition of control,” she said as she got off their mat.
“I don’t get it,” Murdock said as he relit the fire. “How do you control me or me you?”
“Influence, dear, influence,” she said vehemently. “Something politicians and lobbyists know a lot about.”
Murdock looked at her, dumbfounded. He opened his mouth to say something and then closed it without a word. He had to admit — influence was a form of control.
“To control someone or something means to change it,” she explained. “Influence is a form of control. Indirect, but it still is, and I do hope I influence you.”
“Oh, you do that quite well,” he admitted. “I just got this feeling that we are Beron’s pets or something.”
“Oh pooh,” she exclaimed. “I hate to break it to you, but I don’t think we rate any higher than a minor nuisance to most of the Oomah. We are no threat to them. And do you think they would hesitate to swat us out of existence if we became one? Beron has been nice and helpful, but he could make things a lot easier for us if he wanted to, but I know he won’t. He cares enough about us to keep his nose out of our business. At least, that’s what I think.”
“What about the guardian business?” he asked.
“Oh, it’s real,” she stated. “No doubt in my mind they are serious!” Rose frowned a little, thinking deeply. “It’s hard to explain,” she continued, “but I think on one level they admire and maybe even envy us, but on another level they treat us like flies or something equally non-threatening.”
“Do you really think so?” Murdock asked. In some respects, he felt better knowing more about Beron and the Oomah. But he wished he hadn’t asked other things.
“At least we know what crawled up the white one’s ass,” Rose said.
“We do?” Murdock asked innocently.
“Yeah, he needs to quit being woken for the likes of us mere humans.” She looked sideways, smirking at Murdock. “Or he needs to get laid!”
Murdock started to chuckle, “Yeah, I agree,” he said. “Maybe both!”
Rose laughed. “The point is, sweetness, don’t worry about it so much,” she advised. “Change or do what you can, and let the rest go.”
“I guess you’re right,” he admitted. “Speaking of getting laid . . .” Murdock grinned sideways at her.
“What about the deer hunt?” she asked as she hurried to remove her dress and headed toward the mats.
“They won’t care if we are a few hours late,” Murdock retorted while stripping down himself. “You can trust me on that!”
#
Over the past few weeks, conditions at the transport pod had changed dramatically. Whittier believed that he could do anything he wanted — at least, that was how Burns saw it. Once a day, all who wanted to eat were required to present themselves to Whittier and beg for a very small portion of the bland oatmeal. Some women had been caught receiving more than their portion during the preparation and had been beaten severely as punishment.
Whittier himself had carved or burned a “W” into their left upper breasts. Most of the women had, at some point, given Whittier, Burns, or Metzger some sort of sexual favor, mostly as a way to mitigate the severity of any impending punishments. With the exception of Metzger, Burns, and Whittier, all of the colonists were naked. And those who were naked slept outside the pod unless invited in. Because the pod contained the only chair in God knew how many light years, Whittier behaved as if it was his throne.
Burns had seen Collier skulking around, trying to scrounge for whatever he could, and this made Burns think about his own position. He knew that his and Metzger’s positions were transitory. Opposing Whittier was dangerous. Burns was certain that if Whittier was angered, he was quite capable of slitting throats while they slept, as that appeared to be his way of doing things. Burns also knew that Metzger, who backed Whittier all of the time, was equally capable of cutting throats and was currently on Whittier’s most favored list. Burns suspected Metzger’s clandestine relationship with Krysia helped him to stay in favor.
#
At the end of an otherwise unremarkable day, Collier got in line to receive his meager ration. At the bottom of the ramp, everyone received a small, metal plate for their ration. A young Asian woman stood in front of Collier. She appeared very lithe, reminding Collier of a ballet dancer.
“Look at this!” Whittier said to her as she walked up to face him, stopping about four feet from him; her plate held out in front of her. “Burns, check and see if this is a male or a female. I can’t tell from here!”
Burns stood still, appearing unsure if Whittier was serious or not. Metzger leered at her suggestively and openly. Krysia, who was massaging Whittier’s shoulders from behind the chair, chuckled. Whittier waited. Burns seemed to finally figure out he was supposed to check and started toward her.
“I’m a woman,” she said, defiance obvious in her tone and carriage. “Why is it you can’t see that when I can tell from here that you’re a fat bastard?”
Whittier’s eyes widened and he c
huckled. “Well-l-l, a feisty one. I find that refreshing!”
“If you’ve finished leering, I would like my ration,” she stated with a touch of sarcasm.
“You shouldn’t be so sassy when asking for a favor,” Whittier warned.
“A favor?” she asked, her voice getting shrill. “You call what you’re doing a favor? Do you think we like to beg for a little taste of food?”
“I could care less what the others like. I’m in charge here, so you shouldn’t press your luck, Missy!”
The girl took a deep breath and stood in such a way that told the others, and Collier, that she was bored with their leering.
“Well?” she asked holding her plate a little closer, still holding her defiant, bored pose. She moved a little closer.
As she moved, Metzger snapped out his hand and smacked the side of her face with the back of it. Collier cringed. The force of the blow was enough to cause her to drop the plate, which clanged noisily on the deck, and she stumbled to the side; her head turned, looking down at the deck. She slowly stood up straight, glaring at Metzger. Everyone could see tears start down her cheek, but they didn’t hear a whimper from her.
“Pick up that plate,” Metzger ordered.
The female started to bend over to pick up the plate. Collier had seen Metzger’s leg muscles tense a little and he was sure she saw it, too. She used her foot to sweep the plate out of Metzger’s reach. The plate slid noisily across the compartment. She walked over, picked up the plate, and resumed her position in front of Whittier. Metzger had moved a little forward to be closer and more intimidating. Again, she held out her plate.
“I want you to get on your knees and beg,” Whittier commanded.
Collier ran up to interpose his body between Metzger and the girl. What are you doing, he thought.
“That’s pretty tough of you,” he said to Metzger. “What is she? A hundred pounds lighter than you, at least? A foot shorter? Definitely a few years young . . . ,” Collier was cut off by the same back-handed slap that Metzger had given the girl. Collier’s head turned at the force of the slap, but it didn’t have the same effect on him as on the girl.
“I’d mind my own business, if I were you, Collier,” Whittier warned. “Look, everyone, the coward is finally standing up for someone. All of a sudden he’s very brave!”
Everyone present giggled, except Collier and the girl.
Metzger started to punch Collier. Collier managed to catch Metzger’s fist before the blow could land. Both men were locked in a struggle, each arm shaking from the strain and muscle tension. Burns was stepping slowly forward, drawing his twelve-inch machete as he did so.
“Burns,” Whittier yelled. Burns stopped his advance. “Metzger, you two can take it up outside at a later time!”
Metzger and Collier let go and glared at each other.
“I’ll look forward to settling this later,” Metzger said quietly as he grinned at Collier. Metzger walked back to his position.
“Missy, pick up your plate and bring it here,” Whittier commanded. The girl complied and Whittier gave her a small ration. “You two were entertaining, to a minor degree, so the both of you can share the ration!”
“It isn’t enough for one, let alone two,” Collier protested. She deserves more, he thought.
“Take it or leave it. Get out, both of you. Next.” Whittier commanded.
He followed the girl out of the pod. Once outside he started to move off to let her eat in peace.
“Part of this is yours,” the girl said to his back.
“It’s okay, you eat it,” Collier responded.
“You could at least join me and maybe have a little,” she offered. Such a sweet voice she has.
They found a spot well away from the others.
“My name is Mei Lee,” the girl said as she sat on the grass.
“Collier,” said Collier as he sat facing her. He could see a nasty bruise starting to discolor on her cheek. “That’s going to hurt.” he said pointing at the bruise.
“I’ve had worse,” Mei Lee said shrugging. “Why did you interfere?”
“I don’t know,” Collier shrugged. “It just didn’t seem right, to me, that someone that big should be beating someone so much littler.”
“Things sure have changed since we got here,” Mei Lee said, obviously, to Collier, trying to change the subject, as she took a small bite of the bland mass that passed for food.
Collier nodded as he took a small pinch. Sitting there, while she was eating, was not easy. He liked being close to her and enjoyed the conversation. “Why did you get mouthy with Whittier?” he asked after a pause. He was looking more for conversation than information.
“I don’t know,” Mei Lee replied. “I guess I don’t like my sex being questioned or being ogled by fat bastards.” They both chuckled a little and took another bite.
Collier nibbled periodically and looked at Mei Lee. He liked the way she looked and he liked her sass.
“Like what you’re looking at?” Mei Lee asked after a short while.
“Sorry,” Collier apologized and looked away a little. “I didn’t mean to stare.”
Mei Lee shrugged. “No big deal. I suppose I owe a good look to my ‘knight in shining armor’,” she said with a smile and a chuckle.
“I’m no hero. Not by a long shot,” Collier tried to assure her. As he reached to take another bite, Mei Lee touched his hand lightly.
“In that split second, you were. At least that’s how I see it,” she said. “And that’s all that counts. Being heroic is just stringing those split seconds into several instances of longer duration.”
“Well-l-l, look-e-e here. Collier is sitting with his boyfriend,” Metzger taunted as he came storming up to the pair. Collier got to his feet. “You got a beatin’ comin’, Galahad,” he said sternly to Collier.
“You just leave us be,” Collier responded roughly. He was taller than Metzger, but his muscle mass had diminished through starvation.
Metzger stood looking at Collier; fingering the hilt of his twelve-inch machete. “Don’t push it, Collier,” he warned.
“Metzger, Whittier wants us,” Burns said as he was trotting up to Metzger.
Metzger looked at the two and then turned toward the pod.
“I’d make myself scarce for a while, if I were you two,” Burns warned after Metzger was out of ear-shot. Burns hurried to follow him.
13
Several hours later, Murdock and Rose emerged from the main entrance to the cave complex and started walking down the path toward the woods and the stream at the bottom. The majority of their gear hung from various points on Murdock’s body. He carried his bow and wore the quiver with their precious few arrows. Rose, who wore her buckskin dress, walked with a spear and carried four more diagonally in a bundle behind her back. Murdock had rigged a way to tie the spears together tight enough that they could be carried silently, but could be dropped instantly by simply pulling on a leather tie at the chest. An outside observer who didn’t know better would have taken them for a frontier Native American couple.
As they usually did, they walked with Murdock in the lead. As their journey progressed, Murdock’s mind continued to roll over the conversation between himself and Rose several hours prior. I believe Rose is partially right about the Oomah, he thought. I would agree that they would be powerful allies, or dangerous enemies, but I believe Beron, at least, did have a stake in our personal lives and what happens to us. Before he learned how powerful they really were, Murdock had felt what he thought was genuine affection coming from his large friend during casual visits. In his heart, Murdock believed Beron loved his favorite mate and had truly worried about her the night Murdock treated her paw. I remember Beron, that night, was not projecting any feelings that I could pick up on, he thought, but Beron was too concerned about his mate to not project something. He suspected that Beron was closely guarding his thoughts and feelings so that no one in the cave would pick up on them.
When
they reached the stream, they decided to rest and fill their water skins before pressing on.
“You look like a beautiful princess,” Murdock told his wife, smiling at her as she filled the water skins while he watched for threats.
Rose grinned back at him with the little sideways tilt to her head that she often used when being clever or seductive. “Thank you, love! I feel very special this morning, as a matter of fact,” she said, smiling broadly.
“It’s more like early afternoon.”
“If you say so, love,” Rose said and sighed deeply.
“What, no quips?” he asked, putting on a mock look of surprise.
“I’m not in the mood.” She sighed again, smiling lovingly up at him.
“Are you in the mood for a repeat performance?” Murdock quipped, chuckling.
“No, I’m not, thank you very much. That last performance was sufficient to last me a good long time,” she smirked. “Well, a few more hours, anyway. I was just thinking that I can’t remember ever being this happy.”
“I know what you mean,” he said, nodding in a knowing way. “Me either! I do have a little surprise for you, though.”
“Yes, dear one?” she asked as she got to her feet after filling the water skins.
“I’ve decided that we should trade weapons,” he stated. “You’ve become quite good with the bow, and I think you deserve to take the first shot if we see a deer.”
Rose’s mouth opened in surprise. “I don’t know if I could,” she protested. “You’re much better than me, and a lot is riding on taking another deer. You better do it!”
“Rose,” he said with as much confidence as he could muster, “you need to learn to do this, too. What if I should be injured to the point that I can’t go hunting or even pull the bow?”
Rose shook her head. “No, I refuse to believe that anything will happen to you,” she stated flatly.
Displaced Page 17