“All right, let’s mount up!” he called to the soldiers. He turned back to Kasshas and Yasuren. “You have a good night, all right?” He gave them a wave, glad to see the day over.
The two bowed politely to him.
He turned and found Alacea standing there.
Ben sighed in relief as Patricia finally appeared. He waved her over and turned back to Alacea.
“Thank you very much for all of your help,” he told her.
She bowed to him.
“It’s been a long day,” Ben said. “So what do you say we meet tomorrow and maybe talk about how we can… I don’t know… do more to help or… Patricia, you know what I want to say,” he finally finished.
Patricia nodded.
Alacea’s ears flattened as she tried to divine the meaning behind the poor grammar.
Patricia didn’t bother translating for Ben, fielding the question herself.
The priestess’s eyes narrowed. Her Tesho wanted her to stay at the temple, not in his den? Or… was it the female Dark One just telling her that?
Truth be told, it didn’t matter. All she wanted at that point was to sleep in her own den, in her own temple, surrounded by her friends. Whether a mistake in language or culture or some other unknown motivation, the Dark Ones had given Alacea an opportunity to do exactly what she wished to do, and so she decided to take it. She could think things over in the comfort of her own home later.
She bowed.
The meaning behind her words was obvious, and Ben bowed to her. “Thanks again, Alacea.”
The priestess gave them both a look, one of confusion to Ben, one of suspicion to Patricia, and started up the temple steps.
Ben turned to Patricia and blew out a tired breath. “Let’s go home.”
The two started for one of the vehicles nearby, but before they could go more than two steps, Patricia snapped her fingers and stopped.
“Shoot! I was going to ask about the ‘tesho’ thing,” she said, turning to go wave down Alacea again.
“Don’t sweat it,” Ben said. “I already got it. ‘Tesho’ is ‘leader,’ and ‘myorin’ is advisor. Yasuren and Kasshas have the same thing.”
“That makes sense,” Patricia agreed with a smile. “See? I told you it wasn’t an insult.”
“Man, that was just going to bother me,” he told her with a sigh. They started walking toward the LTV again.
Alacea spent almost two hours checking on the other Mikorin and saying hello, assuring them that she was safe and would be spending their first night back in the temple with them. The young priestesses were overjoyed by the return of their Na’Sha, and for the first time in a long time, they felt like things were back to normal, regardless of the Dark One camp just up the road from them.
By the time the priestess had finally made it to her own den on the temple’s second floor, it was almost midnight. Taking a small cup of water, she poured it into the firestone lamp next to her bedding and watched as the rocks inside started to glow, filling her room with a soft, warm light.
The last time she was here, she was so upset by the events happening around her that she had been unable to fully appreciate the ramifications of her actions. Now, days later, with a return of some semblance of normalcy, those thoughts finally fought their way to the fore, demanding their turn.
She sat on her knees in front of her mirror and absently picked up her tail brush. She gave her lavender tail a few strokes, her mind on autopilot, until her eyes came to rest on the small painting she kept next to the mirror.
Alacea looked at the eyes of the young tod who dutifully looked back at her. The fur of her tail went slack, retreating from the brush, and her ears flattened fully against her head until they were almost invisible against her hair.
She closed her eyes and spoke to the tod in the painting.
Ben didn’t bother undressing. He simply shrugged off his tactical vest and web gear, hung his pistol belt on the corner of the cot where he could reach it easily and fell onto the scratchy green blanket and flattened pillow.
He was going to sleep tonight. He was too tired not to. Any bad dreams or nightmares were going to have to wait until tomorrow night.
The exhausted man rolled onto his side and grunted as he felt the miscellaneous garbage he kept in his pants pockets stick into him. Growling, he got up and emptied them onto the foot locker at the foot of his bed, his impromptu night stand.
He paused as, along with the pens, ID cards and notes, a folded piece of paper hit the top of the foot locker.
Ben stared down at it as if it had appeared from nowhere and had no idea what it was or where it come from. He took a breath. He hadn’t unfolded it since he had printed it off on the Neil Armstrong. It had been a sudden, last minute whim. He wasn’t even sure why he had done it. He just knew that if he didn’t, he wouldn’t have another chance. He’d never see it again.
But now he wasn’t even sure he wanted it.
He reached for it, stopped for a moment with his hand in the air, and then quickly snatched it up. His fingers curled tightly around it as if trying to squeeze the memories out… or perhaps the pain.
Ben took a breath and quietly admonished himself. He was a Ranger for Chrissakes.
His fingers slowly uncurled and he gently took the corner of the paper with his other hand, slowly unfolding it. When the otherwise normal piece of eight-by-ten printer paper was fully unfolded, he looked down at it and bit his lip.
Ben’s own smiling face looked up at him, a beer bottle in one hand and his arm wrapped around the shoulders of the other person in the photo, a pony-tailed blonde making a ridiculous duck-face at the camera.
Tears came to his eyes. He remembered the exact moment the photo had been taken in their favorite bar an hour after their trip to the post office, their “wedding” photo.
He fought the tears back and took a breath before gently, almost reverently, propping the piece of paper up on his foot-locker like a framed photograph. The widower stared down at it for another few moments, as if unsure what was supposed to happen now.
What happened was nothing.
He reached up and took hold of the string that connected to the dim sixty-watt light that illuminated his hooch.
“’Night, Jess,” he whispered and pulled the string, filling the room with darkness.
Patricia yawned as she shouldered open the door to the pre-fabricated command office, letting the flimsy plastic door shut behind her and being very careful not to spill her coffee. She hadn’t gotten much sleep, but she had decided to rise early and get to work anyway so she could finally get her desk arranged and ready to roll by the time Captain Gibson got there.
Between their arrival, searching Pelle for the villagers and pursuing them into the hills, none of the new officers had had time to get their offices situated. But hopefully, now that things were finding normalcy, she could get her things arranged and start the normal work of an intelligence officer.
She didn’t know what Gibson’s battle rhythm was going to be. When he would want briefings, or what he would want to see in them. Also, without computers that meant no presentation software. Everything would have to be done by hand. Mark One pencil.
Putting her coffee down, she nearly missed the small plain brown parcel sitting on her desk with her name and duty title stenciled on it. She picked it up and examined it. It had weight to it, and she guessed it was
a book of some kind. It had most likely been delivered by the same Air Force convoy that had come to help yesterday.
Tearing the paper off, she saw the plainly typed military style title page and grinned. “Yes!” she hissed almost diabolically, her eyes lighting up as she read the words.
U.S. Army Intelligence Va’Shen Vocabulary List – Version 3
There was a typed letter resting inside the cover. She took it out and read over briefly.
ALCON,
Please find enclosed with this letter the latest version of the Va’Shen language vocabulary list. This list has been validated by CJTF-OUR CJ-2 and the Va’Sh Cultural Affairs Office and is considered the most up-to-date and accurate list available. If you have any questions, feel free to reach out to me at Jamieson Airfield.
Sincerely,
Dr. Everett Sinclair, GS-15
Va’Sh Cultural Affairs Officer
Combined Joint Task Force
Operation Unified Resolve
Patricia flipped through the reference like a little girl with a new book she had been waiting to come out for months. A cursory examination showed that it did, indeed, include many new words she hadn’t known… that no human had known… until now. The Cultural Affairs Office must have worked overtime to get a list together so fast.
On a whim, she flipped toward the back end of the book, curious to see if the captain’s mystery word had, in fact, been correctly identified. She found the “T” section and flipped a few more pages.
Then stopped.
Her smile fell.
Her eyes widened.
Tesho – (n) Husband. Can be used as common or proper noun depending on context.
“Oh no,” the rapidly paling translator breathed. She quickly flipped to the English section and found the “H” section.
Husband – (n) Tesho.
“Oh, shiiiiiiiiiit!” she hissed. She flipped back to the Va’Shen section and found the “M’s.” It took her a few minutes of looking as she wasn’t certain of the exact spelling, but she finally found it second from the bottom.
Myorin – (n) Wife. Can be used as common or proper noun depending on context.
She gently closed the book and tossed it on the desk.
“Well,” she whispered. “Shit.”
To be continued…
The Vixen War Bride Page 27