The Space Between

by Scott J Robinson

  The man grunted but Meledrin bowed slightly in response before waving and also saying, "Hello." Then, crouching down, she laid a hand on the ground and looked up with a question in her eyes.

  Now what? Did she want to know grass? Or ground? Or England? Or Nottinghamshire? Or Sherwood Forest? Kim was saved the trouble of figuring it out when a sound intruded. There was a clatter and a screech of metal as another figure stepped into sight beyond the split in the tree. This one was about the same size as Meledrin but wore some kind of colorful, full-length armor and had no hope of getting out into the open. It stood, silent and watching.

  Elves and dwarves were easy enough to recognize, but the newcomer was beyond belief. Maybe it was a supposed to be a robot, which was stretching things even for Robin Hood's fans. The thick, chunky armor, with huge rivets holding together the seams, must've been taken through the slot piecemeal and assembled inside. The head swiveled one way, then the next, as if it might find some alternate escape route.

  "Hello," Kim said, waving slightly. "How many more people have you got in there?"

  The robot stopped his inspection of the tree. Kim had the feeling he was staring straight at her but couldn't be sure.

  After an interminable moment in which nobody moved, the robot took a slight step to the side and started to raise his arm.

  “[Look out.]”

  Keeble grabbed Kim and pulled her a few meters to the side.

  "Hey, buddy, watch it."

  “[That thing'll fry you where you stand.]”

  "What?"

  In the tree, the robot was having difficulties. Apparently there was enough room in there for three people, but not enough room to raise his arm. The bulbous appendage hit against the wood three times before he gave up.

  “[Isn't that a shame?]” Keeble said. He flung himself back over the fence and strode purposefully to the tree. He looked as if he wanted to attack either the tree or its occupant, but the first was pointless and the second impossible to do through the crack. So Keeble stood talking animatedly to the armored figure instead. The tone was more apparent than ever, and Kim thought she could pick the profanity from amongst the clutter.

  Perhaps the robot stared back defiantly. It was impossible to tell. It did try to raise its arm again, as if reality might've ducked out the back for a coffee and let things slip out of control. Kim knew how he was feeling.

  "Hello, Kim," Meledrin said.

  Kim snapped her attention to the tall, thin woman while Keeble continued to rant.

  "What's going on?" she asked. Finally, the figure in the tree turned laboriously and disappeared.

  Meledrin spoke, but Kim hardly took any notice. She squinted into the tree, trying to see where the robot guy might be hiding.

  "Meledrin," Meledrin said again, pointing at herself. Then she pointed to the ground and said a single word in the strange language. “[Where?]”

  "Can't help you." Kim turned and quickly made her way back towards the festival. Wondering where she could report what she'd just seen. Wondering exactly what she intended to say.

  Ten minutes later, Kim had started to calm down and think clearly. Back amongst the stalls she slowed down and breathed deeply. It was street theatre. She wasn't convinced but she was not going to report that an elf and dwarf were setting up house in the Major Oak.

  She took another deep breath and stopped to look around.

  Nearby, traditional Scottish dancers were leaping their way through a number to the accompaniment of pipes and drums. An old man was regaling people with stories of dragons and damsels in distress. And, further down the aisle between the tents, the two monks were just pulling out the 'one wheeled chariot of doom' for another session.

  Street theatre, Kim thought again.

  She checked her watch and pulled out her phone to see if Nina had called again. Of course not. She was stuck here for a while longer yet. "Damn." She walked to the cricket field, looking for something to occupy her mind, and discovered she was in time for the archery demonstration the wicked witch had mentioned earlier. A group of archers were checking over their equipment just outside the roped off area of the camp. About fifty meters away, down past the grandstand, some squires, or something similar, were erecting targets.

  There was still a bit of crowd left over from the tourney, and fifteen minutes later more people started to arrive. Kim caught sight of Meledrin and Keeble as the mismatched pair crossed purposefully to where she sat halfway along the range. Meledrin joined her on the grassy bank and the man stood stock sill at the base of the slope.

  "Why you..." Meledrin gestured, wiggling her fingers in the air as if attempting to entice forth the elusive word. "Why you go?"

  "Oh, so suddenly you speak English? How surprising. I went because I didn't want to sit in the forest playing games."

  "I no understand much. Games?"

  "Yes, games."

  "I know not this."

  Kim sighed.

  "Think you I speak English?"

  "Obviously you do."

  "Now, yes. Before, no."

  "Yeah, right. Go play with someone else." Kim turned to look out over the field as a trumpeter, bright blue feather in his floppy hat, blew a fanfare.

  "Play?" Meledrin said. “[These people talk in circles. And backwards and forwards.]” At the bottom of the slope, Keeble grunted and shrugged, paying more attention to the arriving spectators than the conversation. Kim tried to ignore everyone. “[It will take forever to understand them.]”

  “[I can barely understand you half the time.]” Keeble fiddled with the gears on his mechanical hand.

  "I no speak English before. Learn. Listen, follow. Much speak." She gestured at the growing crowd around them. "Elves have language knowledge. Learn quick."

  As more people started to arrive Keeble moved to sit beside his friend. Kim considered returning to her car.

  "I no speak English. When enter from..." Meledrin stopped and pointed at a tree.

  "Tree."

  She shrugged. "Tree? When enter from tree I knowing words you say. Elf and dwarf you say. What?"

  “[What's all this talk of elves?]” Keeble asked.

  Kim ignored Keeble's gibberish, answering Meledrin. "Because that's obviously what you're supposed to be."

  “[You haven't seen elves around here, have you, Meledrin?]”

  "Supposed? What 'supposed'?"

  “[I don't like elves. All that singing and poetry.]”

  "Meant. That's what you want people to think."

  "Ah. If we supposed elf and dwarf, why not?"

  “[Poetry won't get you through the winter. It won't make life easier.]”

  Kim was ignoring Keeble because she had no idea what he was saying. Meledrin seemed to consciously avoid looking his way.

  Kim tried to gather her thoughts. "You aren't an elf because this isn't Midkemia or Middle Earth. It's just plain old Earth." Kim thought that maybe the man really was a dwarf. Under a meter fifty, wasn’t it? She didn't know. He had to be close but she was pretty sure that wasn't what Meledrin meant.

  "Why think?"

  "Because he's short and squat and hairy. And you're tall and thin and pale."

  "If that description elf, why I not?"

  "Because they don't exist."

  "Don't exist?"

  "Aren't real."

  "Ahh. I sorry hear. How say? Other elves knowing will not be please not existing, I think."

  "I'm sure."

  "What make elf else?"

  Like a large portion of the world Kim had read Lord of the Rings and seen the movies, but it had been a while ago. "Pointy ears. They all have pointy ears. And an affinity with trees and forests. Skill at archery."

  "Pointy ears?"

  Kim made a triangle with her fingers and held it up to her ear. "Pointy ears." She didn't know why she was bothering. Just trying to be polite again.

  "Ah." Meledrin pushed her hair away from her own ear. It wouldn't be used for impaling fruit, but it was poin
ty.

  "Huh." Kim said. "The makeup guy needs an Oscar as well." It looked very real.

  Meledrin was moving on though. "What affinity? And what archery?"

  "Affinity is a close connection. A link."

  "Connection? Link?"

  "And archery is that." Kim pointed out onto the cricket field where three of the archers were lining up facing the targets that were down in front of the grand stand. They seemed to be using handmade recreations of traditional weapons.

  "Archery? Ah." Meledrin climbed to her feet and stepped lightly through the crowd. “[An opportunity to order my thoughts, if nothing else.]”

  "Where's she going?" Kim decided the woman was quite possibly insane and should be stopped. She jumped to her feet and followed, though not nearly as gracefully.

  "Sorry. Coming through. Sorry."

  A string of muttered curses and surly oaths followed her path, and the sound swelled as Keeble barged along behind. She stumbled down to the fine leg boundary and hurried towards the archers.

  Meledrin, calm and assured, was talking to the first of the men when Kim arrived.

  "...use archery?"

  "Pardon?"

  "Will let me use..." she seemed to realize that she hadn't used the word 'archery' correctly and simply gestured to the bow.

  "You want to use my bow?"

  "Your bow? Yes."

  "Sorry, love, can't let you do that. I put a lot of time and effort into this bow. Almost eighteen months. I can't afford to get it damaged. We'll be showing people how to use bows later though. Come back then."

  "I not damage bow. I skilled, but friend Kim not..."

  "Believe," Kim suggested, sighing and shaking her head. "Think it's true."

  "Not believe." Meledrin nodded her thanks. "I use once? If not believe, give back."

  The next archer in line cleared his throat. "Let her have a go, Bill. What harm can she do with you standing there watching?"

  "You let her use yours then."

  "Sure. Okay." The next man held out his bow for Meledrin to take, eying her slim form appreciatively as he did so. Ulterior motives abounded. "Here, Ma'am. Try mine."

  Kim sighed and shook her head again.

  Meledrin bowed her thanks, a graceful maneuver that left the receiver gaping, then stepped lightly forward. Before she took the weapon she pulled her hair back into a thick ponytail and tied it with a green ribbon pulled from her sleeve.

  "Fine bow," she said in a hushed voice. She wove her hand in another of the strange, intricate patterns then finally took the bow. She plucked an arrow from the man's quiver, muttering under her breath, and nocked it as she tested the tension of the string. Kim watched silently. She knew almost nothing about archery, but the other woman seemed sure and confident.

  "Where?" Meledrin gestured vaguely.

  For a moment Kim wasn't sure what she meant. "The targets?" She looked to the right. "The targets are just there."

  "There?" Meledrin laughed. "But they there."

  The man who had loaned her his bow shook his head. "What did you expect?"

  "I not use that close target since child."

  The first archer laughed. "Show us then, love."

  Keeble looked bored, standing and shuffling his feet at all the talk he apparently couldn't understand. He was muttering something under his breath.

  Meledrin raised the bow, drawing the arrow back to her cheek. "A fine bow," she said again. "But wrong weight slightly." With that she let fly and, a moment later, the arrow struck the target, dead center.

  The crowd surrounding the field, growing restless with the wait, clapped loudly. Some cheered and whistled. Kim looked from Meledrin to Keeble and back again.

  A couple of the archers still waiting their turn whistled appreciatively.

  The owner of the bow cleared his throat. "The weight isn't out, actually," he said. "I'm left-handed."

  "Left-handed?"

  "Yeah." The man mimed using the bow left-handed.

  "Oh, yes. Should known." Meledrin plucked another arrow from the quiver and, using the bow left handed, put the second arrow into the target, right beside the first. She nodded in satisfaction. "That much better. Fine bow."

  There was more cheering from the crowd and more gaping from the archers.

  "I not prove tree affinity, Kim, so would like I do else?" With a muttered phrase, the woman took another arrow and turned to look towards the other end of the cricket field. "What is that?" she asked, gesturing.

  "What?" The breeze was chasing a plastic bag across the outfield on the other side of the pitch. It was about a hundred and fifty meters away. "That's just a bag. Rubbish."

  "Rubbish? Not important?"

  "That's right."

  Meledrin raised the bow, drew and fired in one smooth motion. She hardly seemed to aim at all. A couple of seconds later, the arrowed pinned the bag to the outfield.

  The owner of the bow was impressed. "Wow."

  Kim was impressed.

  Meledrin didn't seem to think anything of it. "Need help, Kim. My people killed now."

  "What?"

  "Think you that perhaps these warriors assist, if spoke you with them?"

  "Which warriors?"

  Meledrin gesture at the archers and then some of the armored figures who'd taken part in the earlier mock battles.

  "They aren't warriors. They're just people in costumes."

  "What costumes?"

  "A costume is... What am I saying? You're in a costume, you daft woman."

  "You still not believe?"

  "No."

  Meledrin took Kim by the arm in a firm but gentle grip and started to lead her away, back towards the main green and the Major Oak beyond.

  "Wait a minute. What's going on here?" Kim said, twisting free. Meledrin reacted, but an instant too late, and she could do nothing. As Kim dropped instinctively into a fighting crouch, Meledrin looked shocked. Keeble was smiling slightly.

  One of the warriors standing nearby, a big man with shining armor and a long sword, stepped forward to assist. It was Sir Douglas, from earlier, seeing another opportunity, Kim supposed. He was about fifty centimeters taller than Keeble, but he stood in front of Douglas and didn't back down. Apparently the little man's amusement only went so far when it came to violence.

  Kim tried to divide her glance between Keeble and Meledrin, not sure who she should be worried about. Meledrin was obviously in charge, but the time had come for action.

  "Please, Kim. Come, I show. You believe." Meledrin bowed her head slightly and waved her fingers.

  "This is just crazy."

  "Perhaps, Kim. But there perhaps be more —"

  “[Forget it, Meledrin,]” Keeble said. “[She can't help us now.]”

  Kim turned to look at the little man, but he was staring out at nothing and not really offering any clue as to what he was saying. Sir Douglas was looking mighty annoyed at being ignored.

  “[Of course she can. All we need is —]”

  “[No, look.]”

  He pointed, and Kim realized he wasn't looking at nothing. But she didn't understand why it was so fascinating. It was just a bird.

  Kim blinked. She licked her lips and blinked again, narrowing her eyes against the afternoon sun. The bird was further away than she had first thought but it was huge, as big as a jumbo jet and even less likely to fly. "Jesus."

  But it wasn't really a bird. It was a bit like a bat, with huge, leathery, strangely jointed wings. And, even stranger, there were three metal cylinders strapped beneath it.

  Kim looked at Keeble, then Meledrin, then back out at the thing.

  “[I think we should take cover.]”

  The thing kept coming, whatever it was, and a minute later it was over the cricket field, only thirty meters off the ground. Kim thought she could hear the thrumming of its wings. There was no other sound. The crowd had fallen silent. Everyone was watching.

  A huge, winged shadow skittered across the cricket pitch as the creature str
aightened, steadied.

  "I don't like the look of that." Kim instinctively took a step back. And just as she did, a pair of square, shining canisters dropped from the middle of the three cylinders strapped to the creature. Her heart rate skyrocketed.

  “[Get down,]” Keeble yelled.

  Kim stared at him stupidly. She couldn't exactly understand the words, but she knew what he meant and still she didn't move. Keeble grabbed her arm and pulled her to the ground. He and Meledrin both covered their heads, but Kim looked at the crowd and the two packages — she couldn't help but think of them as bombs — falling towards the grandstand. Time seemed to slow, stretch, contort. She could hear the rushing of blood in her ears.

  People were scattering in all directions, but not quickly enough.

  5: Weapons of War

  The explosions came in quick succession. The ground shook and a huge gout of flame shot into the air. Shrapnel whizzed past, thudding into trees, people, and armor, ripping holes in tents. A wave of heat followed. Something heavy hit the ground a few meters away, and Kim, in a daze, turned to look. A fallen branch had crushed a tent at the edge of the forest. A rain of leaves drifted down as well. It was beautiful. Mesmerizing. Until the sounds of the screams hit her like a Mohammed Ali jab. She snapped her attention to the crowd. Or what was left of it.

  The grandstand had collapsed. The timber seats were burning, the metal frame twisting in the heat. People were still running, but not many. Most were lying on the ground. Some writhed in pain, but for the most part they were still, burnt black in a moment. In a dozen places small fires burned where something like napalm had set people and clothes and grass alight.

  "Shit." Kim got to her knees and stared. "Shit, shit, shit." She wanted to run and help, but she stayed rooted to the spot like the Major Oak. Her feet stood still while her mind ran in circles.

  Closer, more people had been injured. One woman bled from a head wound and Sir Douglas, teeth gritted, was plucking a shard of metal from his arm. Another piece was lodged in his breastplate. While Kim watched, the knight tore a strip off his clothing to bandage his wound then went to help someone else. And still Kim couldn't move. She knelt and stared while people wailed and screamed around her. She tried to swallow, but her mouth was so dry.