Refuge: The Arrival: Book 1

by Doug Dandridge

  The soldiers stood around and cheered the two immortals, those who weren’t tending to wounded or providing security. Hands reached out and patted the two men on their armor, while the civilians came out of the village and added their voices to the din. Kurt kept hearing one word repeated over and over again. Kaiser. Not a title he really wanted, and one he would fight against to his last breath.

  “I feel so tired,” he said to Levine. “My vision is blurry, and I feel sick to my stomach.”

  “It is the overheating,” said Levine, putting a hand on his friend’s shoulder. “I was not sure how it would affect us here. But it seems to be as much of a burden on this new world as the old. Even more so, since we can push our metabolisms so much higher here.”

  People kept crowding in, wanting to see the conquering heroes, and Kurt felt as if he wanted to vomit. Not the most heroic thing I could do this day, he thought.

  “Give us space and air,” yelled out Levine, pulling his friend away from the crowd. The soldiers cooperated and cleared a path for the immortals to take in air.

  “What is the effect of this overheating?” asked Kurt, leaning on his stronger friend.

  “It causes damage to the tissues,” said the ancient Jew. “Especially the nervous system.”

  “But that will heal, will it not?” asked Kurt, taking a couple of deep breaths and feeling his body begin to recover a bit.

  “It will heal,” said Levine, a frown on his face. “It will heal. But some things may be lost.”

  Kurt wondered what his friend meant by that, as he forced one foot in front of the other and kept breathing in the cooling air, while the people around him kept yelling that one word. Kaiser.

  Chapter Ten

  Major General Zachary Taylor looked up in delight once again at the Elf woman who stood in front of his desk. She has to be the prettiest thing I’ve ever seen, thought the commanding officer of the U S 3rd Armored Division. About one hundred and forty centimeters tall, with golden blond hair and cat green eyes, she stood there in her white robes and smiled back at him. He wondered for a second if she was reading his mind. Too many things going on at once, he thought. Too much to grasp at one time. A new world. Magic. Telepathy. What the hell would come next out of the woodwork and surprise them, or bite them on the ass? Hopefully from now on it would be something as pretty as this, though he wouldn’t bet his life on it.

  “Can’t be much more to surprise us, sir,” said the Private who had come to headquarters with the woman, along with his platoon leader and squad leader.

  And he’s, so far, one of the strongest of the telepaths, thought the General. Meaning he would probably be transferred to communications in whatever force they formed after the modern weapons ran out. And become an officer whether he wanted to be or not.

  The elfin woman made some gestures with her hands and mumbled some incomprehensible words. The guards in the tent tensed, and one raised a weapon and pointed it at the woman. Taylor held up a hand and then gestured down. He didn’t think this beautiful creature was trying to pull something on them. And if she was, she probably already had them bewitched.

  The woman gave another haunting smile, closed her eyes for a moment, then looked straight into the eyes of the General. He felt as if something was gently touching his brain. Something that meant no harm to him, but gathered surface information. The woman closed her eyes again and opened her mouth to speak. The General sat up in his chair as heavily accented English came out of her mouth.

  “I can now speak your language, thanks to the power of my Goddess,” said the musical voice that came from her mouth.

  “If you could speak English,” asked Colonel James Harris, the G2 Intelligence Officer, who had come to the tent in body armor, helmet and with full weapons load, “why didn’t you do so earlier?” The Colonel looked like he wanted to point his weapon at the Elf and blow her head off.

  “I think it’s magic, sir,” said Private Maritoni, looking at General Taylor and avoiding eye contact with the pissed off Colonel.

  “I think the Private’s correct,” said Taylor, giving his G2 a look that told the man to shut his mouth. “I still think it’s crazy, but it seems to be very real in this unreal place.”

  “It is real,” said the Elf woman. “I am sorry that there is much you don’t understand, but there is much I don’t understand either. I picked up some thoughts from those around me as I walked here with these three humans. They were thoughts that were foreign to me.”

  “I want to know why your people are shooting at our people,” growled Harris, glaring at the woman. “Without even trying to find out why we are here.”

  “They are not my people,” said the Elf, her own features turning cold with fury. She shouted something in a language no one else in the tent understood. “They are not my people,” she hissed again.

  “We’re kind of new here, you know,” said General Taylor, looking over steepled fingers at the woman. “We really don’t have all of the nuances down yet. Maybe you could tell us a little bit about your people, and their people, and everyone else’s people.”

  “I will try,” she said after a moment’s silence, looking at the faces around the room, her features calming. “Then I will have some questions for you, if you don’t mind. I need to know some things that will tell me if you are the ones we are expecting.”

  “Fair enough,” said Taylor, nodding. “As long as you don’t go ripping information from our minds, we’ll give you what we can without endangering ourselves.”

  “It is not polite to rip it from your minds,” said the woman, looking over at Private Maritoni. “Some, such as that one, will develop into powerful psionicists, and it would not do to cause him anger or hatred toward me. I will not take anything from any of you that you do not desire to give. It is against the teachings of the Goddess to do so.”

  “And about these peoples?” said Colonel Harris, his tone less than patient.

  “You are the gatherer of important information for your people,” she said, looking at the Colonel and giving him a disarming smile. “I understand that you want to know everything. Everything will take time, but I will start where I can start.

  “My name is Makillia Yoneshine,” said the woman in her soft voice, looking from face to face. “I am a Priestess of Arathonia, the Goddess of life, though I also hold services for other deities of her pantheon on their holy days. My people are of the Conyastaya, the people of the woods. Those others you mistake me for are of the Ellala, the people of the cities.”

  “So you are not the same race as they are?” asked Taylor, nodding his head. “Just similar races.”

  “What do you mean, similar?” asked the Conyastaya woman, her brow furrowed.

  “You are both smaller in stature than humans, with pointy ears and bright eyes,” said the General. “To us you look much alike.”

  “We are not like them,” said the Elf, shaking her head and looking like she wanted to spit on the floor. “We do not worship death and chaos. We do not worship evil.”

  “So all of these Ellala are evil?” asked Harris, glancing over at the General. “And all of you Conyataya are as right as rain?”

  “Not all of the Ellala are evil,” said the Elf with a grimace. “Not even all of the Ellala of the Empire of Ellala’lysana are evil, though their leaders are to a being. And most of the Lianardisina are good, to a point, though they are often mistaken. But most of my people attempt to be right with nature, and are opposed to death and chaos.”

  “And what of the other peoples of this world?” asked Harris, again looking over at the General. “Are they good or evil? Are we going to have to fight everyone we come across?”

  “Some are good, some are evil. Some are neither, like most people, but have features of both. I would hope that you wouldn’t have to fight everyone you come across, though I do hope you will fight the Ellala’lysana. And I hope you fight them well. But to answer your question, there are of course the three races of what you call E
lves. The Ellala are longer lived than us. They can live four thousand of our years or longer, while we only live twenty-five hundred or so. And there are the ebon skinned ones, the Dekefin, who dwell beneath the mountains, and are mostly worshipers of chaos, though not of death. And there are the short lived Grogatha, who live a half century and are a savage race. Your people saw the Gimikran, the short folk who are very strong, but you have not seen their stouter and stronger cousins of the mountains, the Dimikran, and their dark skinned kin, the Kidimikran. And there are the Kashana’liya, the small farming folk.”

  “We’ve had run ins with the Ellala and these Grogatha, I think,” said Harris, looking at a notebook he pulled from his shirt pocket. “And the little guys seem very friendly. I guess the others aren’t really a threat?”

  “Everyone on this world can be a threat,” said the Priestess, looking into the Colonel’s eyes. “Is it not so on your world?”

  “It can be,” said Taylor, nodding his head. “Have you ever run into anyone from our world before? And how in the hell did we get here to start with?”

  “You came through the portals,” said the Conyastaya woman, “from world to world. There have always been such. Some of ours have passed into your world through the generations. Not many, and not for long, but long enough to see some of your world, and to bring back information.”

  “That explains some of the legends,” said Private Maritoni, who flinched at the look he received from Colonel Harris and shut his mouth.

  “You go ahead and speak up Private,” said General Taylor, shooting a look at his G2, cursing Harris as a fool in his mind. “If you know something that might shed some light on this mess we find ourselves in, speak up.”

  “Yes sir,” said Maritoni, looking sheepishly at the Colonel, then back at the General. “It’s just all of the legends of Elves, Dwarves, dragons, magic. All of it is right here. And all the literary works. I’m wondering if there was some knowledge of this world that came to our world, and sparked all of that creativity.”

  “And some of your people have come across the barrier of the worlds as well,” said Makillia, her green eyes looking into those of Maritoni and bringing a blush to the Private’s cheeks. “A few at a time. A couple. A dozen. Several times there were a hundred, once several thousand. But they were never able to find the way back.”

  “Then how in the hell did all of us find our way here?” asked Harris in a growl. “I would have just as soon stayed where I was than come here.”

  “Even if it meant dying in nuclear fire,” said Taylor with a scowl, shaking his head. “I’m not really sure I would want to stay back there with what was going on.”

  “Nuclear fire?” asked the Elf Priestess, a confused look on her face. “What is that?”

  “Part of our technology was the ability to release huge amounts of energy with a single weapon,” said Mercer, speaking for the first time after a glance at the General. “Wiping out hundreds of square miles of area and incinerating hundreds of thousands of people within seconds. Wonderful stuff.”

  “You control those kind of forces?” asked the Conyastaya female with a gasp. “Without magic?”

  “I don’t know if we really control them,” said Taylor. “But we sure did use them. Probably thousands of them. I guess that opened up those gates a little larger than they had been. Would they have closed up again?”

  “I am sure they would have,” said the Elf, looking at the men with wide eyes. “But this makes me wonder. Are you really those whom we have sought for thousands of years? Or are you, something else?”

  “And what have you sought for thousands of years, my dear?” asked Taylor, his brow furrowing.

  “Our saviors,” said the woman, a wan smile on her face. “Those from another world who would come to ours to free us from the shadows of the dark Gods.”

  “I’m not sure if we are what you sought,” said Taylor, thinking about the implications of being part of a prophecy. “We really don’t put much stock in Gods. Most of us do well enough with the one.”

  “You worship the Overgod,” said the woman, her eyes widening. “That explains much. Why you don’t have magic. Other things.”

  “You actually have multiple Gods here?” asked Harris with a snort. “How primitive can you get?”

  “We worship multiple Gods because those Gods have real power,” said the woman with a glare at the man. “Some worship the Overgod, that which created all, including the lesser Gods. But the Overgod does not give power for everyday use as do the other Gods. So we worship that which is useful to us in the here and now. Would you not if the same were offered to you?”

  “Everyone works magic here?” asked Taylor, his brow furrowed in thought.

  “All work at least some magic,” said the woman. “Household spells. Minor Cantrips. Useful in their own right. The mighty few work mighty magics.”

  An officer stepped into the room and motioned for the General’s attention. Taylor waved him over while holding up a hand to stop the elfin woman from speaking for a moment.

  “Sergeant Gomber said to tell you the com gear is still acting up, sir,” said the nervous looking young Lieutenant. “He still can’t figure out the problem.”

  “Well God Damn him,” said Taylor, his face flushing. “God Damn him to Hell.”

  “You must not say that,” said the Elf, her face going pale, making a sign with her hands.

  “Say what?” asked Taylor, feeling confused.

  “Curses have meaning here,” said the woman, her tone of one talking to a child. “To damn someone to Hell is to ask the Gods to do that. I do not think you a man to curse one of your subordinates to Hell. You must watch your speech, lest it lead to something you would not wish.”

  Oh great, thought Taylor, rubbing his temples. Can’t curse people. Watch your thoughts or everyone around you will read them. Soul eating emperors that want to put my people on the menu. What the fuck else can go wrong. He rubbed a moment more and looked up at the woman.

  “Why are these Ellala attacking my people?” asked Taylor, getting to the heart of his problem on this world. “We come in peace if we are treated in peace.”

  “You are warriors,” said Makillia, her eyes wide. “You command terrible weapons and are in large numbers. What would you do if someone invaded your lands? It is the way of things to conquer or be conquered. Is this not the same in your world? Do not tell me other, for you just admitted to blasting each other with powerful weapons.”

  “My people prepare for war as well as any,” said Taylor, looking her straight in the eyes. “But we do not conquer. We have not taken land from anyone in over a hundred years, a time in which we fought a half dozen wars. We protect those weaker than ourselves, and beat those that are our enemies. But we don’t seek to subjugate other peoples.”

  “Is this true?” asked the Elf, her eyes widening. “This is the truth. You are a goodly people?”

  “We’re not perfect,” answered the General. “But we do better than most.”

  “What of these other people who came with you?” asked the Priestess. “They speak a different tongue, and dress slightly different than you.”

  “The Germans,” said Taylor with a smile. “One of the greatest warrior peoples on my planet. One we had to beat in two wars in the past. And now our allies. They can be warlike. But they can also be good friends.”

  “Perhaps you are the ones we have looked for,” said the Elf, nodding. “Perhaps you are the ones who will free us from those who would damn us.”

  “Well, we seem to have superior weapons,” said the General, “for what it’s worth. But we only have so many weapons, and so many reloads. And those evil bastards of yours have been able to hurt us.”

  “And remember, we’re having problems with some of the equipment, sir,” interrupted Harris. “Radios aren’t working as well as they should. Range finders, testing equipment. Some misfiring rounds in weapons.”

  “The Gods do not like the things you have br
ought from your world,” said the Priestess. “Arathonia has let me know this. Your weapons will not function for long. A few weeks. A month. And then they will cease to function.”

  “Damned,” said Mercer, shaking his head. “And then the damned natives will have it all over us.”

  “Then I guess we had better use them before we lose them,” said General Taylor, looking over the men in his tent. “Harris, I want the rest of the staff to assemble within the hour. With the help of this young, or maybe not so young, lady, I want to plan an offensive action that will cripple our enemy’s operations in this area for the next year.”

  “And after that sir?” asked the G2, his eyes showing that he was afraid. “These people will still be far ahead of us in the ways of fighting with what they have.”

  “I have some ideas on that,” said Taylor with a smile. “Roman Legions come to mind, for one. But first let’s get some breathing room and make the bastards bring troops over a distance to fight us. I want every enemy stronghold within six hundred kilometers of us raised to the ground. I want their soldiers and leaders to present only assholes and elbows to our sight. And we need to get together with the Germans. There have to be a hell of a lot of them here.”

  “And if they have a superior officer?” asked the G2.

  “Then I’ll have to give him my best advice and hand the campaign over to him.”

  “I think it is among these Germans that you will find your king,’ said the Elf with a nod.

  “We don’t really do well with kings,” said Harris.

  “Who is this king you’re talking about?” said Taylor.

  “Among your people, those of you who came through the gates, will be some of the truly long lived,” said the Priestess. “Immortals, who will lead you to victory.”

  Damn, thought the General as he looked at the expression on the woman’s face. Anyone who can impress people who live thousands of years with their lifespans must be something to call home about.

  “You must stop the Emperor of the Ellala,” said the woman, her eyes pleading. “He has taken the life from so many of my people. He will do the same to yours if he can. And then he will live forever to continue to perpetrate his evil on the peoples of the lands.”