Exile to the Stars (The Alarai Chronicles)

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Exile to the Stars (The Alarai Chronicles) Page 9

by Dale B. Mattheis


  “Greetings, two-legged brother.”

  His mind lurched and Jeff jerked upright like he had been kicked in the rump. Pain lanced through his brain like a red-hot poker.

  “God, that hurts!”

  Letting the saber fall to the ground, Jeff grabbed his head and groaned. His mind lurched again and was suddenly flooded with alien thoughts racing around inside of it. Opening and closing his mouth spasmodically, Jeff gasped for breath.

  “This can’t be telepathy,” he moaned between clenched teeth. “No way am I hearing their thoughts. Get your shit together before they decide they’re hungry.”

  Another packet of alien thoughts caromed into his mind, sending Jeff reeling backward. “They’re laughing at me!”

  He wanted to take action, but the pain in his head was so severe that Jeff collapsed onto a piece of wood. For a time, it hurt so bad that being eaten seemed the lesser of two evils. While struggling to master the pain, Jeff felt like the contents of his brain had become a flea market. Clusters of high-spirited thoughts gathered here and there to dig around the merchandise, all the while clucking with mock dismay at the shoddy quality.

  Stung by their amusement and tired of the show, Jeff fought off the pain. Getting an idea of how things worked by tracking the wolves around in his head, he kicked them out one by one. Dusting off mental hands with a sense of satisfaction, he tried to assemble a thought to project. Jeff caught himself as he was about to address the leader as asshole and reluctantly censored it out of the thought.

  “I am greatly surprised by your presence, as you are aware,” nodding toward the biggest wolf, “and do not understand this manner of speech.”

  Mirth barely suppressed, the wolf responded with the same diamond clarity as his opening sally.

  “We understand that you are new to this world and its ways; that you have never employed this manner of speech. Yet, it is your heritage to so speak.

  “We have followed your passage from the high country with great interest. In our turn, we are amazed at your strange manner of hunting with the little stick that makes great fire and thunder. Your bravery in retaining life while in the great snow has also not gone unnoticed.”

  The leader rose to his feet and walked around the fire to sit back down about three feet from where Jeff was seated. The wolf was so big that Jeff had to look up to meet his eyes. Although not directly illuminated by the fire, they caught enough light to glow a yellow-green. The combined effect was not comforting.

  “We have been asked by our brothers to keep watch for one such as yourself, and to be of aid as we might.”

  Jeff’s mind turned inside out once again. “I must admit confusion. I am expected?”

  The wolf replied with the mental equivalent of a shrug. “We know only that something has gone amiss, and that you could not be found. You have come to our hunting grounds, we have met. Two suns ago you would have died had we not guarded you from the great shaggy one that does not see well.”

  Thinking that one over, it became clear to Jeff why he had not encountered any serious carnivores other than the wolves near his campsites. Maybe the ‘great shaggy one’ was a bear of some stripe, he mused. Jeff let out a grunt of relief.

  “Of course! That must have been the wolves playing with my head a few days ago! Frikking comedians.”

  Jeff recalled himself to the present situation and found that a reply came naturally to mind. “I am grateful for your assistance, and pleased that you and your pack shared my kills.”

  “The eating was good,” the wolf acknowledged. “We will remain with you for a time to help as we may. Call us in need, in the manner you have now become aware of.”

  “How are you called?”

  “You have seen me, we have shared minds, you know who I am.”

  The group of wolves arose and trotted off. Their leader briefly turned to emphasize a last thought.

  “Be cautious, new brother. One day’s march will bring you to lands of two-legs that do not have mind speech and live in fear of that-which-they-do-not-know.”

  Jeff sat by the fire long into the night and tried to escape the feeling that he was in way over his head.

  Chapter Five

  Battle-ax Remorse

  “Shoot, not a single paw print.”

  Bending over to see better, Jeff circled the campsite again to make sure but came up empty handed. A heavy shower during the night had beaten the dirt flat and left pools of standing water.

  Maybe I imagined the whole thing, Jeff thought, groping around in a pocket of the backpack in search of his match container. Really wouldn’t surprise me if last night turns out to be no more than a pipe dream. What a bummer that would be.

  Although the fire was dead and the wood was wet, dry tinder was available. A kitchen match soon had a merry blaze going. Before capping the waterproof container, Jeff counted how many matches were left. There were eighteen.

  “Well,” Jeff decided, pouring boiling water over a tea bag, “Either it happened or it didn’t, and pipe dream or whatever, my head is not the same. It feels....” He laughed. “Okay, why not. It feels like new software has been installed. Question is, if it’s there how do I boot it?” Jeff fiddled around in his head to no effect. “Well, shoot. Hello! Anyone out there?”

  Jeff chuckled at himself and heated a piece of venison. Still, he knew that something in his head was different. While eating he searched for some concrete change that he could identify. It was the first time he had tried to think about thinking, and found it an eye-crossing experience. He was about to give up when a red and green cube materialized seemingly in thin air. The cube had the appearance of a holographic projection hanging a foot or so in front of his eyes.

  “Now that’s all right! Damn, its beautiful!”

  It had to be a program icon. He was sure of it. Suddenly the cube seemed to expand as it rushed straight at his eyes, pulling his perception around in a sharp U turn to follow. It was a hot chase, but Jeff lost the icon somewhere in his left hemisphere. He stopped to orient himself and realized with a start what he was doing.

  Talk about getting inside your head, Jeff thought, and closed virtual eyes until a wave of dizziness passed. This beats the hell out of most head-trips I’ve been on. Question is, where am I and how do I get out? Damn those wolves.

  Although the facility of vision had no meaning, Jeff was aware of every detail. He hiked along a pulsing arteriole and elaborately folded layers of gray matter that enclosed him in a confusing labyrinth.

  That little bastard has to be around here somewhere, Jeff thought grimly, and that’s my way out. Think it went deep. Guided by a nerve trunk, he angled right and descended.

  Creeping about the base of the cerebellum, he spotted a familiar glimmer and crouched behind a prominent brainstem nucleus. There it is! Come to papa. Jeff jumped out of hiding with mental arms spread wide to prevent escape and maneuvered the icon against a large bundle of neurons. It quivered and glowed like a cube of green and red Jell-O, giving the impression of neurotic uncertainty.

  Okay, I’ve got the little sucker trapped. Now what do I do? Jeff edged closer and made a flying leap at the icon but seemed to pass right through it. With no perceptible transition, he found himself back in the outside world.

  “Whoa! What a rush!”

  His mind blinked off then on, Jeff fell flat on his face in a puddle of water, and he was abruptly aware of the world from an entirely different perspective. His vision dimmed, but other senses he had never used expanded a hundredfold.

  “All right! I didn’t imagine it! Connected and running hot!” Jeff got up spitting mud and water. “Damn it feels weird. I wonder what that faint hissing is? Could it be something like a carrier wave?” Phrasing he would never have previously considered leaped to mind.

  “Good hunting be with you this day, brothers and sisters.”

  He let out a whoop of delight when a chorus of greetings bloomed in his mind, even though none of the pack could be seen. With each messa
ge, Jeff received a symbol that represented the individual wolf as if he were looking at him or her in the fur.

  “Greetings new brother—hunt well.” And again, “Walk silently this day, for danger approaches in the evening.” Standing out from them all was the leader’s symbol and message. “Strength to your arm.” The connection dissolved in an instant, the effect so shocking that Jeff nearly toppled off the log he was sitting on.

  While it didn’t take long to pack up, Jeff spent considerable time attaching the saber in such a way that he could draw the weapon by reaching over his head. The greetings he had received were sobering and offset some of the excitement he felt at being able to speak mind to mind.

  I wonder what the natives look like? he thought nervously. The wolves are so damn big! I hope to God that doesn’t hold true for whatever it is I am about to meet. He shouldered the backpack and hiked downslope through high grass that was heavy with raindrops.

  Late in the afternoon he encountered a peculiar triangle-shaped spine of rock and earth. It lay directly across his path but appeared to terminate a short distance ahead in a massive bluff. Jeff spent a hard two hours clambering up its flank through dense trees and broken scree in the hope that he might get an idea what the terrain held in store for him. As he climbed, the sky cleared and it warmed up. The trees began to thin out as he neared the top, and were gone by the time he cautiously shuffled out onto a stone parapet.

  “Whoa. That’s bright.”

  His sunglasses had become badly scratched, but Jeff put them on and inched toward the edge of the parapet.

  “Now that is worth seeing,” he murmured. Heavily forested mountains marched away to the limits of vision.

  Wishing fervently for binoculars, Jeff shaded his eyes and got the impression of progressive moderation in the terrain. Deep canyons furrowed the landscape between a series of rugged cordilleras, which debouched fan-like into large valleys off toward the horizon. Although forested with evergreens, the land was dotted with clumps of deciduous trees. Far to the west he caught the glint of a river and followed snatches of its line.

  “That has to be a good-sized stream,” he mused. “Might feed into a lake.”

  Releasing the backpack, Jeff sat cross-legged near the edge of the parapet. The scale of the wilderness, its beauty, called for contemplation. He had never imagined anything like it.

  The sun was halfway to the horizon, brilliantly illuminating snow-covered peaks. At lower elevations, mists clung to deeper valleys and softened the forest’s collage of greens. While a gentle breeze dried the sweat of his climb, Jeff watched what appeared to be a dozen or more large birds circle above the immense area he was viewing. He turned north to view land already crossed.

  “Holy shit.” For the first time, Jeff got an unobstructed view of the giant mountain.

  Even though he was over a hundred miles from where he had first awakened, the effect was not diminished. It did not seem possible that anything could be so massive. Mountains nearby the giant’s location seemed no more than hills although he had earlier estimated they must be twelve to fifteen thousand feet high in their own right. Jeff stared at the mountain for some time but simply could not comprehend its size. Prodded by the fading day to move on, he took a number of bearings with his compass.

  By late afternoon Jeff had passed well beyond the bluff he had named Spine Ridge and angled off toward the river noted earlier. Prepared to hide or run at the first sign of danger, he encountered nothing new. He did chance across a large buck taking his ease near a brook.

  The buck clambered to his feet when he spied Jeff and stared at him with lowered head. Showing long canines in a carnivorous smile, he advanced with the stealthy motions of a stalk.

  “Well, you insolent son of a bitch.”

  There was no doubt in Jeff’s mind that the animal was considering him with dinner in mind. He released the strap over the Colt and walked toward the buck.

  “Not today, dipshit. Move on or take the consequences.”

  The buck stopped and raised his head but gave no evidence of being frightened. Jeff was no more than fifteen yards away when the buck spun around and trotted into the woods like a horse.

  Easing the Colt’s hammer down, Jeff called after him, “Pass the word!”

  Not long afterwards, and still grumbling about the deer, Jeff ventured into a large meadow cut by a small river. He had taken only a few steps when shouts rang out. Almost at once, the shouts were followed by the unmistakable sound of steel on steel.

  Dodging back into the forest, Jeff skirted the meadow. “This is it! That sounded like someone shouting a challenge! What are they going to look like?”

  The sound level rapidly increased. “Got to be some sort of fight,” he muttered. Pushing through underbrush, visions of weird alien forms flitted through his mind. “Hustle it up, man.” He moved as close to the noise as he dared and carefully parted foliage so he could see.

  “Oh, no way. They look like humans,” Jeff breathed.

  No more than fifty feet away, a number of men were involved in a battle that seethed around the head of the meadow. At the meadow apex, the river flowed over a broad ledge adding a muted roar to the banging of shields, hoarse shouts and snatches of song.

  “This isn’t possible!”

  Jeff could hardly believe his eyes. He felt like he had been transported again, this time to first century Germany: blond-haired giants dressed in animal furs, leather boots extending cross-gartered to above the calf, most wearing a form of kilt. Battle-axes, crude swords and cudgels made up the bulk of the weapons Jeff could make out. It was the aliens’ size that had him shaking his head.

  “They’re really tall, maybe around seven feet, but they’re incredibly massive to boot. I’ll bet they weigh over four hundred pounds!” Jeff started to sort out what was going on. “Looks like seven against four,” he whispered. “This can’t last long.”

  Moving nervously behind a screen of bushes, Jeff groaned from time to time as the smaller group lost ground. He caught himself taking sides.

  “Oh no you don’t. You know nothing about these people. This isn’t your fight, dumbhead.”

  The seven pressed the attack until their opponents were forced to the brink of the waterfall. Suddenly, one of the four leaped forward with a wild swing of his war hammer and broke through the semicircle of attackers. The remaining three followed at once. The semicircle reformed and pushed them toward the woods.

  “Oh, shit!”

  The four men had suddenly turned and were running directly at Jeff’s hiding place. He jumped back to do a quick fade, but they stopped at the edge of the woods and fought on. Although he had drawn back, Jeff was close enough to smell their sweat and blood, to be nearly overcome by the din of ringing weapons and snatches of song roared out between gasps to find air. They have no intention of running, he suddenly realized. They’re going to fight to the death.

  The effect was so strong that Jeff felt himself a part of it, felt every blow and parry. He decided to leave on several occasions but couldn’t move. Shortly there was no more singing, only the cries of agony as the men nearest him fought to lift their weapons one more time. A tremendous overhand blow from a battle-ax crashed down on the shield of one of the defenders, sending him backward into the woods. Tripping over a limb, he fell through brush to land on his back at Jeff’s feet.

  The warrior who had landed the blow leapt into the woods with upraised ax and exultant shout, only to come face to face with Jeff standing paralyzed by the moment. The warrior froze when he saw Jeff. Blank astonishment quickly gave way to what might have been an expression of fear. They stood that way for one mortal moment, allowing the fallen warrior to roll away.

  Jeff was utterly stunned by the size of the man, if that’s what he was. The giant axe blade rotated and Jeff knew in an instant that he was the new target. Ripping the saber free, he dumped the backpack in one reflexive move. Shoulder muscles bulging, the warrior let loose a howl fit to defy gods and the ax
flashed down.

  Dodging aside, Jeff felt a breeze as the ax whistled by to thud deep into the ground. Hoping to escape, he backpedaled into the woods. Instead of returning to the meadow the warrior followed with giant strides. Jeff had to force his way through undergrowth as he retreated, but the warrior moved as easily as a tank.

  “Stop! Goddamit, I’m not your enemy!”

  The warrior heaved on the axe and Jeff again dived to the side. The ax head became entangled in vines.

  “We must talk! You must stop!”

  His words only seemed to infuriate the warrior, and he swung the axe in a vicious arc. Jeff fetched up against a tree trunk and barely had time to twist aside before the ax sank into the tree.

  “Oh, damn it!”

  Jeff finally accepted that words that could not be understood would not serve. Lunging one step, he thrust over the top of the shield strapped to the warrior’s arm and skewered him through the neck. Blood jetted in a thick stream, but the warrior lifted his ax for another blow. At the top of his swing, the saber fell on his neck and cut halfway through. The ax tumbled from his hands and the warrior toppled to the ground like a felled tree.

  Breathing heavily, Jeff was overcome by what he had done and by the stench of blood and bowels evacuated in death. Sprawled in a patch of yellow and orange flowers, the warrior’s eyes were blue as a morning sky and filled with profound sadness. Jeff shuddered with self-loathing

  “Did you have to kill him?”

  Yanking out the Colt, he ran into the meadow, pointed it in the air and fired. Combatants dropped to the ground as if they had been poleaxed. Some dived behind boulders, others tried to disappear in the thick grass. Stepping over several warriors, Jeff picked up a broken sword and strode between the opposing factions.

  “That makes three you’ve killed. Why not just blow them all away and do it right?”

  Savagely jamming the broken blade into the ground, he traced a deep furrow. Nine pairs of eyes followed every move. Pulling the Colt, Jeff waved it at one group then the other. Warriors dove in all directions to get out of the way. He pointed at several men who had serious wounds, and gestured that their fellows were to assist them. Convinced they were not to die immediately, the warriors looked to their comrades all the while casting anxious glances in Jeff’s direction.

 

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