The Turner Chronicles Box Set Edition

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The Turner Chronicles Box Set Edition Page 131

by Mark Eller


  "So," Edna said, "it turns out what you thought was interesting wasn't, but the stuff you didn't know about is."

  Aaron gestured vaguely. "Aren't you and Laura going in there with them?"

  "It's a very small cave," she said with a slight toss of her head. "It's deep, but the walls are close together, and the ceiling is low. The only place it really flares out is near the fire pit, and the Gods know there's barely room for two people to work there, let alone four."

  She regarded him with steady eyes, her head cocked to one side. "Do you want to hear something interesting?"

  "Not really."

  "You can hear it anyway. It seems some of the terminology for the sciences is the same in both our worlds. I saw a reference to anthropology in one of those books. We use the same word here. I suppose it only makes sense that a number of things crossover. After all, we speak the same language."

  Aaron listened with half an ear. Part of his attention focused on watching Laura Bainridge. Barefoot and bare limbed in her short sleeved shirt and shorts, she climbed through the thick growth covering the hillside above the cave. Apparently, she did not care about prickles and thorns clinging to her clothing and digging into her skin.

  "She'll be covered with scratches and punctures," he said. "What does she think she's doing?"

  "Looking for the vent," Edna explained. "Chances are poor she'll find it, but Leona thinks it's there. Laura volunteered to look for it today since it's presently the most useful thing she can do."

  Edna's attitude seemed a strange mixture of pride and disdain as she looked upon her aristocratic counterpart. "The woman will to do any dirty job that comes along, but she doesn't always show the best judgment while doing it. Laura got hurt bad enough a couple months ago to leave a four inch scar on her back."

  Watching, Aaron thought back on the night before, remembering Laura's choice of bed partner and the blatant way she made sure everyone awake knew what she did.

  "I think she might be somewhat self-destructive."

  "Let her see to herself," Delmac said abruptly. "Finish your chores so we can leave. You have a war to prepare for."

  * * *

  The tunnel wasn't exactly what Aaron expected. The air was dry as were the walls and the floor. Though still and perhaps the tiniest bit stale, the air was bearable, and there was plenty of room to maneuver. The passageway could not be called accommodating, but it was not cramped either. The low ceiling forced Grebfax to bow his head several inches, but it was tall enough for Aaron to not worry about bumping into one of the wooden supports. All in all, Aaron had to admit these were some of the most comfortable tunnels he'd ever been in. Of course, once he gave the matter some thought, he also had to admit he'd never spent much time in tunnels. When coming down here, he halfway expected damp walls and water dripping ceilings. Their absence was something of a disappointment.

  "I have to admit I'm still not entirely sure of the practicality of this, but I built it anyway," Grebfax said. His hand rested on a tile pipe more than three feet in diameter. Dirt smeared the pipe's surface, but the join appeared solid. Looking down the tunnel, Aaron saw sewage and water lines as far as the torchlight allowed him to see.

  Aaron smiled. Even though he was not an expert at social reform, he saw no reason why he shouldn't give these people the advantages of running water and indoor toilets.

  "I don't know how you're going to get the stuff to move," Grebfax said.

  "I'll use the stream," Aaron explained. "Pumps, driven by several waterwheels, will do the job. Also, there's a constant breeze around here so I'll build a few windmills further down the pathway."

  "But what will we do with the sewage?"

  "We," Aaron said, "will build a processing plant that will turn the sewage into fertilizer we can sell."

  Grebfax shook his head doubtfully. "Well, every building has this tunnel coming up under it, and the digging is almost complete under the university and all its housing."

  After taking one more look at the pipe, Aaron shifted his attention to the wood beams.

  "Do you have enough support to keep the walls from caving in and the roof from falling?"

  "We've more in place than they use in mines, or so the forewoman tells me. She says what we have here is twice as good as it needs to be."

  Aaron studied the ceiling doubtfully. A lot of wooden beams ran across it. At a guess, he figured they were placed six or seven feet apart. Still, he would visit these tunnels more than once, and the Gods knew the pipes would need repair someday.

  "Put extra braces between all of these when you get a chance."

  "There's no need."

  "It'll make me feel better," Aaron explained. "Humor me."

  "You're the boss."

  Nodding, Aaron led the way through the rest of the tunnels. He was pleased to note the work seemed uniformly good throughout the entire passage. Every so often, pipes and ladders ran up shafts placed so the plumbing could eventually be connected to the houses above.

  "Ya ask me," Grebfax said at one point, "these will be some damn--uh--dad-blamed strange houses to live in"

  Aaron gave him a warning look, but the man did not say anything else so he let it lay.

  * * *

  "Are you sure there's nothing more I need to bring?" Aaron asked Grebfax before taking his leave of the man later in the day. "Speak up now because I'm leaving soon."

  Taking a bite of mashed potatoes and gravy, Grebfax chewed thoughtfully for a moment. Shrugging one shoulder, he swallowed.

  "Not that I can think of. Your Minister of Trade, the Linley fellow, some of his wagons are due in this next week or two. Everything we need should be on them."

  "My Minister of Trade," Aaron noted, "is conspicuous because of his long absences. I doubt he's spent more than six months in Chin since I appointed him. It sometimes seems half my time is spent chasing him down." He frowned, thinking about his father-in-law. He did not often see Roger Linley, but Aaron was on better terms with the man than with Melna. Somehow Linley had formed a genuine liking for Aaron, causing them to become partners and close friends. Melna was his wife. She helped him run his empire. She was his lover and the first person Aaron turned to when trying to work out a tricky problem. Even so, he knew she did not care for him beyond mild friendship. No physical or emotional chemistry existed between them, not even when they tried lying to themselves.

  "I wasn't aware Chin had much worth trading for," Grebfax said.

  "There are some things," Autumn broke in. "They have a shimmering kind of cloth. It's absolutely wonderful, but they don't have much because the stuff is almost impossibly hard to make. Mister Linley's trying to come up with some other things, and he's trying to convince people they want what he offers."

  Aaron nodded. "I can't complain about how the man does his job. The One God knows he's already accomplished more than I thought he would."

  "I'll make sure anything needed is put on the next order when the wagons come in," Autumn said. Her worker's cap canted cockily to one side, making Aaron smile. After the excavation crew let her help dig out a new foundation, they shared their lunch with her. The hat had been one woman's gesture of thanks. Autumn refused to take it off.

  Grebfax winked. "The girl has the right of it. She'll see to it those freighters take care of business. Yes, sir, you don't need to worry none about leaving her in my care. There's work needing doing, and she's more than ready to handle it."

  Autumn sat up straight in an attempt to appear more dignified. Looking at her, Aaron found himself admitting she was ready to take on more responsibility than he normally gave her. She was fourteen. In a few months she would be fifteen, even if she did look years younger. It wouldn't be right to hold her back just because a Talent Stone delayed her physical growth.

  Another thought he didn't want to pursue. It wasn't Autumn's fault she was old enough for the fortune hunters to start chasing her. Inside Isabella she would be a marriageable woman trapped in a young girl's body, and that was t
he problem. Aaron didn't want people thinking of her in the same way he thought of Missy, something else he still had trouble dealing with. He first met Missy when she was years younger than Autumn. He still had difficulties separating the woman she had become from the child she had been.

  "Give Autumn some administrative work if you want," he told Grebfax, "but make sure she sees some of the physical side, too. I want her to know what people are up against when they work with their hands."

  "I can see to it," Grebfax assured him.

  Pushing away from the table, Aaron stood up, leaving his barely touched plate. He felt too nervous, energetic, and troubled to eat. "I'm done."

  "Are you leaving now?" Autumn asked. She gestured down to her plate. More than half her food remained. "I'm not finished."

  "But I am." Aaron crossed around the table and leaned over to kiss the top of her head. "Hon, you listen to what the man says. I'll check in on you every few days."

  "'Kay." She returned her attention to her food.

  Aaron smiled and rolled his eyes while Grebfax released a low laugh.

  "Parents are always more sentimental about these things than the kids," Grebfax pointed out.

  "It's not like he isn't coming back," Autumn said through a full mouth. "Heck, I didn't carry on much when I left mom, and I knew I wouldn't see her again."

  "I'll catch you when you return," Grebfax said to Aaron.

  Autumn chuckled. "I bet you'll see him before that. He has his running look on him. He won't leave for a while."

  "You know me too well," Aaron told her.

  "No," she disagreed. "I just know things."

  Aaron gave her head another kiss, waved goodbye to Grebfax, and left the inadequately furnished house.

  On the short walk to his tent, he stretched out his legs and double timed it. Autumn had read him well. Using his muscles felt good. He broke into a jog, ran past his tent, out to the edge of the encampment, and then onto the track the runabout racers used.

  Aaron ran, and as he ran he remembered how only a few years earlier this effort would have been impossible for him. He'd been a drunkard, too wrapped in self-pity to care to for his body. His main goal had been the next drink, and his ambition was to drink until he forgot his failures.

  Those days were finished. His body was free from alcohol, though it still craved wine. Aaron was a middle-aged man housed in a young man's body. He'd learned to appreciate the combination and determined to maintain his youthful vigor for as long as possible. He might live another two or three centuries. He didn't want to spend those centuries in a wrecked body. Although his Talent Stone slowed his body's aging, it did not guarantee his condition.

  And so, when he had time, Aaron ran. Sometimes he lifted weights, and he frequently worked out on personal defense with Missy and Harvest Patten. Sometimes, he took a 'mental health' day and went fishing for a few hours. The end result, at forty-one Aaron was in better physical condition than at any other time in his life. It felt good. He wanted to things to stay that way.

  So he ran.

  Aaron ran along the trail, slowing when he climbed the small hills, slowing more on the steeper slopes. His arms pumped, and his legs didn't stumble. He enjoyed the sensation of his tiring body and pumping lungs. Aaron ran, because when he drove himself to his limits, he did not have the energy or desire to remember who he had been or what he was becoming. He rounded a turn to find the largest slope lay before him for the fifth time. His legs wobbled. His knees threatened to fold. He was done. Satisfied, Aaron slowed to a walk and veered toward his temporary tent. He had to pass through the center of his new city to do so.

  Grebfax's eyes twinkled when Aaron passed him. "The girl does know you."

  Aaron gave him a half-hearted wave. His lungs worked too hard and his body felt too exhausted to put extra effort into greeting the man. Besides, he didn't want to take the time needed to correct Grebfax's misconception. Autumn did not know him well, but her Talent occasionally gave her glimpses of the future. Sometimes, she understood what those glimpses meant. Mostly, she did not.

  Laura sat cross-legged outside his tent of the previous night. Her bare arms and legs displayed a collection of bruises and long scratches.

  "We've been waiting for you. Edna grew bored so she went inside an hour ago."

  Faint snores explained what Edna did in his tent.

  "Make this quick," he half-panted while pulling off his wet shirt. "I'm leaving in a few minutes."

  She looked at him strangely. "You stink."

  "I've been running."

  "I know." Her eyes took on a certain interest. "Your back? I've never seen anyone with so many scars."

  Remembering the appearance of the man she gave herself to the night before, Aaron suffered a sudden nervousness. This woman seemed drawn to the grotesque.

  "Sometimes a person gets hurt." He wouldn't put the same shirt back on to cover his scars. That would be too obvious. He would, however, get a fresh one out of his bag instead of waiting until after he washed off.

  Damn, and damn again. This switching back and forth between cultures could get a man screwed up. Aaron had grown accustomed to bare skin while living among the Chins. With them, public nudity wasn't worth commenting on. In Jutland, the sight of a bare chest, be it male or female, was considered sexually stimulating.

  "Yes," she agreed thoughtfully. "Sometimes people get hurt. How did your injuries happen?"

  Aaron shook his head, refusing to answer. Laura's eyes appeared speculative.

  "I'm not interested," Aaron told her.

  She started and then a disbelieving laugh jerked free. "You thought that I--that I wanted you?" She chuckled. "Mister Turner, Aaron, I'm glad you're not interested because you are not my type at all. I'll admit your body is presentable, but you're too respectable."

  She rose. "I'll go wake Edna and Delmac while you clean up. Don't want you to worry about me admiring you." Still chuckling, she entered the tent.

  Nonplused, Aaron watched the closed tent flap for several moments before shaking himself back to attention when a lantern came to life inside.

  Why was Edna sleeping in his tent when she had a perfectly good one of her own? He understood Delmac's presence. The man waited for Aaron to return so they could go to the Chins together, but why the women?

  The evening air felt uncomfortably chill on his damp body. Shrugging away his question, he pushed past the flap.

  Delmac, he saw by the lantern's light, lay on the ground, rolled up in a blanket, while Edna had taken over the bed. Aaron's bag, neatly packed, sat beside Delmac's…and also beside a number of other bags. Frowning, Aaron turned his attention to the two women.

  Laura nodded. "You got it. We're going with you."

  "No," he told them. Bringing two sophisticated women who were used to the best into a Chin encampment seemed ludicrous.

  Sitting up, Edna pushed her blanket aside and stood erect. Aaron noted she hadn't bothered removing her shoes before lying down.

  "The cave is too small for all of us," she said. "Aidan, Sybil, and Leona are the real historiographers. We're only dabblers. Since we'll be useless here, I decided we might as well indulge in our main specialty."

  "And that would be?" Aaron asked suspiciously.

  "Anthropology," Laura answered, "and sociology. My parents thought knowledge about a couple esoteric subjects would make good cocktail conversation so they made me study them for five years." Her lips curved into a thin smile. "They weren't happy when I decided grubbing around in the dirt would make a good hobby."

  "They'll like it even less when they learn you're living with a bunch of blood-thirsty savages," Edna pointed out.

  Laura's smile became larger. "I know. Can you imagine their reactions when they hear I'm pregnant with a savage's child."

  "I think," Delmac put in, "since I am one of those bloodthirsty savages, I should be insulted."

  "Laura, dear," Edna added, "you forgot to mention your interest in psychology."

&n
bsp; Delmac's eyes narrowed. "I am not as uneducated as you might think. There is no discipline called psychology."

  Laura's laugh sounded light and amused. "Not officially. A woman in Isabella has been inventing it these last few years. I read a couple books she wrote, liked what I read, and have been using her principles to try understanding my parents' motivations."

  "Felicity Stromburg?" Aaron asked.

  "Why, yes," Laura answered. "So you've read her?"

  "I know her."

  "Ohhhh." Her tones were speculative.

  "Look," Aaron continued. "I hate to disappoint you people, but you're not coming along. Things are too unsettled right now, and I don't have time to keep an eye on you."

  "Aaron," Edna said quietly.

  "You don't know the language," Aaron insisted.

  Edna's smile became slow and lazy and knowing. "Come now. Do you think we would come unprepared?"

  Chapter 9

  When Aaron transferred into the Chin encampment, he stepped into chaos.

  Araaaw

  "Tighten up on those ropes. Yarla, what do you think you're doing. Those belonged to your grandmother so you better be careful."

  "Kor," a man's voice demanded. "You wanted her to be part of the Ferbog so you better get her ass on the travois come the morning."

  Araaw Araaw

  "Hold still you blasted animal."

  "I get the impression your people are moving soon," Edna Balandice noted. Aaron glanced at her and then looked away, still not sure how the women talked him into bringing them along.

  Edna was right. The encampment showed every sign of moving. Every auxiliary tent already lay on the ground, and a good many were almost ready to be loaded onto cattle. Children scampered around. Some got in the way. Others stayed well away from the work, knowing some of it would fall on them if they were noticed.

  "It's too light," Delmac said suspiciously.

  "We are deep into the Chin territories," Laura said, studying the sun's last rays. "I would guess we moved several hundred miles west, maybe as much as a thousand. Since the earth is round, the time must be an hour or two different from where we were."

 

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