Chapter 3
The Awakening
The Decan had been at war with the Pan for centuries, some even thought for millenia, but with the Decan’s disastrous invasion of Earth, that war had finally come to an end. Invasions were incredibly expensive, and the Decan home system had been scoured clean of resources to make the giant warp gate on the moon and the assault ships which had been launched through that gate into Earth orbit.
Fortunately (for mankind) the gate hadn’t lasted long, because the Hood, one of Earth’s three asteroid mining vessels, had been deliberately crashed into it, but there were to be no medals for gallantry, even posthumously, as society on Earth crumbled with the after effects of the aliens biological weapons.
Birth rates had fallen to an unsupportable level, and humans were slowly being bred out of existence. Now, 2,000 years after the invasion, it would take a miracle for the human race to survive.
Then a scout ship of the Pan arrived and their quarrelsome crew ignored rule number one in the confederation statute book, ‘thou shalt not interfere’.
Greta frowned, and with a forehead like hers, that was a big frown. She had mind-probed the creature she was watching, and even though it was obviously a juvenile, if that was the best the dominant species could do, it was a miracle they were still here. ‘Here’ was a blue/white planet, third from it’s star, and Greta, with her two companions, had stumbled on it by accident.
Greta was a navigator, but only third class, and wasn’t qualified to be this far from Craghome, and her pilot and engineer took great pleasure in reminding her of it, but their home world government had been as near to panic as anyone could remember, and all available scouts had been called into action. Their traditional enemy had made a surprise attack on the colony of Greystone Four, killing everyone, destroying everything and stealing the library’s core memory, but lately, the blood sucking snake heads had ceased their constant nuisance raids and virtually disappeared from the interstellar scene. Chameleon ships had been launched from Craghome in every direction to find out what had happened to their old enemy, and to recover the priceless library.
Angie Armstrong, Frances Thunderhead and Gretagast Horningtower had hit the jackpot in their ship Springer Three.
Despite their success, Greta wasn’t happy. Both the pilot and engineer were constantly nagging at her about her lack of certificates and her indecisive nature, and the journey she had dreamed about for years was turning into a nightmare.
Even her family home of Horningtower had made it plain that she wasn’t wanted. She had two older sisters, so she would not be able to stay there much longer, unless it was to wait on her sisters, and be at their constant beck and call. Better that she should make her own way in an overcrowded world that she was not prepared for.
She winced as the youngster, a female of the Manx form, threw another stone at the animals she was trying to move towards the nearby village. She felt some sympathy for the animals, after all, they looked vaguely like her, and had been seeded here 4,000 years ago by the Proudfoot family. Their current guardian should have been Billy Proudfoot, but records showed that he hadn’t set foot on this planet, ever!
Wreckage from Stream ships was everywhere in this system, including at least one that was identified as being from the slaughter at Greystone Four. The remains of the prison ship Lady Of Pain was here, so the library could be here as well. Unfortunately, some of their instruments insisted that at least one of the enemy was still alive on the planets surface as well, so they had agonised for hours before landing near this village, a safe distance away from their enemy’s location. After all, no one in their right minds wanted to meet one face to face, did they?
After making a quick reconnaissance of the village, Angie and Frances left Greta watching the furless, clawless, hornless Manx creatures of the village and had headed North again towards their chameleon craft.
A sound like thunder echoed off the mountains surrounding the valley and Greta whirled round in shock and amazement. “They’ve left me, they’ve left me” was all she could think, and she pulled her chameleon field cape tighter round her trembling body. Then common sense prevailed and she decided that they had probably gone to check the location of their old enemy. Probably. Maybe?
Down in Homestead, Connie Nesbitt looked up from her omelette. “Didn’t expect thunder today,” she murmured to herself. Then louder, “was that thunder Frankie? I didn’t see a storm coming today.”
Frankie Vine the innkeeper looked up towards the dark mountains. “Don’t think so Ma, hope not anyway, our Tanya’s gone to chase up those stray goats in the North meadow.”
Ma Nesbitt grimaced, “shouldn’t have to be chasing stock for those damned tax collectors. Biggest load of crooks I ever saw.”
“Got to agree with you there,” replied Frankie. “Can’t do nothing about it though. Central would have us for breakfast if we missed a payment.”
“One of these days,” muttered Homestead’s guru into her omelette.
“Shift your useless bodies, get a move on.” Tanya Vine was only ten years old and her piping voice barely carried across the meadow. She waved her thorny stick at the 24 goats in front of her but the animals out of reach steadfastly ignored her, and kept on ripping up the lush grass, while the ones in danger of a prickly surprise skipped nimbly out of her way.
“Alright, it’s not funny any more. You’re gonna get a stone up your arse if you don’t behave.” The goats all came to a sudden halt.
Tanya looked at the suspiciously obedient goats in surprise. “Well, that’s better,” she said to herself, “but why?”
All the goats were trembling and looking the same way, into the wind, then Tanya smelt it as well. “Flaming seesaws. What’s that?”
She held her thorny stick high and advanced to the front of the goats, her eyes quickly darting left and right. She caught sight of a strange shimmering in the air.
“I see you now granny Jenkins. You’re dead, you are, and ghosties aren’t allowed round here. These are my goats now, not yours, so get yourself gone.” She reached down into her pocket of her threadbare trousers and grasped one of the stones that had been destined for a goats rear. The apparition showed no sign of departing so Tanya sent the stone on it’s way.
“Ouch. There’s no need for violence.”
“Granny Jenkins?” She lowered the stick slowly.
“No, Gretagast Horningtower, and they’re not your goats, they’re Billy’s”
Tanya looked baffled. “Some of them are Nannies as well,” she said helpfully. “Are you a spirit, Gretter ghost?”
“Gretagast. Gretagast Horningtower, and all these animals belong to Craghome.” Greta let the cape fall to one side, and Tanya quickly jumped back a couple of paces, and was on the verge of fleeing for her life.
“Wow,” she said eventually. “You’re the biggest goat I’ve ever seen. No wonder you smell so… err… strong.” She narrowed her eyes in
sudden suspicion. “Hey, goats can’t talk. I’m still asleep aren’t I.” She let out a nervous giggle. “This is just a dream.”
Greta looked intently at Tanya. “No dream girl. Tanya. I’m real enough, and here to check that our friends are being looked after properly.”
Tanya looked uncomfortable. “Aaah, yes. What do you mean by properly?”
“I’ve looked into your head Tanya Fine, and I am not completely satisfied with what I see there.”
“Which bit aren’t you happy with?”
“To be frank, all of it. But one bit especially. Let me show you.”
Tanya and Greta locked eyes, and Tanya was drawn into the world of the blood sucking monstrosities. Greta finally let go and Tanya fell back onto the grass, shaking with the horror of what she had seen.
She wiped her eyes on her shirt sleeve, and when she had recovered, asked, “so all the goats we send to the temple at Central suffer like that?”
Greta nodded slowly, wondering if she had gone too far. “Yes, the monster turns their insides to mush and sucks them dry.”
“Then it’s not a nameless god at all like they say, just a creature from another world.”
“That’s right Tanya Vine.” She got the name right that time, and decided that actually, she hadn’t gone far enough. “Look into my eyes again, and I’ll give you a gift. No it won’t hurt, I promise.”
Tanya finally looked up into the enormous slit pupils again, and Greta showed her how to communicate with the goats.
“Now Tanya Vine, I am making you the goats official guardian, and it’s your job to look after them for me and my sisters.”
“You’re kidding me,” stated Tanya in surprise.
Greta’s eyes grew even larger. “What? Such language from one so young!” she said vehemently. “How dare you use such words so easily? Don’t say that again. It’s very rude.”
Tanya was baffled and surprised by the outburst. “But I only said...” she began.
“Say no more on the subject.” said Greta. “You’ve said enough.”
Tanya frowned, and then shrugged her shoulders. “Right, but what about Mad Martha’s tax collectors? They’re coming for these today, and I’m only ten. I can’t stop them by myself.”
“Well, let’s see if we can arrange a little surprise, shall we.” Greta drew the cape round herself again and as she stood, the goats formed up in rows, and they all proceeded in an orderly fashion towards Homestead, where Martha and her sergeant, Filian Strake, were supervising the last minute collection of tribute from the unhappy villagers.
No more sacrifices
Billie Forster held the huge hammer menacingly. “Now girlie, if you think you can carry those outside,” she nodded towards the pile of tools, “with broken arms, of course,” she smiled, and it wasn’t a pleasant sight. “Then feel free to pick them up.” She snarled her challenge at the frightened trooper, who took the safe option and fled from the forge.
“Not exactly in Beryl’s league are they Billie?” Said Georgie, sister to Beryl Strong, who was one of Martha’s patrol.
The blacksmith smiled at her lover. “Nowhere near. Good job she refuses to come here with these thieving sods. Still remembers us kindly, I guess.”
“Likes us too much according to Martha.” Georgie shook her head sadly. “Every year they take more,” she said with a sigh. “One of these days, we’ve got to do something about it.”
“One of these days,” repeated Billie, and reached out to grip Georgie’s hand.
“FLOSSIE CRAKEN.” Sergeant Strake’s voice bellowed across the village green, and Flossie, the hapless girl who had run from the forge, appeared nervously from behind the ox cart.
“Yes sergeant?”
“Do I have to chase you every minute of the day?” Growled the obese sergeant.
“No sergeant,” whispered Flossie.
“Don’t answer back scum. Get the ropes out. Those damn goats will be here any minute now. WELL, MOVE THEN.”
Flossie scrambled up onto the cart and threw the short ropes down to the waiting troopers. “They’re here,” said Flossie, as the sound of bleating could be heard from beyond the West gate of the palisade. From the cart, she could see beyond the fence. “They’re not coming in, sergeant,” she said slowly.
“What can you see scum?”
Flossie shaded her eyes against the sun’s glare. “They’re just standing there, with that innkeeper’s girl. That’s funny, they’ve gone all quiet, like.”
Martha Torrent came out of The Vine. “What’s happening,” she growled.
Filian turned towards her leader. “Goats outside the fence. Won’t come inside.”
“Well go and get them then.”
“Right you lot. Get out there,” the flustered sergeant shouted at her rag-tag collection of troopers gathered from the Western villages.
Outside the gates, they were stopped in their tracks by the sight of little Tanya standing there with her hand raised to halt them. The troopers were a long way from home, and these Eastern hamlets had a reputation for witchcraft and suchlike. They looked on worriedly as the goats stood silently in three ranks. Watching. Waiting.
Greta, still in the chameleon cape, nudged Tanya in the back. “Now,” she whispered.
Tanya coughed nervously, and raised her arms high. “NO MORE.” She screamed at the top of her ten year old voice.
Martha’s eyes bulged and threatened to pop out of her head. “What did you say?”
“Tell her again,” came the quiet voice from behind and above Tanya, and an invisible hand rested reassuringly on her shoulder.
The trembling girl took a deep breath. “NO MORE GOATS AND SHEEP WILL GO TO CENTRAL.” She shouted.
Behind her, the goats started milling about in terrified confusion, but when they finally stood still again, Martha’s roving patrol’s worst fears were realised. The goats bodies spelled out two words on the grassy slope.
On the Vine’s flat roof, a small group watched the noisy performance beyond the fence. Ma Nesbitt put out her hand to stop Frankie rushing to her daughter’s rescue. “Not yet Frankie,” she commanded. “There’s more to come. Your Tanya’s up to something, and it’ll be to our benefit to let her get on with it.” Although in truth, she hadn’t seen it coming, she was determined to let the strange scene run it’s unnatural course. “Sylvie. Go get some strong lasses with spears, just in case. Try and find the Brand girls, they’re more than a handful in a fight.”
None of the troopers stepped forward at Martha’s command to kill the brat. They could smell danger in the air. Or was it just Greta’s lack of deodorant?
Tanya took advantage of their reluctance. “HOMESTEAD CREATURES ARE SACRED. THEY WILL NOT GO TO THE BLOOD SUCKING MONSTER IN YOUR TEMPLE.”
Martha wondered briefly how the little brat had found out about the priestesses new pet, then motioned furiously to Filian Strake. “Do it,” she said menacingly, and the fat sergeant stepped forward, drawing her dagger.
“GHOSTLY
GRETA, QUEEN GOD OF ALL WOOLLIES, SAYS GO HOME.”
The goats moved again, and the troopers shuffled back a little further.
Tanya had to dodge rapidly out of the sergeant’s way, but Filian only got the one chance to harm her. An invisible fist, powered by muscles never seen on Earth before, crashed into the sergeants face, knocking her out and crushing her nose.
Greta drew herself up to her full height and flicked the cape to one side. She was briefly visible, and as she let out a tremendous roar the screaming troopers ran for their lives. Except Filian Strake of course, and two others who had fainted at the awesome sight of the ‘goat god’. Martha ran too, chased joyfully by Topper, one of the young billy goats.
Tanya’s joy at seeing the rout was short lived as an all too familiar voice addressed her.
“Tanya Vine. I want a word with you.”
Tanya winced, then forced a smile onto her face as she turned. “Hello, Ma Nesbitt. Something wrong?”
None of the Homesteaders had seen Greta’s brief appearance and the village’s all seeing, all knowing but now baffled guru cocked her head to one side.
“Nothing wrong girl. Just want to know what got into your head to make you do such a thing. Could have got yourself killed there, and girls are precious. All girls, even foolish ones like you.” She looked at the strange scene and frowned. “And how did you manage to put somebody that size on the floor?”
Tanya sighed. It looked like she would be feeling Ma’s slipper on her backside again.
She turned to the goats. “Go home,” she ordered, pointing roughly South. “Back to the farm. And be good.”
Connie’s jaw dropped, and she was left speechless as the goats gave one bleat, then turned in unison and trotted off Southwards. Just then, the patrol’s ox cart emerged from the gate, driven by Jade Bowyer, with a gaggle of villagers, including Sylvia, Frankie and the Brand sisters tagging along behind.
“Unfortunately, most of the stuff fell off the cart,” laughed Jade, and laughed louder when she saw the unfortunate sergeant’s face. “Oh dear, she’s not very pretty now.”
“Wasn’t pretty before,” answered Frankie, who bent down and threw her arms round her daughter, and hugged her close. “Oh Tan love. Thought we’d lost you then.”
Jade was kicking the two troopers who had fainted. “Wake up girlie. Wake up. WAKE UP.”
Eventually, the two frightened girls and their sergeant were on the cart and moving down the Ibis road, when Tanya suddenly found herself alone. Just for one surreal moment, it was difficult for her to believe that any of it had happened, when a voice above and behind her said, “so what do people like me actually find to eat on this planet?”
Two years later
Tanya had refused to explain anything about that strange afternoon, and she had told no one, not even Greta about the odd thoughts and visions that were appearing in her head at night. Greta had been abandoned by her uncaring crewmates, and had made her home in one of the derelict farms nearby, but hadn’t been around Homestead for more than a year now, which Tanya was grateful for. There was something a little unnerving about being in the presence of a talking goat more than two metres tall. Tan now spent less than half the week helping in her mum’s taverna, and the rest of the time she was on South Farm, mainly looking after the livestock, but doing whatever was necessary. It was a good life, mostly, working with her friend Sali.
“Tan?”
Tanya furrowed her brow in concentration.
“Tanya?” Sali said louder.
The link was gone, and the grateful goat scrambled to it’s feet and dashed off to the safety of the barn, where it tried to forget the weird things it had been seeing inside Tanya’s mind.
“What do you want Sali Vorden, it had better be good. We was getting on famously there.”
“We were born the same year Tan, but who’s actually oldest?”
Tanya sighed. More nonsense coming. “When were you born Sal?”
“Fifth half moon of the year.”
“Well you’re youngest then, cos mum said that I arrived in the second full moon.” Tanya looked suspiciously at her friends sad expression. “Why?”
“I started bleeding last night Tanya. It was my first time.”
Tanya smiled in sympathy at Sali. “So that’s why you’ve got such a long face. Stomach ache’s really bad? Happens to us all eventually sweetheart.”
“Yes, and nobody said it’d hurt like this. But I’m a woman now Tanya,” she spread her arms wide. “But what’s the point?”
Tanya shrugged her shoulders. “Don’t understand.”
"Well, I was talking to Gilda, and she says that the man must be dead. Nobody’s been sent for since..." she shrugged her shoulders. "...when we used to play in the mud and think it was fun, I guess."
“Yes?” said Tanya slowly, “and?”
“There’s no more babies, and I’m the youngest girl in the world. When everybody’s dead,” her eyes filled with tears, “I’ll be all alone. Don’t want to be alone.”
Her small body shook as she gave way to the tears. Tanya pulled her close and Sali clung to her till she stopped sobbing. Tanya kissed her forehead then held her at arms length, and staring into Sali’s eyes she put on her best grown up voice.
“Stuff and nonsense, nobody’s gonna be alone. Now just listen to me Sali Vorden, and no more tears. You hear me?”
Sali nodded.
“I’ve told nobody this, cos it’s a big secret and you got to promise not to tell.”
Sali gave a non committal grunt and Tanya shook her hard. “Promise me Sali Vorden or I’ll not tell you.”
“Right Tan, I promise,” Sali gasped.
“There’s big trouble coming our way, but we’ve got to be strong, cos after the tears, everything’s gonna be alright again.”
“What? How d’ya know that then?”
“I’ve seen a god, and she’s talked to me lots of times.”
Sali’s face showed her disbelief.
“A god? You’re weird Tanya Vine. Been at your mum’s cider again?”
“You’re asking for a good slapping,” retorted Tanya, “now, do you want to hear about my god or not?”
Sali sighed, Tanya was in one of her funny moods again and she might as well get it over with. “So, you’ve been seeing the Lady of the Night then.”
“No,” said Tanya scornfully. “A proper god. One you can touch.”
“Oh! Two years ago,” Sali butted in, “when Martha’s lot ran. Mum and Georgie were talking about you for weeks.”
Tanya smiled at the memory, “that was the first time,” she agreed. “Didn’t tell any grown ups about her though. Can’t trust grown ups. Seen her lots of times after that, and since she showed me inside her head, I can sometimes see things.”
Sali believed and was wide eyed and awe struck by now. “Wow. What do you see Tan?” she breathed.
Tanya smiled and closed her eyes. “No more Martha, but there’s menfolk and babies,
here in Homestead, and I see myself carrying Sylvia’s sword.” She paused, then gave a great sigh, opened her eyes wide and stared at an unseen horizon, then suddenly, her smile was gone.
“The woods won’t be safe any more, the dogs are running.” Tiny beads of sweat started trickling down her face with the effort. “I see a rainbow come down to earth, but there’s going to be a grey day. I see you, and long legs, I see you, no. We don’t have the time.” She collapsed on the grass, and Sali held her in her arms.
“Flaming seesaws Tanya Vine, if Ma Nesbitt knew you can see, she’d go mental.”
Cycle of Life, the rise and fall of Tanya Vine Page 3