Davor

by Leslie Chase

  Davor

  Worldwalker Barbarians

  Juno Wells

  Leslie Chase

  Contents

  1. Helen

  2. Davor

  3. Helen

  4. Davor

  5. Helen

  6. Davor

  7. Helen

  8. Davor

  9. Helen

  10. Davor

  11. Helen

  12. Davor

  13. Helen

  14. Davor

  15. Helen

  16. Davor

  17. Helen

  18. Davor

  19. Helen

  Epilogue

  About Leslie Chase

  About Juno Wells

  Also by Juno Wells and Leslie Chase

  Also by Leslie Chase

  Also by Juno Wells

  Cover Design by Kasmit Covers

  Editing by Sennah Tate

  Copyright 2017 Leslie Chase

  All rights reserved

  This is a work of fiction intended for mature audiences. All names, characters, businesses, places, events and incidents are products of the author’s imagination. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or actual events is purely coincidental.

  Created with Vellum

  1

  Helen

  Looking around the laboratory, Helen Maxwell thought she might be making a mistake. It wasn't a neat and tidy lab, all white surfaces and computers like you might see on TV. No, this room was a mess of cables and parts that looked like they'd been assembled in a hurry, several seeming to have been yanked out of some other machines.

  There was a tingling sensation to the whole room. A pressure that she could feel on her skin, which grew stronger if she stepped towards the center of the room. That was why she kept to the edge of it now, looking dubiously at Dr. Hughes.

  The scientist looked nervous, fidgeting with his glasses before stopping himself and trying a reassuring smile. It wasn't a very convincing expression. He looked far too much like a movie mad scientist, and if he hadn't been a close friend of her father's she wouldn't have trusted him alone like this.

  "Don't worry, Helen, everything is quite safe," he said. "I just need your help to run some tests on my apparatus, that's all, and I'll pay quite well for the privilege."

  "You look awfully nervous for someone who's so sure," Helen said. "I don't know about this. Why the urgency? And why do you need an artist?"

  If it's fair to call myself that. She hadn't ever been paid for her drawings, but she could draw. And Dr. Hughes knew that, so she wasn't lying, she just wasn't reminding him of it. Besides, she desperately needed the money from this job. There wasn't any work to be had around town, and after her last shitty boyfriend had split, he'd taken everything he could from her apartment. She supposed she should be grateful he hadn't been able to steal the bed, but she had nothing left apart from furniture. The call from Dr. Hughes had seemed like a lifeline from heaven, offering $1,000 for an evening's work.

  If it sounds too good to be true, it probably is. Her father had often said that, some of the only good advice she could remember from him. But she didn't have much choice right now.

  "It's difficult to explain," Dr. Hughes said. Helen just looked at him, unmoving, and a second later he relented. "Okay, okay. I have invented a teleportation device. It can send things from one place to another, like the two terminals I have set up in the lab here."

  He indicated the chair set up in the center of the room, and at the far side of the chamber an empty space surrounded by equipment and cameras. Helen frowned.

  "You mean like in some sci-fi show?"

  "Yes," Dr. Hughes said, warming to his subject. "The only problem is that it works too well. It seems that there are other receivers elsewhere that I'm connecting to, and I need to find out what's at the far end. As you can imagine that will have fascinating consequences if it's true. And that's why I need to send an artist."

  Helen opened her mouth to speak, and he held up a hand. "I've already sent through cameras — they come back with recordings of static and nothing else. I need to send through someone observant, someone who can draw me a picture."

  That did rule out her most obvious objection. She tried again. "Isn't this something you ought to be sending professionals on?"

  Dr. Hughes looked, if anything, more nervous. "I'm afraid that my experiments don't entirely conform to a few petty government regulations. I'm sure that will be overlooked when I can present a real breakthrough, but I don't want to draw attention prematurely."

  "So you called me, instead?" Helen shook her head, trying to think why that would make sense. "Did you lose someone through there?"

  Dr. Hughes swallowed, and she knew that she was right before he spoke.

  "That's why I want to track the receiver that she went to," he said, sounding a little frightened now. "I promise it's safe, I wouldn't risk this otherwise. Especially not with you, I've known you since you were born! I've put animals through and brought them back with no difficulty or negative effects on them. But Emily, well, she must have left the receiver area before I brought her home. That's why I need someone I can trust to find out where she went."

  Okay, that changes things, and not in a good way. But I still do need the money pretty badly. It was a dilemma — but on the other hand, Dr. Hughes didn't look any less desperate than she did. And he had been close to her father, even if she hadn't seen him in years. Chewing on her lip, Helen nodded carefully. A working machine like this had to be worth millions. Billions, maybe. It was a hell of a risk to take, but a hell of a prize too.

  It wasn't just the money that tempted her. She would have the chance to do something impossible, to be part of something incredible. To go somewhere that she probably would never have another chance to go, no matter where it was. How can I pass up a chance like that?

  "If I agree to this," she said, and then held up a hand when he started nodding. "If, then I want a share of the company. I'm the one taking the risk."

  Dr. Hughes looked torn, unsure of himself. Helen looked at him, trying to seem calm. As though she handled these kinds of negotiations every day. The closest I've come is trying to ask for a raise. And I lost that job.

  But she didn't think that Dr. Hughes had any more experience than she did, so she tried to copy the stare of a successful lawyer on TV, and after a moment he nodded. "Fine, sure. I'll cut you in for a percentage — as long as you agree that you'll work with me on it once you're back. There will be interviews, examinations, that kind of thing. I'll draw up a contract, and don't worry you'll be paid for that work too."

  I guess I've got a job, Helen thought, feeling a curious mix of dread and joy at the thought. Dr. Hughes quickly started scribbling down something, and she watched as though she knew what he was doing. On the one hand, that contract could say anything. On the other, he was an old friend of the family. She did trust him not to deliberately screw her over.

  And, most importantly, there was no way she could afford a lawyer to check over the paperwork. She had no choice but to trust him. Taking the pen from him, she looked the contract over. It was, at least, simple — and it promised everything he'd said. She signed it, then pulled out her phone to take a picture just in case.

  "So how do we do this?" she asked, feeling a knot in her stomach. I'm actually going to go through with it. "I mean, I'm not really dressed for a search party here."

  "No, no, I don't expect you to find Emily," Dr. Hughes said. "If you're lucky and she's right there, then that's one thing, but don't worry about it if she isn't. The first thing to do is work out where on Earth she is. So you just sit there and I'll send you through. You get a look at where you are, take some sketches and so on, and come back quickly. Wherever you're
going, it must have its own machine so you'll be able to make the jump home as soon as you want to. If you're gone more than ten minutes, I'll try bringing you home from here, but that will only work if you're still in the receiver at that far end. So don't go far. And please don't stay too long, I don't want to worry that I've lost you too!"

  Helen smiled nervously and shook her head. Staying too long wouldn't be a problem. She'd be more likely to try to run home early if she could. Dr. Hughes moved from device to device, flicking switches and closing circuits, and the machine came to life. Around her, she felt an electric charge build and the room seemed to fill with a potential that she could feel hanging around her. An eerie whine came from the coiled wires above her head and everything slowed down to a crawl. Then Dr. Hughes threw the final switch, and everything changed.

  The world seemed to snap around Helen as though everything was crashing together. For a moment, it felt as though she was everywhere in the Universe, as though she could pick any point. It felt almost as though the world was poised, waiting for an answer from her, but she didn't understand the question.

  The moment stretched, seeming as though it could go on forever. A frozen moment of potential, where she could be everywhere but was nowhere. The deafening noise surrounded her, her body frozen mid-movement as the blinding light struck her eyes even through her closed eyelids. But something was missing.

  She focused on what she wanted. Wherever the machine had sent Emily, that's where she should be going now. It was bound to be somewhere exciting, somewhere interesting. An adventure.

  The feeling of potential collapsed around her and she jumped from the chair, falling onto a hard, stone floor. Her eyes stung from the brightness of the light, her ears rang, and her head was spinning.

  Blinking back tears, she tried to focus on the room she was in. It was large, dark, and cool. Far bigger than Dr. Hughes' laboratory had been, and far emptier too. It was circular, and she had arrived in the middle of the space. The dim light that illuminated the room seemed to come from nowhere, and after the blinding brightness of her arrival she could barely make anything out in its dim glow.

  The faint potential feeling filled the room, a tingling like she'd felt in the laboratory. She relaxed a little at the feel of it, realizing that Dr. Hughes had been right. There was another machine here, and she would go home as easily as she'd arrived.

  Right, a few quick pictures and then I'm going straight back, Helen told herself. I'll try the camera first, then sketch something. Fumbling out her phone, she snapped away — there didn't seem to be anything stopping her doing that, but maybe the pictures wouldn't survive the return journey for some reason.

  Thinking about that, about what she was doing, was a way to distract herself from the fact that she didn't know where on Earth she was. Or if she was even still on Earth. This room could be anywhere at all for all Helen knew.

  Picking up her bag, she decided to look around a little. This bare room didn't give her much to record, and she didn't want to go back with nothing to report to Dr. Hughes. Her footsteps echoed in the huge space as she crossed it towards the only door she could see, one which led to a stairway that would take her upward. Am I underground? She didn't know why that thought should surprise her. The light from above gave her hope that this was a way out, though, and she walked towards it, clambering up stairs that seemed to be made for someone with longer legs than she had.

  Great, just what I need. Another place that's biased against short people, she groused to herself. At least I'm not going to need to stay here long.

  She had barely started up the stairs when she heard a thunderous crash from behind her, powerful enough that she staggered and nearly fell. And then, voices. Harsh, rough sounding voices speaking a language that sounded like nothing on Earth to Helen. She turned stood frozen, torn between going back to see what was happening and heading up to get away from whoever it was. Those voices didn't sound friendly.

  But they've come through the only way back, Helen realized. That thought froze her in place, and then it was too late. Through the door at the bottom of the stairs stepped a man.

  He was like no man she'd ever seen. Over six feet tall, he was broad-shouldered and muscular. But more importantly, he was blue. His deep blue skin was marked with silver lines in a complex pattern, and his eyes glinted redly in the dim light. Seeing her he bared his teeth, and they were sharp and pointed, more like an animal's than a human's.

  Helen took a step backward, her mouth moving silently as she tried to work out what to say. She trembled, which only seemed to make the alien smile wider.

  He said something unintelligible over his shoulder, and another alien followed through the doorway, a long spear in his hands. Both laughed, and it wasn't a friendly sound. Then the first of them stepped toward her.

  That was what snapped Helen out of her paralysis. Something about the alien spoke to the depths of her mind, screamed predator at her. Turning, she fled up the stairs as fast as she could run. She didn't make it ten steps before he was on her, strong rough hands pulling her to the floor.

  "Hey! Stop," she cried out, struggling helplessly in his grip. "Let me go!"

  If he understood her any better than she did him, he gave no sign. Ignoring her protests, the alien lifted her and put her over his shoulder. He ignored her struggles as easily as he ignored her words, carrying her up the steps without apparent effort.

  Behind him, she could see more aliens following them. These ones looked different, though. The same deep blue skin, but they lacked the confidence of the one who had grabbed her. And they seemed to have their hands bound together as they marched, heads bowed. Each was also laden down with a leather pack. What the hell is going on here?

  At the top of the steps, her captor stepped through a broken wall and out onto a plain of reddish dust. The heat was intense and the light bright enough to make Helen blink as he marched her out onto the plain and put her down. Glancing upward, her heart sank as she realized that no, she was definitely not anywhere on Earth. If the strange blue-skinned barbarians hadn't been enough of a clue, there were two suns in the sky.

  "Where am I?" she asked, feeling foolish for even trying. There was no sign the alien standing over her understood, but then there wasn't any reason to think he'd speak English. Ignoring her, he reached for the belt which was practically all he was wearing, unwinding a length of leather cord from it.

  "Urken sko," he growled, or something like that. When Helen didn't respond, he grunted in annoyance and grabbed her hands, moving too fast for her to avoid. In moments, he'd bound her wrists together and hauled her to her feet.

  By then the other aliens had made it out of the ruined building. A dozen of them stood in a clump, looking dejectedly at the ground. Around them stood a larger group of spear-wielding barbarians, grinning and laughing. Helen had a sinking feeling that she'd fallen into the hands of some nasty people.

  All I need is to get back into the building, she thought. If she could make it to the bottom of the steps, she could jump back home. But the speed with which she'd been captured when she tried to run made it unlikely that she could outdistance her captors now, with her hands tied.

  The alien who'd grabbed her snapped a command at her and, when she didn't respond, shoved her at the group of prisoners. They looked at her with dull, hopeless eyes, and she realized that they must all have similar thoughts. If only they could get free, they could all go home... but their captors seemed to know their business, and there wasn't much hope of that.

  "This is a mistake, I don't belong here, please just let me go home," she said, trying to appeal to the aliens' good nature. But even if they had one of those, they didn't understand her. With a few rough shoves from the butts of their spears, they prodded the prisoners into motion, leading her off towards the hills on the horizon.

  2

  Davor

  Bracing his shoulder under the fallen tree trunk, Davor took a deep breath and heaved. His full strength pushed agains
t the rough bark and slowly the tree moved upward. Samsar cried out as the weight lifted off him, and Davor swallowed a curse at the sight of his friend's crushed leg.

  "You'll be alright," he said, knowing that was shading the truth at best. "You just have to pull yourself aside."

  He tried not to put too much urgency into his words, but the strain of holding up the massive trunk showed. Samsar nodded and dragged himself out from under it, biting down on another scream as he pulled his leg away from the rocks. Davor lowered the tree as gently as he could, knowing that if he dropped it, it might bounce and hit his friend all over again.

  Watching them both with amused grins, two of the guards overseeing the work party shook their heads. "I told you he could lift it," one said to the other. "Pay up."

  Davor spared them a contemptuous glance. He had been amongst the Fire Wolves long enough to know that they wouldn't help one of their prisoners, but betting on whether he'd be able to? That was a new low.

  I wish they didn't keep finding new ways to disappoint me, he thought as he crouched beside his injured friend.

  "Can you move your leg, Samsar?" he asked, examining it as best he could. He was familiar with injuries, of course — as a war captain of his clan, he'd seen enough of them. This one looked worse than most.

  "A bit," Samsar said through gritted teeth. "Hurts."

  Davor nodded. "I'll get you back to camp, you need to keep it still. You'll be fine."

  Hope flared in his friend's eyes, and Davor forced himself to look confident. What he said wasn't a lie: with a healer's attention and some time, that wound would recover. But whether their captors would let them have access to a healer was a different matter.

  Lifting Samsar, he turned towards the hillside camp the Fire Wolves had established. The other workers in the ironwood grove looked at them, and the guards stopped smiling.