by M. L. Ryan
Gera’s high spirits persisted for days. Fortunately, his bliss started to rub off, making even the most melancholy—who, I was fairly certain, had to be me—somewhat more lighthearted. It was impossible to wallow in the continuing good weather when our host was given to intermittent bouts of singing as well as an overall lilting bounce in his step.
Maybe the easing of my previously foul disposition had some magical effect on the atmosphere, because, finally, clouds began to billow out of the south. No rain, and not even overcast skies, but the increase in moisture gave me hope the weather might turn in our favor sometime this century.
As I lay face up on the ground, mesmerized by a small cumulus cloud that looked amazingly like a rat blowing a kiss, I heard a man and a woman talking a few yards away. I thought it was Bex and Z, who I’d seen in that general vicinity before slacking off to find animals in the sky. But as I listened more carefully, I realized the male voice was speaking Dekankaran, and he didn’t sound like either Ulut or Gera.
Lifting onto my elbows, I saw a completely flustered Bex, trying to communicate with a grey-haired fellow shaped like a bowling ball. He began to speak louder, as if that would make Bex understand, and she kept shaking her head and repeating, miej n’polixim Dekankarash—I don’t speak Dekankaran—which obviously meant nothing to him because he didn’t know a word of Courso, and Dekankara was the Courso word for the third dimension. Hell, I thought abstractly, he doesn’t even know there are other dimensions. Not wanting to inject yet another foreign tongue into the mix, I said nothing, but hustled off to find someone who spoke his language.
I bumped into Ulut first, leading him to the still-awkward standoff of miscommunication between Bex and Mr. Brunswick. Ulut gently positioned himself between the two, smiling benignly as our uninvited guest explained what he wanted. Their conversation went on for a few minutes until Gera emerged from the outhouse.
“Who is that?” I wondered when Ulut came to stand next to me while Gera continued the discussion.
“He’s a neighbor, lives a ways down the road.”
“We haven’t seen another soul the entire time we’ve been here, and now someone comes to pay a call?”
Ulut shrugged. “I know, I think he must be curious how Gera got so productive. He asked me a lot of questions about who I was and why we were here.”
“What did you tell him?”
“I said I was a distant relative of Gera’s, come to help with the harvest, and you and Bex are my wives.”
“Wives?” I said skeptically.
“Polygamy is very common here,” he replied.
“Uh-huh. And how did you explain our inferior language skills?”
“That was easy,” he explained, “you don’t have much education and aren’t from the area so neither of you speak the local dialects.”
“And he bought that?”
Ulut shrugged again. “Why wouldn’t he? Most men here consider women to be inferior.”
Great. I didn’t have any shoes on either. If I’d been pregnant, I’d conform to all the backward misogynist stereotypes.
My annoyance must have shown, because Ulut quickly said, “I don’t feel that way.”
I knew that, and the fabrication made perfect sense, but the fact that women were so devalued still pissed me off.
“So, what are they saying now?” I inquired, intentionally changing the subject.
“The neighbor wants to know why Gera wouldn’t admit he had help, and Gera is assuring him he meant no harm, just wanted everyone to think he did it himself.”
“Sebastian always says when lying use as much truth as possible.”
“Yes, that is wise.” Ulut nodded distractedly. “Speaking of our companions, I should try to let them know we have a visitor and they should stay out of sight. There’s no reason to complicate things by having to account for a bunch of other people who can’t speak the language.”
“We could be one big, happy band of Mormon hippies,” I offered.
He turned to go warn the others, but he stopped abruptly. “I am not familiar with either of those terms.”
“Don’t worry about it,” I said, waving my hand for him to get going. Yeah, LDS flower children traveling with a contumacious cop and a reluctant spy. Who wouldn’t believe that? “You better alert the others.”
It turned out we didn’t have to worry, because the neighbor left soon after Ulut. When they found out what happened, Alex and Sebastian weren’t pleased about the caller, but conceded it was lucky only some of us were around; three strangers were believable, eleven, not so much.
Over the next few days, no other curious villagers came to scope us out, and we figured we were in the clear. The humidity and cloud cover steadily increased, and it finally seemed the storms we hoped would get us home were rapidly approaching. Sebastian calculated there was just enough time to return to Dekan-Babo, and he insisted we get moving as soon as possible.
The Jyryxahal had gone to the stream to fish, so Sebastian and Ulut went to round them up. By default, Alex and I had to inform Agnes of our imminent departure. She was guarding Prytx, an assignment she often chose, and Ulut had seen them earlier in one of the gardens laying mulch. They weren’t there, nor were they near the compost heap. When we did locate them— in the barn—they were laying something, but it sure as hell wasn’t soil amendments.
There were some images so profoundly disturbing that once seen, they couldn’t be erased: the pictures of planes slamming into the twin towers; Ethiopian children emaciated from famine; the Vietnamese girl running naked through the street after being burned by napalm. I knew the visual of Agnes, skirt hoisted around her waist, bent ass-up over a wood railing with a pantless Prytx banging away at her would remain burned into my brain. It wasn’t even the fact they were going at it that bothered me as much as the fact that they were going at it right next to my favorite goat.
Engaged as they were, neither took notice of our presence. Taking advantage of their preoccupation with one another, Alex and I backed out as quickly as we could, which was fitting, considering what we just witnessed.
“Oh my god!” I spat once we were safely outside.
Alex slanted his head toward the barn. “Well, I wasn’t expecting that either, but they are consenting adults.”
Interrupted by high-pitched moans of ecstasy and a plaintive bleating—presumably from Agnes and the goat, respectively—Alex couldn’t help but laugh.
“Isn’t that considered animal abuse?” I complained. “And isn’t there some rule against fraternizing with the enemy?”
“If she was a Xyzok, she would be severely disciplined for dereliction of duty. As it is, there’s not much we can do.”
“You could remind her that’s it’s difficult to watch someone when they are behind you.”
“Well, carisa, I think she knew right where he was at all times.”
I gave Alex a dirty look before calling out, “Hey, lovebirds. Wrap it up in there. There’s a storm coming, and we are leaving.”
From inside the barn, we heard a deep-voiced, hardy groan.
“I guess there’s more coming than just a storm,” Alex noted.
Once everyone was assembled—and fully clothed—there wasn’t much preparation involved for departure, as most of our gear had remained buried deep in our packs. I started to shove the egg in its basket back in mine, thinking it would be safer there than in my pocket, but decided to keep it in my bra instead. Close if I got nervous, but unlikely to slip out during the climb, I reasoned. All that remained was bidding our gracious host goodbye.
After almost two months, Gera was, understandably, reluctant to see us go, but thanked us for our time on the farm and extended an invitation to return. We lied and said we’d visit, a commitment we couldn’t keep and a promise that made us feel all the worse for leading on the kindly man in the first place. Even though I knew why we had to continue our ruse to the end, I hated being untruthful.
V, who had spent the most time with Ge
ra during our stay, presented him with her feathered medallion to remember her by. He beamed when she draped it over his head, and she had Alex assure me that as the lightning-induced imprint of it remained burned into her shirt, the present did not reflect any flagging devotion on her part.
“Like that would be a bad thing,” I muttered under my breath. The Jyryxahal showed few signs of renouncing their improbable commitment to me, but at least we’d managed to convince them to stop chanting, “Fucked up,” as if it was some divine pronouncement.
“I’m going to miss Gera,” I lamented as we began our trek.
Sebastian agreed. “Yes, it is not often one finds a host more hospitable or less inquisitive. A rare combination, that.”
“I’m sure he wondered why we stayed so long,” Ulut asserted. “He sometimes fished for information—subtly, of course—but when I was reluctant to give any, he didn’t press. With a new warlord in the area, Gera probably figured the less he knew, the better. If we were wanted, he would simply claim ignorance.”
“And they’d take him at his word?” I asked.
“Who knows?” Ulut responded with a shrug. “But, the warlords always have some magic, and if the means to compel was in their repertoire, Gera would have nothing to tell.”
That made sense. “What you don’t know can’t hurt you, I suppose.”
“Exactly,” Ulut answered. He surveyed the grey clouds, roiling above. “With any luck, we should be near the summit before the worst of the storm hits.”
I was about to make some snarky response about the unpleasantries of scaling a peak in the rain when I ran smack into Bex, who had been walking in front of me. She stood completely still, and as I pushed off from her back, I wondered what made her stop so abruptly. My bewilderment intensified when I realized everyone else had similarly stopped moving.
Peeking around Bex, the reason for the hold-up became obvious: a squadron of rather burly fellows, all brandishing an impressive array of swords, blocked the path. A small glance behind me revealed another band of well-armed and equally menacing men.
“Doprix nyx,” Sebastian and Alex spat in unison.
“Exactly,” Ulut concurred, raising his arms in surrender.
21
With tentative resolve, Ulut stepped forward. Hands still held high, he spoke calmly to the soldier in the middle. I assumed he was their leader, not only because he was front and center, but also because he held the biggest sword. Maybe he was overcompensating for something; the dull metal saber was arguably twice the size of the others.
Ulut gestured at us carefully, presumably so his movements would not be misinterpreted as hostile, in response to The Big Dirk’s shouted commands. Taking Ulut’s lead, we all had our hands raised at this point, and I desperately wished I were closer to Alex and Sebastian instead of at the rear with the Jyryxahal. In a pinch, they’d probably give their lives for me, not that I wanted them to, but under these circumstances, I just as soon be next to the guys who had the skills to protect me.
After a few anxious minutes, the warriors lowered their weapons, albeit only slightly. Ulut must have convinced them we were just a bunch of happy-go-lucky travelers or some related fabrication to take down the macho testosterone levels a notch. Since it appeared no one planned to slice or dice us immediately, I plastered a friendly a smile on my face and eased next to Alex.
TBD sheathed his mega-blade and settled his arms across his chest. His clothes were grimy, almost as filthy as his hands, and the entire gang looked as though they could use a good bath and a good meal.
“Are they bandits?” I whispered as Alex laced his fingers with mine.
He answered with an almost imperceptible nod, and I figured the absence of a verbal response was his way of telling me to keep silent.
The leader barked out some instructions, inclining his scruffy head toward Ulut.
Ulut paused. “He wants us to give up our possessions.”
Alex’s hand tensed. There were items in our possession that would be tough to explain, but nothing we couldn’t live without. If they were thieves, hopefully they’d take what they wanted and leave us be. Outnumbered and unwilling to risk the vagaries of inter-dimensional magic to overpower them, we didn’t have much choice in the matter.
We removed our packs and tossed them into the space between TBD and us. With a small nod of encouragement to his men, they gleefully opened the bags and spilled out the contents. Rooting through our belongings, they paid particular attention to the food and water. My night-vision goggles caused considerable confusion, as did the modern ropes and fasteners, all passed around from man to man for inspection. The only item not uncovered was Agnes’ gun; she must have had it on her instead of in her rucksack.
The Big Dirk inspected the haul. After careful consideration, he directed his men to gather everything and return the plunder into the packs. Then, they frisked us rather roughly, and with particular attention to the women’s breasts. Unless the asswad feeling me up was checking for lumps, he wasn’t going to find any contraband hidden inside my boobs. The only positive from the humiliating episode? So focused on copping a cheap feel, he completely missed the tiny basket containing the egg stuffed in my cleavage.
I blew out a breath, convinced now that they had taken their ill-gotten gains, they’d be off to raid some other hapless travelers down the road. The trek up Babo would be tougher without our stuff, but so be it. Unfortunately, my assessment of the situation was woefully misguided. Without so much as a nod of TBD’s head, his men grabbed each of us, daggers thrust perilously close to our throats. The well-orchestrated maneuver indicated this was far from their first ambush.
Ulut expressed what I assumed was outrage and TBD smashed his fist into his stomach, forcing Ulut to double over, gasping for breath. Two men flung him unceremoniously into the middle of a circle of thugs not occupied with our restraint, and my holders did the same with me. I heard a scuffle and some shouts behind me, but I couldn’t see what was going on.
Everyone was now in the circle, except Agnes and Prytx. The ruckus must have been them getting away, and their disappearance was of great concern to our captors. Recalling my dream, I worried their escape signaled some despicable conspiracy, rather than just their good fortune to cut and run. To make matters worse, it began to drizzle, and I added wet to the list of unpleasant sensations I was experiencing.
TBD was now red in the face and bellowed at his men. Some of the extra punks ran off, I assumed to locate the escapees. Still fuming, TBD rounded on Ulut and struck him again in retaliation.
Fucking asshole. It’s not like it was his fault, I seethed inwardly.
Sebastian gut-punched me once in training so I could experience how it felt. He went easy on me, and I knew it was coming, but it still felt like someone siphoned out all the air in my lungs and turned my stomach inside out. To his credit, Ulut shook off the second assault within seconds, straightening to his full height to eyeball the leader. Rather than becoming defensive, TBD seemed impressed by Ulut’s moxie, slapping his grubby hand on Ulut’s shoulder.
Men.
TBD delivered a rather long-winded monologue, then stepped back so Ulut could translate.
“The leader believes we are valuable beyond just our possessions, and he expects to receive a handsome reward from the local warlord when he presents us to him. He also made it quite clear while he hopes to hand all of us over, he will gladly kill anyone who tries to get away.”
Alex’s expression remained unreadable. “How far must we travel?”
“The trip will take around two weeks. We will walk to a nearby encampment where they have wagons. From there, we will ride to the warlord’s headquarters.”
Two weeks? I had no what that meant in terms of distance, but it couldn’t be a good thing to be fourteen days away from Babo. Alex outwardly projected an aura of resigned acceptance to our predicament, but I knew better—the vein in his temple throbbed like a son of a bitch.
“Ulut, I want him to
understand our chain of command,” Alex explained. “Please inform him that any further discussion should be directed, through you of course, to either Sebastian or me.”
Ulut conveyed Alex’s request, and TBD stepped toward the two Xyzok. They eyed one another with an odd mixture of bravado and caution, until TBD nodded first to Alex, then to Sebastian. With the line of authority and responsibility thus acknowledged, he turned his back to us and strode into the brush.
Our wranglers nudged us to follow, which wasn’t easy. One or two people bushwhacking through thickets was tough enough; thirty-something taking the same route verged on chaos. Adding to the fiasco, the rain began in earnest, great sheets of it propelled in our faces by the swirling winds while spectacular bolts of lightning flashing across the sky.
Great. After two months of waiting, we were finally about to get pummeled by a storm, and we were being led farther and farther away from where we needed to be to get home. If we made it out of this mess, who knew when we’d have another chance to access the portal back to the human dimension?
After many hours of walking, we stopped for the night near a small stream. The soldiers knotted us tightly together, allowing just enough room for us to sit upright. Between the awkward positions, close quarters, and the continuing downpour, rest was problematical. Even crowded together, I was cold, hungry, and rattled.
Not able to sleep, and trying to ignore the water dripping from my drenched curls onto my face, I wondered what happened to our deputy and spy. If they were caught, would they be brought back here, or would they kill them as punishment? I chose to believe they were successfully eluding those who pursued them rather than lying hacked to pieces somewhere. Not that I particularly cared for either one of them, but I didn’t wish them dead, either.
“Are you awake, carisa?” Alex whispered. He was lashed to my right, and my head rested against his sopping shoulder.