Transients

by Brayan Branko Bubalo

  “Olga! Is that you? Oh, heavens, it is you! What a nice surprise!” Professor dismounted the horse and rushed forward to meet her. One of the guard men gestured as if he wanted to stop Professor’s approach, but the woman waved her hand and stepped forward with open arms.

  “Sandy! Oh, what an unexpected pleasure it is to see you again!” she said in a deep, melodic voice.

  “The pleasure is all mine, Olga!” Professor and the woman embraced and kissed. “And where is my friend Victor? Is he sober?”

  “I’m afraid he couldn’t come to greet you. He’s sick.”

  “Is he all right?”

  Her face darkened. “No, he is not. It’s rather very serious.”

  “Then, take me to him, would you?”

  “Yes, yes! Patrick, let these people pass. They are nothing but friends.”

  “Olga, there might be a problem.” Professor stepped few passes back.

  “What do you mean? They are with you, the man and the boy, aren’t they?”

  “Yes, yes, of course, but…”

  “But, what?”

  “We are just a small fraction of a much bigger crowd.”

  “How big?”

  “Well… about two hundred and fifty strong,” said Professor somewhat hesitantly. “Your guards made us turn around and leave… They are not far.”

  “Two hund… well, I should’ve known. You and that man with the boy come with me and someone will go and bring your people over. We should be able to accommodate them all. Just tell me I will like them.”

  “Oh, Olga; you’ll love them.” Professor introduced Presley and Olga to one another. He managed to make a brief account about how he met each of them, to make them acquainted.

  “Come, come. We’ll have enough time to tell it all, once you get dry and warm,” Olga said. “Patrick, please see to it that our guests get a warm welcome. Bring them all to our gymnasium and then come to my place for further instructions.”

  “Yes ma’am.”

  Presley turned on his horse’s back and whistled through his teeth. Mike appeared behind the curve and galloped towards them.

  “Mike, go back and move our people forward. It’s all been sorted out.”

  “Yes, sir.” Mike turned around without stopping and galloped down the road.

  The murder of crows and ravens flew away, dispersing in all directions, and Leo’s bird made one last farewell call.

  “Where did these birds come from?” Professor asked no one in particular, watching them fly away, intrigued by their great number. “What happened here?” he then turned to Presley, who walked next to him holding the rein, while Leo sat in the saddle with Gregory on his shoulder.

  “I’ll tell you later. You won’t believe it, anyway,” Presley said.

  “What?”

  “Later, Professor, later…”

  Even though visibility was obscured by the late hour of the day, they could see right away why their new friends guarded the area so earnestly. After a short walk through the trees, there was an opening and they could see many one or two storied, well-preserved houses, secluded by the forest. It was obvious that, once upon a time, some rich and powerful people must’ve owned the place. It was a cottage town of sort or some kind of a spa retreat. Except, these cottages were more like mansions, with a large five star hotel in the center, surrounded by all sort of amenities: sport terrains, swimming pools, a gymnasium and gulf course. They noticed the present inhabitants made some alterations to the facilities. In the middle of a big empty space, where all the outdoor sport terrains used to be, they saw strange structures that looked like domes built with translucent plastic canvases.

  “What is that?” Professor asked, pointing to the nearest one.

  “That is our greenhouse; one of several,” Olga replied.

  “A greenhouse! With plants?” exclaimed Professor, with a boyish anticipation in his voice.

  “Yes! You know: lettuce, peppers, tomatoes, onions, potatoes, and the usual. And of course, some fruits, too.”

  The dome glowed from the inside.

  “Is that artificial light?”

  “Yes.”

  “You have power? You have electricity here?”

  “Yes.”

  “But how?”

  “It’s a combination of sources—a hydroelectric plant, wind–mills, and batteries—but the heat comes from hot springs, deep underground. It’s called geothermal energy, if I remember correctly.”

  “Ingenious! Was it Victor’s doing?”

  “Yes—sort of. This used to be a high–end, state of the art resort and spa, owned by several wealthy people who were members of some sort of secret society of merchants, businessmen and politicians. It was very exclusive. Thanks to his reputation for being an ingenious electro–engineer, Victor was approached by one of them. He asked Victor if it would be possible to convert the heat from the hot water springs into electricity. Victor was intrigued. He was invited for a visit and after they showed him around, he told them it could be done; regardless if the water was hot or cold. He suggested that good use of the hot springs would be to heat houses, and in the end, they invested in heating the roads too, so that they had no ice even in the harshest winter. After they spent a couple of billion, they managed to get this place entirely off the power grid.

  A huge underground tank was built, high up in the hill. Overnight, the reservoirs are filled with water from the wells bellow. Then the water comes down through pipes and turns the turbines that run the generators. Victor built this a long time ago—before all the wars and doom that happened in the last few years. When we defected from the Government, we gathered a group of good people and after many ordeals we made our way here. The proprietors decided to go someplace else, far away from here, Africa, I imagine; that is if they survived. Since this place was so exclusive, built on private land, and kept undisclosed, very few people knew about it. Victor was counting on it. But, the resort was infested with Pongos. They ravaged the place, for they did not know anything about its self–sufficiency. They were living here like cavemen, burning live fires for warmth, and hunting for food. Our men fought them for almost a week. We have a few good military men among us. You’ve met Patrick, at the barricade. They swept away those ghastly creatures. We then revived the place. So, this unusually long winter, we experienced as one long pleasant vacation. Occasionally we had to scare away or fight–off some hostile gangs or vagrants, and less often, take in those who showed humanity. And today is your lucky break, my dear Sandy. I am so happy to see you.”

  “How many people do you have?”

  “There are about six hundreds of us.”

  “Did any of you suffer from dementia or the white plague?”

  “No. All our people are younger than forty. As the Government’s employees we were never exposed to any toxins. And since we came here we were totally isolated from the rest of the world, hence from the supply chain. When we overtook this resort from Pongos we found a large stock of non–perishable foods and clean water that sustained us until we managed to start producing our own food and we have our own wells. Anyway, I presume that all that is behind us now, for I believe most of humanity is extinct. We are nothing but a miniscule relic of civilization, wouldn’t you agree?”

  “Yes. The further south we went, the less people we encountered.”

  “It is sad, isn’t it? Those who trusted us and were careful with what they ate and drank are with us now. The others are long gone.”

  “And what is wrong with my friend, Victor?”

  “His heart became very weak, I think.”

  “Is it that bad?”

  “I’m afraid it is.”

  “Can I see him?”

  “Yes, he will be delighted to see you.”

  The four of them headed towards a classic, two-story building in the middle of the complex. Olga showed them in and led them to a spacious living room on the main floor. After she greeted them with some food and refreshments they left Leo and clim
bed the stairs to the master bedroom. Victor was lying there with his back supported by a few pillows.

  “Is that really you, you old devil!” he called with a deep, but vary voice.

  “I knew I would see you again, you bloody Russian bear! I knew they couldn’t finish you, you son of a donkey!” They hugged and laughed and exchanged a few more assaults to their physique and intellect, and then settled into a rather sombre and awkward quietness. Professor stole a quick glance towards Presley. Victor Nemyrof was a gravely ill man.

  “Olga, would you please bring us some more of that magnificent tea we had downstairs?” Professor asked, twiddling with something in his jacket pocket.

  “Certainly!”

  Presley knew what was coming, and smiled, hiding his lips behind his hand.

  When Olga returned with a teapot and cups, Professor Tagore took the tray from her and lowered it on the nightstand beside the bed, chattering the whole time, praising the village and all they have done, while covertly dropped something in the empty cup, and pouring over it the hot beverage.

  “Any sugar for you?” he asked.

  “No, I am afraid sugar is not good for me,” Victor sighed like a spoiled child. Professor stirred the contents in the cup and handed it to his friend.

  “Oh. This is an excellent drink your wife made. I know that you would prefer whiskey, but alas, you are not permitted,” he chuckled.

  Victor sipped from the cup, and continued sipping, while Professor talked tirelessly, describing their adventures, their people, and especially their children, trying to divert his friend’s attention until his cup was empty.

  “How many children are among you?” asked Olga.

  “Over one hundred and eighty, from yearlings, to late teens,” he stated proudly.

  “But, that is wonderful! We have only a few dozen kids here,” exclaimed Olga.

  “Yes, yes… we were collecting them all the way through. And they are all beautiful! You’ll see… you’ll see…” chuckled Professor.

  Then he jumped from his chair, like he remembered something, and stated: “Well, Victor, you must be tired of loafing all day long and now you should take a well–deserved nap. We’ll leave you to it. We have to go and see how our flock will survive this unexpected paradise. They did not see it coming. Even I did not see it coming, indeed! Let’s go, chief.”

  “But, I am not tired,” protested Victor. “Come back, you dirty son of a Brahman! I want to talk!”

  “Tomorrow, my friend; tomorrow we shall talk.”

  “I may not have tomorrow!”

  “Oh, shut–up! You’ll survive even me,” Professor waved his hand, reassuringly.

  In the meantime, their people were welcomed and everyone from the village was on the move to accommodate the newcomers. Most of them were lodged in the essentially vacant hotel, and a handful were quartered in the surrounding vacant houses.

  Presley and Hope, along with Professor Tagore, were invited to stay in Victor’s house. Leo and Mary, Leo’s little sister, were given a small room next to Presley and Hope’s bedroom.

  “Are these yours?” asked Olga.

  “Well, I suppose they are,” Hope responded. “I just learned from Presley that we were adopted by them.”

  After a warm shower and hearty dinner, spent in long and pleasant conversation with Olga and a few other members of her commune, Presley and Hope departed to their room. They took off the clothes given to them earlier that evening, until their wardrobe was washed. Presley lay in bed watching Hope undress. They laughed happily for a long while, for they could not believe something like this was possible. It was the first time in a couple years that any of them had clean clothes worn over clean bodies, and were going to sleep in a comfortable bed, with clean sheets. Hope was sitting on a chair beside the night table, combing her hair, and Presley was watching her. He could see for the first time, her body through the light nightdress. She had a nice lean figure and her skin was silky and smooth. He felt overwhelmed all of a sudden; he never imagined he would experience closeness of a woman. She stood up and turned towards him, smiling. “So beautiful,” he thought… “So, so beautiful.” She shut the light off and climbed under the sheets, pressing her body next to his. She smelled of soap and night cream. It was pleasantly warm inside their room. It was quiet. A few moments later they made love like it was their first time, or perhaps, their last…

  Chapter XII

  The next morning, during breakfast, Professor asked Olga about Viktor and she told them, with a thrill in her voice, that Victor was doing surprisingly better, and even wanted to join them at the table, and that she had to force him to stay in bed. As Professor agreed with her, he covertly winked at Presley, and immediately after the meal went upstairs to see his friend’s improved condition. Presley and Hope wanted to get some fresh air and see how their people were doing. Olga told them that most of their friends would be in the large dining hall at the hotel having breakfast.

  “We thought it might be easier if they all dine at the same place, for the time being, until the two of our groups get to know each other and arrange more permanent accommodations for all of you,” she explained, a bit awkward, even apologetic. Presley did not understand her embarrassment. He actually preferred such an arrangement and suspected that most of his people did, too.

  Presley and Hope walked down the road from Victor’s mansion towards the hotel. The pavement, for a change, was dry and there was no trace of snow or ice on it. It was unusual to walk on dry asphalt. Everywhere else the ground was covered in dirty snow and ice patches, formed as a result of the sudden temperature drop following the recent, heavy rainfall. They could not see very far out in front of them as crowns of large and fairly old oak and pine–trees obstructed their view even though most of them were dry and leafless. It was quiet and they met almost no one during their walk. And those they met, greeted them formally and somewhat coldly, or did not pay any particular attention to them. At first they did not think much of it, but after a while they started to feel rather uncomfortable, whenever they passed by yet another native to this strange place. They expected the inhabitants would show at least some curiosity, yet most of the passers by ignored them, showing not even the slightest of interest. Initially, they thought their presence was perhaps too unexpected and that the natives had no time to react, until they realized the inhabitants of this place acted the same way even when they greeted each other.

  When they arrived to the hotel they found most of their people in the large hotel lounge and adjacent dining room. The atmosphere among their peers was quite different—loud, cheerful, always courteous and friendly.

  “How are you, Mike?” asked Presley, taking a seat across his lieutenant in an old-fashioned armchair, while Hope left to see some of her female friends. Their people were meandering in and out between the dining room and lounge, while the kids ran around and played games in small and large groups.

  “A very strange place, I tell you! And very strange people,” said Mike with frustration in his voice.

  “What do you mean?”

  “They showed us around: where the kitchen is, where the dishes and utensils are, the laundry room and food supplies, and said we’re welcome to take care of ourselves and let them know if we need anything else. It’s generous of them and nice that the kitchen is packed with all kinds of nice stuff, and that we have more than a few people who can cook, so we don’t need any assistance, but I don’t like to snoop around someone else’s possessions all on my own. What a strange way to show hospitality. It makes me feel like I am an intruder, that we are not wanted here.”

  “Yeah, Hope and I noticed it, too. We were hardly greeted by anyone we met on our way here. I got the impression that everyone here has a specific job to do and no time to lose on socializing, like they’re all in some kind of a hurry. But, let us not jump to conclusions. They have their daily routines and obligations, I guess; they are dealing with jobs that allow no delay. And then again, we couldn’t expect
them to serve us. Giving us shelter and food is more than enough, don’t you think.”

  “Yeah, but…”

  “Is everything else all right?”

  “Yes, Chief. It was really nice to have a long, hot shower and lie in an actual bed, after all this time. I almost forgot what it felt like to have a real bath. I couldn’t believe how dirty I was. Our people also seem to be quite happy with this sudden strike of good luck. But I think we shouldn’t get used to it, if you ask me.”

  “Why not,” asked Presley?

  “The longer we stay, the more difficult it will be to leave. And I don’t like it here, at least not enough to wish to stay…”

  My thoughts exactly, Presley mused.

  Over the next couple of days, Presley became increasingly convinced that it would be for the best if they leave, and very soon. But he had a hard time bringing it up to Professor, who, as it seemed, was enjoying both Nemyrof’s company and hospitality, and, since he spent most of the time with Victor and Olga, Presley suspected, Professor was not aware of the oddities others experienced.

  On the morning of the third day since their arrival, when Presley and Hope got up and went downstairs, everyone was already sitting around an enormous oval table in a big, luxurious dining room, having breakfast and tea. Victor Nemyrof was at the table, loud and cheerful, and obviously leading the conversation.

  “What’s going on?” Hope asked in a hushed voice, before they entered the large room.

  “What do you mean?” Presley replied.

  “Is that Nemyrof?”

  “Yes it is.”

  “I was under the impression that he is gravely sick.”

  “Well, he probably decided he could stay with us a little while longer.”

  Presley did not want to tell Hope about Professor’s secret box, filled with little capsules, each packed with miracle Nano–particles that, upon reaching the blood stream, begin to perpetually repair every cell in the body. But he had no time to offer any explanation.

  “Oh, there they are!” Professor exclaimed. “Good morning. Slept well?”